My voice merged with the drum's rhythm of bone and hide. Flowing like spirit water, a warm light glowed and ebbed around the skull of Fenvolvna. A wolf's howl echoed across my sacred lands within the Otherworld. Nothing mattered but the song, and I was caught in its rapture along with Selketh.

The potion took hold again, and Selketh clasped the fifth talon between her folded palms, her eyes open but focused on a new vision beyond. "Five years later. The fifth talon brings me to eighteen years old. A young woman, yet I'm still a child outside of my cloistered world. I live only within the confines of The Shadow and its regimen. I nevertheless keep many secrets. The extent of my power is mine alone. I hear more than I admit to them, and learn much as a result. By staying silent and obedient, I make them believe I'm but a seer of passable talent. Eleiana is still my caretaker, but I've earned recognition from the elders, and will soon be a citizen on my own.

"It's a rainy afternoon. Hir Thulsbek and his Quorum summon us to a meeting. Eleiana and I go to the top floor of the Polneitenzal administrative center in our compound. My tailored black uniform is pressed to perfection, tall boots polished, the emblems of Myrktilhet pinned proudly to my collar and left breast. Eleiana matches me in her citizen's jacket and skirt, her cap tipped smart over her blue eyes. Hir Thulsbek tells us we've been selected as part of a special mission, on direct orders from Hir Kaezer himself.

"There's a traitor of the worst kind who defected to the colonies years ago, Hir Thulsbek says--a former elder of the inner Circles, who has defiled the Old Ways by revealing them to the unworthy rabble of the orbital society. This upstart has founded his own order and teaches the sacred truth in defiance of all we hold dear. His name is Hir Kraelis Jaster, a sorcerer and seer of one of the most ancient shamanic families in Pruessia. Hir Jaster must be stopped at all cost, and his vile organization destroyed along with him. Myrktilhet has sworn to take down this renegade shaman at the behest of the highest officers in the regime. And Eleiana and are perfect candidates for the task--Hepslovian, thus we can pretend to be against the Kaezer's agenda. Eleiana is of a respected shamanic family, so she should be able to approach Hir Jaster's organization and get us in. I am to pose as her disciple. Between our efforts and others who will also be deposed as agents of The Shadow, Eleiana and I stand to aid the Pruessian Empire in their most important endeavor of the War. It will be a strike at the very heart of our enemies, Hir Thulsbek tells us. If we succeed, the great leader himself will glorify our names across the Empire, and we'll be rewarded with positions of prestige and influence in the new society.

"But first, we must prove ourselves and seal our loyalty to Myrktilhet and the Kaezer's will. The elders lead us to a private terrace on the roof of Polneitenzal. To my surprise, there's a Circle here. Four stone monoliths surround a raised altar at the center of the pavilion. A flame blazes upon an iron-encased pyre, with  a line of robed and masked acolytes standing beside it. They bear long, curved staves tipped with animal skulls. Eleiana and I are led to a point in the middle of the Circle. Hir Thulsbek grins, his teeth pointed and worn as old fangs. He waves a hand, and a hooded seeker enters with a lamb cradled in her arms. The lamb looks about with dull, innocent eyes and bleats. The seeker ties it to the altar with a cord of black silk.

"Five uniformed officers enter the Circle with sharp-eared Pruessian Shepherd dogs on leads. A thin, shabby man in citizen's coveralls stumbles into our midst. His hands shake between the thick steel bars of a wrist restraint. A pair of driver robots escort him to the altar and shove him to the ground. On his knees, the prisoner stutters and raves about his innocence and how much he loves the great leader.  Hir Thulsbek strikes the man across the back with a thin black cane. Forced to all fours, the prisoner begs for mercy. My throat feels like a vise, as if I'm choked for breath. I force myself to stand tall and without emotion, as Eleiana seems to have no difficulty doing. In truth, I want to run and hide.

"The seeker who brought the lamb pushes her hood back. Long blonde hair falls to her knees, tall and lithe as a goddess. Her stunning blue eyes leer from a face half tattooed with the markings of a primitive skull. The other half is her natural appearance, a woman too beautiful and pale for waking sight. I recognize her--Hella, the highest ranking seer in Hir Thulsbek's private Circle. Rumors abound  that Hella is much older than she looks, that she never ages, and that she sees beyond the ken of any other shaman alive. Some even whisper that she commands Hir Thulsbek despite her lower rank, but I've never found solid proof to believe such talk. Regardless, Hella has always terrified me, She ties a lead around the necks of the prisoner and the lamb, binding them together.

"The officers release the dogs, but shout commands to restrain them in Pruessian. The five large canines growl and pant in anticipation, circling.

"'The dogs are anxious for a kill,' Hella says. 'They will rend either you or your woolly little friend, or both, with a single word of release.  You have been judged guilty by the Council for assaulting a seeker of Myrktilhet, and by proxy of high treason to the Kaezer. But, we of the most High Quorum are not without sympathy, and we do enjoy a game. Will you take a chance to gain your pardon and freedom?' The prisoner crawls forward and bows, dragging the lamb with him. He says he'll do anything to redeem himself.

"Hella gives a smug grin. 'We shall see,' she says. She comes to Eleiana and I. My knees tremble at the closeness of this sadistic and powerful seer. I wonder if Hella can sense my fear, but she doesn't seem to care. She calls us her sisters in The Shadow, and embraces each of us in turn. As she does so, she whispers in our ears. I don't know what she whispers to Eleiana. To me, Hella says, ' If the prisoner chooses you, you will shout 'Angregh il allt.'

"The words mean to attack everything in Pruessian. I nod once, keeping my gaze respectfully forward and my chin high, and I salute to the Kaezer with Eleiana. The prisoner cowers before us. Hella steps back, and Hir Thulsbek takes her place before the altar. His black robe flows behind him like the darkest sea of nightmares. 'One of these loyal citizens knows the words to bring your salvation, and the other will announce your death. The one you choose will show us your respect for the Old Ways, which are so cherished by the great leader. And perhaps, we may find it in our hearts to forgive your transgression. The question you must present is, 'Whose life is the most valuable, mine or the lamb's?' You will ask each of these women the same question, and may only choose one of them based on their answer. If you pick the one with the correct answer, you will be spared, and the lamb will die in your stead. If you choose unwisely, both of you will die as a sacrifice to the Guardians, and the blood will redeem your spirit in the Otherworld.

"The prisoner lets out a frightened sob, but he agrees. The lamb shakes itself calmly, and chews at the black canvas of the convicted man's citizen uniform. Still hovering at the edge, their mottled dark and brown noses low and tails stiff, the dogs wait for the signal. The prisoner addresses Eleiana first, and asks which life is more valuable.

"'Neither has value,' Eleiana answers.  'All are born the same way, through the blood and agony of the mother, and all will die, reduced to equal void. Nothing matters in the end.' She lifts her head and seems amused by the prisoner's gape-jawed reaction. He looks at me, and shuffles closer on his knees. His grubby fingers clutch at the hem of my skirt. When he asks me the question, I remember that I'm being tested as much as he is. All eyes watch me, cold expectation raking my skin. A dog growls and licks its sharp teeth. Hir Thulsbek folds his hands and his cadaverous face beams in anticipation. The prisoner's fate has surely been decided, regardless of what I say. This game is meant to examine me. Eleiana is one in purpose with the elders, as her hopeless statement revealed. Cornered on every account, I choose to tell the truth. There is nothing to gain from a posturing lie.

"'Human life is always more valuable than an animal's,' I tell him. 'Yours is more important than the lamb's.' The prisoner chooses me, and my answer, and my gut drops at what I must say. At what I know is about to happen. Must I truly do this? Can I defy them all, here and now, and give up my own schemes of deception? I want to confess that I hate them all, including Eleiana, to spit on all the years of training and desperation I've endured. In that brief, flaring moment of impudence, I realize that my own life is more valuable to me than anything, or anyone. I'll continue as I have, and pretend to be what I must, until the chance comes when I might escape this world of insanity and cruelty. Somehow, I will find a way to survive, and get away from all of them. At this crucial moment, it requires my reluctant cooperation once more."

Selketh squeezed the fifth talon until a slim trickle of blood stained her fingers. My song filled the hollow space between us, a link to the supposed stability of the present. Lost in the horrors of her past, Selketh's eyelids fluttered. She continued, and her words tumbled forth like pieces of a shattered relic.

"I speak the command which seals their doom. Two lives, one innocent, one questionable, become forfeit in exchange for my own. The dogs fall upon them in a snarling pack, claws and fangs bared. Gore and screams fly, man and animal shredded.  So much blood splatters against the perfect shine of my boots, flecks my skin, my heart crashing against the walls of my chest. Laughter peals from the assembled seekers. Hir Thulsbek, Hella, and Eleiana bear the same smile--the grimace of gleeful skulls, as if their flesh peels away and shows their natures, their delight over the suffering of life's meaningless ploy.

"When the sacrifice is over, the officers recall the dogs. It's near impossible to distinguish between the lamb or the prisoner amid the carnage. Hir Thulsbek announces Eleiana and I are blessed by the Guardians, and deems us worthy to wield the great leader's ultimate plan. As the seekers chant and dance our praise, the drums resume their ominous thrum. Hella draws a sharp silver blade, kneels beside the bodies, and slices the mutilated heads free. She holds both aloft to the sky, throws her head back and trills a victory cry. I'm empty inside, and I'm glad of it. Emotions are a weakness I can't show to anyone. Until I find the right method and time to execute my liberation and revenge, I'm bound to play the hapless fool of The Shadow."

As if burdened by a load she could no longer bear, Selketh dropped the cord of talons and buried her face in her hands. She wept for several minutes, and I lowered the drum to a slow, soothing beat. Once she regained her composure, she took another drink of the potion and gathered the sixth talon into her hands. 

"Must go on," she whispered. Her voice was dry and worn, the forced resolve of a woman crushed beneath regret. "It continues in spite of my wish to bury it forever. The War draws closer, and will destroy us all, unless we confront the darkest corners of our own souls."

Author's note: Three talons remain, and the story only gets more dire from here on. Selketh speaks true...the darkest hour has yet to strike. And our heroes have much to face if they stand a chance at defeating the evil lurking in their midst.