Merry Christmas!

Dear fellow writers, readers, book lovers, and dreamers,

Merry Christmas!

Looking back over my blog, I am ashamed that I have not written for over a year.  That has got to change.  But, as I promised on my Facebook page, I am going to give you a Christmas present: the first three chapters of the next Defenders of Light book: Shadow's Light!  Well, a prologue and two chapters.  I was originally only going to give the prologue (which may or may not turn into Chapter One, giving me all sorts of numbering headaches, if the ebook formatting doesn't allow for prologues), but it was really short.  As it has been over a year since I've posted anything Defenders related, and as my faithful fans must be getting either anxious or bored, I decided it was only fair to post the prologue as well as the first two chapters.

I must warn you: I have not read over these with a fine-toothed comb (since I'm still working on the rough draft for the ending of the book), so there may be differences between this excerpt and the final draft.  There may be major differences.  An ax may be taken to the chapters; they may be chopped into tiny bits and rearranged into something that is unrecognizable to you or me.  Even so, I hope that this little tidbit will whet your appetite for better things yet to come.

But first, a synopsis (book blurb. Also, I am writing this at six in the morning, which is usually far too early for coherent thought.  If my synopsis makes no sense, please skip it and go on to the actual good stuff):

Defenders of Light: Shadow's Light

Things couldn't get worse.

They couldn't.

Robert was gone.

Urakken was imprisoned in a sphere.

The Shade was loose in Joshua.

And it was all Krissa's fault.

When the Defenders of Light travel to Elwenarien to seek help from the Elves, Krissa must face her inner demons and uncover her past if she is to save those she loves. In the process, as the shadows gather around her and war threatens Elwenarien, Krissa may find one more soul worth saving.

Prologue: The Unkept Promise

            The teenage boy crept through the forest until he reached the last stand of trees.  His clothes were tattered and dirty, and his skin was just as soiled.  Dirt caked his face and arms and bare feet.  The grime used to bother him, but it had its advantages—he was able to blend into the surrounding woods as he slipped through the trees as quietly as a ghost.

            On fingertips and toes, the teen inched forward until he could see beyond the last low-hanging branches.  As much as he tried to stay away from civilization, tried to stay away from those men and women who wanted to use him and manipulate him, he had to see her.  He had to see his sister.

            Beyond the trees was an open field that led to a low-lying manor house.  Children were playing in the field, some of them the same age as the boy.  About halfway between the manor and the woods a girl and a boy were absorbed in an intricate game of stealth.  They maneuvered through the crowd of children, trying to keep out of each other’s sight.  The teen smiled.  Kristine hadn’t changed a bit.

            This is why we came here?  A voice inside the teen’s head made him jump.  He started to scramble to his feet when a scaly head the size of a horse’s dipped down next to the boy.  It was a dragon.  Two horns stuck straight back from the sides of its head, and its vibrant green scales shone even from under a layer of dirt.  It stared at the children with bright slitted eyes.  We came to watch a herd of humans?  Can I eat them?

            The teen pushed the dragon’s head aside.  “Of course you can’t eat them, Lancet,” he whispered.  “I’ve told you before—no eating humans.”

            The dragon Lancet draped his head affectionately over the teen’s shoulder and stared at the children.  Then why are we here?

            “See that girl?” said the teen, pointing.

            The one with pigtails?

            “No, the one with hair like a matted bush that’s sneaking around the yard,” said the teen.

            Lancet regarded the girl.  He snorted, sending out two plumes of smoke.  I suppose she’s got good features for a human, but don’t you think she’s a little young for you?  She’s hardly bigger than a hatchling.

            The boy pushed Lancet’s head away again.  “Ugh, don’t think like that.  She’s my sister.  I had to leave her here to protect her four years ago—that’s before you were born.”

            I can count, thank you very much.  Lancet snorted and retrained his eyes on Kristine with renewed interest.  So why are we here?  Are we taking her with us?

            The teen shook his head, and a pit of sorrow welled inside his belly.  “No, we can’t.  It’s still not safe.  I just like to check on her every now and then.”

            They sat there for a while in the trees, just watching Kristine play.  As they watched, another boy stole the pigtailed-girl’s doll.  Kristine saw it happen and stormed up to the bully.  The bully held the doll away from her and laughed.  Undeterred, Kristine knocked the bully down, wrestled the doll away from him, and handed it back to the little girl.

            I like her, said Lancet.  Are you sure we can’t keep her?  I’ll take care of her and catch her food and train her and everything.

            The teen rolled his eyes.  He opened his mouth to speak when something rustled in the trees behind them.  Lancet spun around.  He crouched low to the ground and hissed, rustling his wings.  The teen scrambled onto Lancet’s back.

            A man stepped out from behind a tree.  His clothes were nondescript, with nothing that could identify who he was or what he did.  He looked up at them, showing no surprise at seeing a boy sitting atop a young dragon in the middle of the woods.  He said, “You must be Caleb’s son.”

            The teen’s heart jumped into his throat.  The man knew his father’s name.  He must be after the bloodstones—and like a fool he’d led the man straight to Kristine!

            We have to go, the teen thought to Lancet.  But don’t fly too fast.  We have to get him away from Kristine.

            Right, said Lancet.  He growled at the man, showing off all of his razor-sharp fangs, then dashed forward.

            The man yelled and jumped to the side just as Lancet reached him.  Lancet continued on, weaving effortlessly through the trees.  The teen crouched low, holding on tight as Lancet ran.  Once they reached a large enough clearing Lancet sprang into the air.  His wings snapped open, and with one powerful thrust Lancet cleared the tree tops.  He continued upwards, circling above the trees until they saw the man below gazing up at them.  Then, after a signal from the boy, Lancet banked right and headed east towards the distant mountains.

            The teen peered over his shoulder and gazed at the manor house one last time.  The emptiness filled him again, but he did his best to ignore it.  I’m not leaving forever, he reminded himself.

            I’m coming back, Kristine, he thought.  Once everything’s safe, I’ll come back.

            I promise.

Chapter One: Nightwatch

            Six years later.

            Snow drifted lazily down from a moonless sky as the travelers made their way down the cliff-side trail towards the canyon floor far below.  They were a haggard group—the past two weeks had not been kind to them—but that did not stop them from leaving in the middle of the night in hopes that they might find a brighter future, a way to right the terrible wrongs that had been done to them.  There were six teenagers, the Defenders of Light, accompanied by one adult and a horse—and one extra creature, if you counted the Shade; another if you counted the trapped guardian spirit as well.  They walked in silence; the only sound other than the shuffling of feet and the creak of cart wheels came from the waterfall that hadn’t yet frozen.  It fell close to the trail, roaring as its waters cascaded over the rocks, down into the darkness.

            A lone figure watched their passing from up above.  Salinor Marken stood at the top of the Outer Wall of Nilanor, an academy of magic that sat in a mountain valley at the top of the falls.  Salinor Marken was the director of the academy—a task that had never felt too heavy until recently.

            With a troubled heart, Salinor watched the group descend.  He could not tell all of them apart from this distance in the gloom, but Salinor picked out Kylar Hunt leading the ragtag group.  Kylar Hunt was Nilanor Academy’s Weapons Master, having taken over the position when Salinor was made director.  He was young, perhaps too young and inexperienced for the job, but Kylar had gained a maturity few his age had reached.  Still, Salinor hoped he hadn’t made a mistake in letting Kylar lead the expedition.

            Kylar held the lead of a horse.  The horse pulled a cart, on which a cage had been fashioned of wood, metal, and magic.  In the cage Salinor could see a pile of blankets and skins.  The boy Joshua Flynn was huddled somewhere within that cage.

            Joshua was the main reason the Defenders of Light had left Nilanor.  He was why they were leaving the mountains and heading north, to cross the border out of Valoris and into Elwenarien.  Or rather, it was the Shade inside him.

            Salinor remembered far too well the incident two weeks previously.  Rebecca Miller had pounded on his door in the middle of the night, blabbering about Shades, being unable to find Kylar Hunt, and blood.  He’d contacted Kylar Hunt immediately, as well as some other trusted teachers, and followed Rebecca.  They found Kristine Drake hunched over Joshua, trying, with help from her fellow team members, to control the Shade that had taken dominance over his body.  Joshua’s brother Jacob lay on the ground, unconscious, a horrendous wound on his chest, and other members of the Defenders of Light had also suffered injuries.

            Binding the Shade proved to be too much for Krissa—it was too much for anyone at the Academy.  And so they were leaving, heading for the city Anduniae in Elwenarien, where Elven Healers and Spellcasters would be able to work on binding the Shade.

            Salinor had met with the Elven King late the night of the attack.  He remembered the conversation he’d had with King Mennoin when he’d asked for his assistance.

            King Mennoin had come to the academy for the Fall Festival disguised as a city Elf, wearing simple clothes in various shades of brown and grey.  When he met Salinor on the Outer Wall that starlit night, he was still in those same clothes.  His golden hair was braided to disguise its full length—one symbol of his status.  He greeted Salinor Marken, then stood, his hands clasped behind him, staring out into the night.

            “You wish for my help,” the king said.

            “Yes,” Salinor had replied, bowing slightly.  “Your grandson Devinon spoke highly of the Healers and Spellcasters in Anduniae, and we hoped they could bind a partially loosened Shade, as well as release a guardian spirit from its imprisonment.”

            An owl screeched in the night.  Mennoin raised his hand, and the owl landed on the battlement next to him.  He tickled it under its beak as he spoke.  “Why is the Shade at the academy in the first place?”

            “Your Majesty,” Salinor said, bowing further, “the Shade resides in a boy who is a member of the Defenders of Light.  It is important that he remain in the group.  According to our Time Weaver Mistress Robbins, the Defenders of Light may be the ones who face Erazmus if—”

            “When he returns,” King Mennoin corrected.  “He was not truly defeated, though the history books claim otherwise.”

            King Mennoin was silent a long time before continuing.  “These Shadow Walkers that caused the incident—who are they?”

            “They are mercenaries hired to capture Kristine Drake, another of the Defenders of Light, because of her bloodstone.”

            “Bloodstone?”  Mennoin stopped petting the owl and faced Salinor.  “A dragon’s bloodstone?”

            “Yes, Your Majesty.”  Salinor bowed his head respectfully.

            “Does this Kristine Drake have a brother, by any chance?”

            “Yes,” said Salinor, confused.  What did Kristine’s brother have to do with the king’s decision?  “She has a brother, though she cannot remember him, and I am under a vow to keep knowledge of him from her.”

            King Mennoin nodded once and turned back to face the opposite canyon wall.  The owl flew away.  “I will offer my assistance.”

            And that was that.  King Mennoin and his entourage left the next day, and a week later Elves had arrived to help build a cage for the Shade.  Now the Defenders of Light were journeying to Elwenarien, leaving in the dead of night.  They were untrained, inexperienced, novices in the ways of life.  Only Kylar Hunt would be there to protect them.  He hoped it would be enough.

Chapter Two: The Long Road

            Krissa looked up, staring one last time at Nilanor Academy’s Outer Wall.  It towered above her, a silent monolith in the night.  It was strange to think that she was leaving the one place she thought she’d be safe because that place had been proven unable to keep her safe.  Sadness pressed on Krissa.  It filled the silence that hung over the Defenders of Light, until she wanted to scream just to make a noise.  She pulled out a sphere from a pouch that hung on her belt instead.

            It was a transparent sphere that glowed with an inner blue light.  The light roiled within the sphere like clouds on a windy day.  It dashed against the sphere, endlessly searching for a way out.  The sphere served as a prison for Urakken, Krissa’s faithful guardian spirit who was doomed to dwell forever inside it—that was, unless someone managed to break the spell cast on him.

            Tears sprang to Krissa’s eyes.  Her vision blurred, making it difficult to see the path in front of her.  She blinked the tears away, but they kept coming, stinging her cheeks in the cold, as she imagined Urakken walking beside her.  Having died as a young dragon, he was no larger than a dog.  He’d rub his wings together and flick his tail, berating Krissa for being so foolish.  I’m so sorry, Urakken, Krissa thought.  All you ever wanted was to protect me, and now you’re stuck like this.

            “Kristine, are you okay?”

            Krissa looked up.  Rebecca walked beside her, shouldering her pack.  She looked at Krissa, concerned, with her dark brown eyes.  Her dark hair looked black in the night.

            Krissa wiped her cheeks hurriedly and shrugged, which was hard to do carrying her own camping pack.  “I’m okay, I guess.  I just…it’s all those Shadow Walkers’ fault.  They’re the ones who enchanted Robert, who made him attack us, who made Josh’s Wolf Shade come out, who trapped Urakken in here.  And all because they wanted—”

            Krissa stopped.  She couldn’t say any more, but she thought it.  Because they wanted the bloodstone.  Because they wanted me.  Krissa cradled the sphere in one hand and with the other fingered her bloodstone necklace.  The blue gem, a bluefire bloodstone, sat nestled in the metal tail of the dragon pendant.  The dragon’s wings were half-open, as though it was preparing for flight.  It looked nothing like Urakken who, for all his scales and spikes and fanned ears, often looked at Krissa with a gaze so gentle and full of love that it warmed her soul.  Krissa tightened the grip on her bloodstone and tried not to cry.  Though it was the only thing that linked her to her forgotten past, she hated it right now.  She hated what it represented—what she had lost.  Her family, her best friend, her guardian spirit—they were all gone.

            “It’s going to be okay,” Rebecca said, giving Krissa’s arm a reassuring squeeze.  “We’ll get to Anduniae, and then everything will work out.”

            “I hope you’re right,” Krissa said, and tears threatened to spill down her face once more.  She straightened up, slipped the sphere back into her pouch, and clenched the straps of her pack tight.  There was no time for tears.

            “She is right!” Lissay skipped over, a hard thing to do with a thirty-pound pack, especially in the dark on a cliffside trail, and came up on Krissa’s other side.  She was the youngest of the Defenders, only twelve years old, and her pixie-like frame was so small that Krissa often wondered how she kept all her energy in her tiny little body.  “That’s why we’re going, isn’t it? To help Joshua.  Here.”  She pulled out two muffins from somewhere within her fur-lined cloak and handed them to Krissa and Rebecca.  “I snitched these from the kitchen before we left.”

            “Thanks,” said Krissa and Rebecca.  Krissa picked at the muffin absentmindedly, but the chilly night air forced her to eat it just so she could get her hands back under her cloak.

            “I hope I can help,” Lissay continued.  “We’re working on iambic pentameter in Spellcasting, and I think I’m getting much better.  Did you know that the rhythm of a spell can be just as important as the words in the spell?  And how fast you say the spell can affect how it works?  And that sometimes you don’t need a whole rhyme for a spell—that sometimes spells work when they’re only a word or two long?  I’m trying to come up with those one- and two-word spells and writing them down so that I can practice them so that next time—when—”  Lissay stammered and fell silent.

            Krissa felt a rush of sympathy for Lissay. She may be the most talkative member of the Defenders of Light, but when Lissay found herself in the middle of a life-and-death battle, words failed her.  She hadn’t been able to cast a single spell.

            “Anyway,” said Lissay, snapping back into her usual smile.  “Don’t you think it’s a wonderful night to be leaving?  I was worried it would be snowing, since it was earlier this week, but the stars are shining and everything, and you can almost see everything because of the moon.  It kind of reminds me of your ball.  It sure is pretty even though—”

            Lissay suddenly stopped.  She looked behind them and said, “Sorry, I guess I got carried away.  You probably don’t want to have the pretty ball, since your dragon’s stuck inside it.  I think I’ll go now.”

            Lissay slipped back, and Krissa turned to see Devinon walking a ways behind them.  She slipped her hand in her pocket and touched her group talisman—a little blue stone with a swirling white star attached to a leather string.  Each of the Defenders of Light had one, but Krissa kept hers in her pocket instead of on her neck—it kept getting tangled with her bloodstone’s silver chain.

            The talisman grew warm under Krissa’s fingertips.  I didn’t think you’d want her talking about that right now, Devinon’s voice whispered in her head.

            Thanks, Krissa replied.  She looked at Devinon a little longer before turning forward once more—his hair, the color of the night sky, his tall, slender runner’s build, his Elvish ears that swept back into points.  Even carrying a heavy pack, he walked with dignity and authority.  Just looking at Devinon calmed Krissa.  He was always so sure of everything.

            A cold wind rushed across the cliff face, and Krissa pulled her cloak tight around her, trying in vain to keep the hood up.  They’d only been walking for half an hour or so, and her ears were already hurting from the cold.

            The way down to the canyon floor was slow.  The trail was barely big enough for the cart, and Kylar Hunt had to stop several times to hack away ice that lay across the trail before they continued on.  Krissa placed every step carefully in front of the other, and she breathed a sigh of relief when they finally reached the canyon floor. 

            There was a brief pause as Kylar searched for the path to the bridge under a layer of snow and ice, and Krissa and the others shivered as they waited.  Krissa could just barely make out Jake standing next to the cart, keeping watch over his brother Joshua.

            Finally, Kylar Hunt straightened up.  “This way,” he said, his voice barely carrying above the noise of the falls, “We need to go further before we set up camp.”

            The Defenders followed Kylar Hunt over the river and down the snow-covered road, heading downstream towards the mouth of the canyon.  Krissa’s feet quickly became wet and chilled, but it was four hours before Kylar announced it was time to stop.  They were still in the canyon, but they’d come across an area next to the river that was flat enough to set up camp.  Mountains towered above them, their snowcapped peaks shining white even in the darkness.  Kylar began scraping the thin layer of snow off the ground with the tip of his sword’s scabbard.  Devinon joined him.

            Krissa trudged forward to the center of the clearing with a moan of relief.  Her shoulders were aching from where her pack’s straps dug into them, and her ears, nose, and fingers were half-frozen.  She couldn’t feel her feet anymore.  She let the pack crash to the ground.  Kylar Hunt glanced at her, disapproval evident on his face.

            Krissa ignored him.  A sharp wind cut through the canyon, chilling her to the bone.  She shivered and riffled through her pack with her numb, cold fingers.  She pulled out two oilskin sheets and a bundle of blankets.  She looked around.  Rebecca pulled out a similar bundle.  Lissay pulled hers out with a vicious tug, and the oilskin sheets and blankets scattered across the frozen ground.  Jake had already organized his blankets and scrambled inside.  Krissa was pretty sure she could hear him snoring.

            “Use one oilskin as a tarp on the ground, and wrap the other around the blankets to make your bedding,” Kylar Hunt instructed.  “We’ll warm some rocks up and place them in the blankets.”  He grabbed a bundle of wood and started piling the logs up in the center of the clearing to make a fire.

            Krissa was busy trying to set up a lean-to shelter when she heard someone clear their throat.  She turned.  Devinon stood there, holding one of their food packets.  Her eyes flicked at the packet, then back at Devinon’s face.

            “It’s your turn,” he said, holding out the packet.

            Krissa’s eyes went immediately to the cart.  It stood at the edge of the clearing, practically under the trees, away from the rest of the camp.  Not even the horse was tethered near it.  She bit her lower lip.  Somehow, she thought that Jake would take care of things once they were on their way, but obviously that wasn’t the case, seeing as he was already asleep.  But the fear was silly.  The Shade hadn’t come out.  It was just Joshua in the cage.  Only Joshua.

            Nodding, Krissa took the packet from Devinon.  She smiled nervously at him.

            Noting the fear, Devinon said, “Do you want me to come with you?”

            Krissa snorted.  “Of course not.  I’ll be fine.  Even if it does come out, it can’t get out of the cage.”  With that, she stomped off in the direction of the cart.

            For all her brave words, Krissa slowed as she exited the camp and approached the cart.  It was close enough to see from camp, but far enough away that the sounds of the river masked whatever cries for help she might make.  Krissa wondered at the wisdom of that.  But it was too late to turn back.  She approached the cart.

            The bars of the cage shone in the darkness, but Krissa looked past the bars to the pile of blankets on the wooden floor.  She tiptoed slowly forward until she saw the tousled red hair of the top of Josh’s head.  Krissa breathed a sigh of relief.

            “Josh,” she whispered.  The boy stirred.  “Josh,” she repeated, “I brought you food.”

            The mound of blankets rose up, then tumbled off of Joshua.  He blinked wearily, squinting at Krissa in the darkness.  “We stopped?”

            “Yes,” she said.  “I can’t believe you fell asleep.  It’s so cold.”

            “It’s not too bad with all these blankets,” said Josh.  “Plus, I don’t exactly have anything else to do.  Did you say something about food?”

            Krissa stepped forward and held up the packet.  Josh smiled and ran a hand through his wild red hair.  It was shaggy and reached almost to his shoulders.  Joshua was thin and pale, and as someone behind Krissa got the fire going the light from the flame suddenly made his green eyes shine like bits of glass.  But at least they were still his eyes.

            Krissa slipped the packet of food between the bars and set it on the floor.  Joshua snatched up the packet and tore off the paper.  He shoveled the bread and dried meat into his mouth as though he was half-starved, and Krissa watched with mixed pity and disgust.  “How are you?”

            Josh shrugged.  He tugged absentmindedly at a leather collar he wore.  His Defenders of Light talisman was inlaid in the collar. “I’m okay.  He’s sleeping right now.  I didn’t know he needed sleep—but maybe he does now that he comes out more.  How are the others?”

            “They’re good,” Krissa lied.  “Lissay’s talkative, as usual.  And Jake’s healed so well that he probably won’t even have a scar.”

            Josh stiffened and looked down at his hands.  Krissa mentally slapped herself on the forehead.  Why did she have to say that?  Joshua had been the one who injured Jake—well, not Joshua, but the Shade that lived inside him.  “I’m sorry,” she stammered.  “Has Jake talked to you much?”

            “Not much,” said Josh.  The tone of his voice shifted slightly, enough to set Krissa’s teeth on edge.  He looked up, and his eyes glinted with a yellow sheen.  He smiled.  “But enough to know that he hates me.”

            Krissa stiffened.  The Wolf Shade had come out.  “Let Joshua back out,” she demanded.

            The Shade tilted its head sideways and tapped a finger on its chin, pretending to think.  “Humm, no, I don’t think I will.”  He crawled forward until his face was pressed against the bars and slowly wrapped his fingers around the bars.  “Being out is so much fun, even if I’m trapped in a little cage.”

            Shivers ran through Krissa’s body that had nothing to do with the cold, and her hand went to Urakken’s pouch, even though she knew he couldn’t help her.  She slowly backed away from the cage.

            “I’ve been in cages ever since that night, in Nilanor, here on the trail," the Shade continued, “and I have to say the best part of being trapped here is the company.”  He stared into Krissa’s eyes and she froze, immobilized by his yellow gaze.  “Jacob is a fun one to torment, but you, Kristine, are even better.”

            Krissa fought against the Shade’s power, but she was helpless.  The sounds of the camp faded as the Shade’s power over her grew.  Her hand inched towards the pocket of her dress.  She had to grab her talisman.

            “I know all your secrets, all your fears,” the Shade whispered.  Josh’s face elongated, and his teeth turned into fangs, until the Shade’s smile was a jackal’s grin.  “Poor little Kristine Drake, unable to protect her dear, dear friends.  She’s such a little weakling that her own brother didn’t want her.  He left her to rot at that smelly old foundling home, and he never came back, even though she was so sure he would.  Well, now Kristine’s all grown up, and she’s still weak.  She couldn’t save Joshua.  She couldn’t tear the Shade from his body, and she couldn’t lock it up inside him either.  She’s pathetic, useless.”

            Krissa’s fingers grasped her talisman.  It grew warm in her hand, and the Shade’s spell over her snapped.  She whipped her hand up and pointed the talisman at the Wolf Shade.  “Punishment,” she muttered.

            Joshua’s talisman flared white hot in the collar that he wore, and light flashed across his body.  The Shade shrieked once in pain and collapsed on the ground.  The light faded.  All noise from the camp stopped, and Krissa knew the others were looking up to see what had happened.

            Krissa bit her lip, but she kept her talisman trained on the Shade, waiting for it to make another move.  Joshua claimed that the punishment spell Lissay had placed on the talismans never hurt him, but it was like Joshua to hide his own pain for the sake of the others.

            The Shade tried to push itself to its hands and knees, but it slipped and fell back to the floor of the cage.  Satisfied, Krissa turned and started to walk away.

            “Do you want to know where your brother is?”

            The Shade’s voice stopped Krissa in mid-step.  She turned back and stared at him.

            The Wolf Shade shakily pulled himself to his knees, using the bars for support.  He had changed Joshua’s face back, but the yellow eyes still gleamed.  “I could tell you, if you like.”

            Krissa rushed back to the cage.  Her face was level with the Shade’s.  “What do you know?”

            The Shade’s grin widened.  “I know where he is, and I’ll tell you—if you’ll do one thing.”

            Krissa waited.

            “Unlock this door and leave me.”

            A tumult of emotions raged through Krissa.  Longing to see her brother, to know where he was, filled her heart—she thought she had outgrown him, that she didn’t care anymore whether she ever saw him again, but it had been a lie.  Her hand started to raise towards her bloodstone—a little blast of magic from it would destroy the cage’s lock easily—but guilt for considering the Shade’s offer stopped her.  If she opened the cage door and the Shade escaped, then they could always capture it again.  But if someone got hurt while it was free, Krissa would never forgive herself.  And what if the Shade didn’t tell her where her brother was once she unlocked the cage, or what if he didn’t know where her brother was at all?

            Krissa pushed herself to her feet and staggered away from the Shade.  “You’re lying,” she spat.  She spun around on one foot and stormed back towards the camp, ignoring the looks Kylar Hunt and Devinon gave her as she passed them.

            “Perhaps,” the Shade called after her.  “But if you leave now then you’ll never know the truth.”

            Krissa just kept walking.