The sun beat down on Logan as his captors dragged him through the dirt. Iron cuffs linked with a short chain held his hands in front of him as the guards gripped his shoulders tightly. The entire camp watched him as they took him through the muddy roads.

  Blood ran down his face. He couldn’t be sure of where it was from. It tasted bitter as it ran into his open mouth. Logan should have been thinking of a way to escape, but the taste was all he could think about.

  ‘Why don’t you fight back?’ Talan asked.

  Logan didn’t know the answer. He could have fought back; he could have even tried to summon the magic to tear through the guards. The magic hadn’t heeded his call. This was something he couldn’t fight against.

  Finally, they reached their destination, though Logan wasn’t sure where in the camp it was. The guards threw him in the dirt without regard. A strong hand then pulled him to rest on his knees in front of a noble’s red tent.

  Logan knew the man that walked out of the tent, his giant frame parting the flap. Lord Alban, protector of the north looked down on him with cold grey eyes. When Logan last saw the man, he had been clean-shaven, but a peppered beard now hid his strong jaw.

  “Logan,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “The last time I saw you was just after I buried my son. I thought my hunters might never find you.”

  “Not for lack of trying,” Logan mumbled, and earned a hard cuff from the guards.

  “Watch your tongue or I’ll have it cut out.” The lord reached down and turned Logan’s face up. “I want to be able to hear your screams before you meet your fate.”

  “You shouldn’t have known I was here,” Logan said, coughing.

  “Word travels fast from Atria.” The lord pulled out a rolled up scrap of paper. “This came in with my crows this morning. Your brother tried to hide the information, and he will pay for that, but my men were able to get the word out. There is only one place that you could be going to if you would risk coming near Atria. They knew you were coming here.”

  “So, are you going to kill me now?” Logan laughed.

  “We don’t slaughter people like criminals in the forest,” Lord Alban said, closing his eyes. “You will be executed in the morning, in front of the camp. Justice will be served.”

  “You’re too afraid to do it yourself.” Logan tried to rise, but was knocked back down.

  “Don’t mistake justice for cowardice. Take him away.” Lord Alban stamped his foot down. “He can spend the night with the monster we captured yesterday. It is fitting company for the both of them.”

  The guards dragged him away without ceremony. The irons chafed at his wrists as once again he passed the eyes of the camp. They watched him with a mixture of fear and curiosity. He did his best to keep his head held up high.

  The guards took him under the shade of a tent at last. They insisted on keeping his legs dragging across the dirt the entire way. Inside the tent were three iron cages. Only two remained empty.

  Logan only caught a glimpse of the sarpan’s scaly hide as the guards threw him into an iron cage and locked it with a large clank. He fell to the ground hard, landing against the bottom bars on his right shoulder.

  He took a moment to catch his breath. There was enough space to move around in the cage, but not enough to stand. With some effort, he pushed himself up and rested his back against the bars. It wasn’t comfortable, but it would do.

  “Keep a three guard watch at all times.” Outside the tent flap, a man barked orders. “If they escape, it’ll be your hides.”

  “Great,” Logan said, looking down to his iron shackles.

  He could try to use the magic, but he wasn’t sure how it would help. If he had used it to fight back, he could have evaded capture, but it was too late now. He pulled at the chain absently, stretching it until it was taut.

  “Talan, this doesn’t look good,” he said, looking over to the sarpan.

  The brown lizard was watching him with unblinking yellow eyes. Irons bound it as much as they bound him. Iron chains even bound its legs and tail together. It reclined back in its own cage, facing Logan.

  “Talan?” Logan asked.

  ‘Quiet.’ Her voice was faint, barely a whisper. ‘That lizard is listening.’

  “I don’t think he understands us,” Logan said. “I’ve never heard a sarpan speak the common tongue. I’m sure he can’t hear a voice in my head either.”

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  ‘Don’t be so certain.’

  “Dark ones.” A low hiss slipped from the sarpan’s snout. “Dark ones touched your soul, human.”

  Logan shuffled back away from the sarpan. He couldn’t believe it. He had only ever heard the faint clicks and screeches of sarpans during their attacks. Everyone knew that the sarpans could not speak.

  “What do you mean?” Logan scooted forward once he remembered that bars separated them. “What do you know of dark ones?”

  “Dark ones drove elders away.” The sarpan leaned closer to Logan. “Elders turned to dust and dark ones were cursed. Dark ones opened gate and cursed themselves. Dark ones turned from light to dark. Walls are all that remain.”

  “You’re not talking about the savod,” Logan whispered.

  “Savod.” The sarpan blinked once, its head turning left then right. “Walkers came to curse dark ones. Walls are all that remain.”

  Logan backed away, not taking his eyes off the sarpan. The words echoed in his mind. The walls were all that remained. The sarpan was talking about the sylvestri, of that he was sure. He didn’t know what the elders were though.

  “Talan,” he whispered. “What do you know about this?”

  ‘The nalde,’ Talan said. ‘They made an empire in the deserts. The sarpans are their creations.’

  “You can’t expect me to believe that.” Logan laughed. “Men can’t create life.”

  ‘The nalde aren’t men,’ Talan said. ‘Nor are they sylvestrian. They were one of the three great empires before the savod came to the world. While we sylvestrians had great control over planar magic, the nalde had power over the magic of life. They created many of the monsters that hide in the dark.’

  “Wait,” Logan said. “You said there were three. What was the third empire then?”

  ‘They didn’t have a name,’ Talan said. ‘They were beings of pure elemental magic, and acted much the way their element did. Every year, we fought to hold them back. They were all that stood between us and defeating the nalde.’

  “I wonder if the nalde would say the same thing,” Logan whispered as he looked back to sarpan.

  Outside the sun was setting, the heat of the tent was fading as it lost its glow. Darkness rose up around his cage, and soon the only thing Logan could see were the sarpans yellow eyes.

  He closed his eyes and rested back.

  He couldn’t escape on his own, not unless he could pick locks with the magic. That left only Joshua and Elaine as his hope. Maybe they would rescue him before the morning light, but then again, he might face the executioner’s axe before then.

  He passed the night away, but found he couldn’t think about much. Every time he tried to concentrate, he could see the shine of the axe. He wanted to laugh, he never would have imagined ending up here.

  “Talan, do you want to hear a story?” Logan asked.

  ‘What is it about?’ she asked.

  “There was a boy who lived in the slums of a town on the border of Tyra, with his younger brother,” Logan said. “Food was scarce for two boys living without parents during the winter months and both boys worked hard during the day to earn some coin.”

  ‘This boy is you, isn’t it?’ Talan asked.

  “It might be.” Logan smiled. “The older brother always went out into the forest when he could, sometimes he could catch a rabbit for the two to share. One day, when he came back from the forest and the lord’s son caught him. You see, the animals of the forest were the right of the lord alone.”

  Logan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could still remember the boy’s face, the sneer that permanently marred his face. He could still remember his blond hair, blue eyes and snarky voice.

  “The lord’s son had an idea,” Logan said. “He said that the life of one was worth the death of another, so long as he had something to hunt, he did not care.”

  Logan gripped his fist tight. His nails cut into his palm. The pain kept the tears from welling in his eyes.

  “They took the boy’s brother, and the lord’s son promised a great hunt as the boy was beat,” Logan said. “The lord’s son made one mistake. He let the boy live.”

  Logan remembered the pain most of all. His muscles ached with every stop, and his head was light. He was surprised that he even made it into the forest that day. He knew he should have been dead.

  “The boy followed after the lord’s son, and found him and his friends deep in the forest. They had just released the boy’s brother, and were tracking him as he ran through the woods. The boy did what he had to do then.

  “The boy shot the others with his bow. He saved his brother and returned home,” Logan whispered. “But that isn’t the end of the story. The law works differently for nobles and their children.”

  ‘This is why you have a bounty on your head then,’ Talan said.

  “His father wasn’t happy about it,” Logan said.

  ‘Do you regret it?’ Talan asked.

  “I saved my brother’s life,” Logan said.

  ‘But at the cost of another’s,’ Talan said.

  Logan sighed and looked down at his palm. He could just scarcely see it in the darkness. The blood of the Alban family was on his hands. He had never forgotten the day, never forgotten what it felt like.

  “I can still remember the fear in his eyes,” Logan said. “He died with the arrow in his heart. He cried out for his father and his mother.”

  “You didn’t answer the question.” Green eyes pierced through the darkness, right in front of his face.

  Logan pulled away from her. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to talk about it now. He had enough courage to tell the story, but he didn’t have enough for this. Yet, he couldn’t hide from an imp bound to his soul.

  “It was a mistake to kill the boy, even it was to save my brother,” Logan said. “I was angry, so angry that it didn’t matter. I didn’t kill the lord’s son because I wanted to save my brother; I did it because I was mad.”

  “And now you run from it,” Talan said.

  “I run from the bounty on my head.” Logan slammed his fist into the bars. “I don’t consider staying alive a bad thing.”

  “Is that how you choose to see it?” the green eyes asked before they faded back into the shadow.

  Logan sighed. He wished he could disappear conveniently after asking a question like that. It would make life a lot easier. He looked back to the sarpan, but it was doing nothing but watching him. If it had anything to say about Talan, it wasn’t revealing it.

  “I’m running from that regret,” Logan said, closing his eyes back to the dark. “I understand that’s what you’re trying to say, but I don’t accept it. I might regret taking that boy’s life, but that’s not why I run.”

  Talan said nothing to him, but he wasn’t surprised. She would wait until she had something else to support her words. Then she would talk again, and her wry voice would point out another of his faults.

  It was enough to make him regret the pact. That much he could easily admit.