Caile had slept fitfully throughout what remained of the night and well into the morning hours as the steam-powered turnip cart carried him along the eastern road away from Col Sargoth. The mysterious sorceress driving the cart did not slow or stop until the sun had nearly reached its apex, at which point she steered the cart off the main road down a muddy tract leading to an abandoned farm. There she parked the cart in a dilapidated barn, roused Caile, and ushered him into a single-axle wagon. Caile rubbed the weariness from his eyes as she hitched a sway-backed plow horse to the cart, and then they were off onto the main road heading east again. Caile started to speak on several occasions, but the cart clacked loudly on the rutted road, and if the woman heard his half mumbled questions, she ignored them.

When the sun set over the horizon at their backs, the woman steered the cart from the road into a copse of trees and finally called a halt. After so many hours of not speaking, Caile found himself nearly mute, unsure where to start or what to ask the woman who had rescued him. The fact that he had abandoned his men in Lightbringer's Keep weighed heavily on his heart, and he realized with consternation that he had forgotten his mace back in the turnip cart earlier that afternoon. Again, he was armed only with his boot knife. He knew the sorceress had rescued him twice now and seemingly had good intentions, but that didn't mean Caile should trust her. Roanna and her men were pleasant enough, too, until they got the information they wanted from me.

Caile helped the woman unbridle the horse and make camp, and neither of them said a word. Not until after she had a fire going and they were both nibbling on crumbly flat bread beside it did he finally speak.

"Why did we abandon your steam cart?" he asked between bites. "It's faster than your crippled horse, I imagine."

The woman answered without looking up from the fire. "Because the Emperor's men will be looking for a steam cart full of turnips when the guards tell him they let it pass freely through the eastern gate. Besides we were nearly out of fuel. The steam cart is fast, but it has a limited range."

"How far are we from Col Sargoth?"

"Nearly a hundred and fifty miles since last night."

Caile raised his eyebrows, impressed. "Not even the Emperor's fastest horsemen could catch us at that pace."

"No," the woman agreed, "but Wulfram could."

Caile digested her words silently. "Who are you?" he asked finally.

"My name is Talitha. I am a sorceress."

"But you're not part of the guild?"

"No. I am in league only with myself and hopefully with you now."

"You know who I am then, I take it?"

She nodded at him and narrowed her eyes. "I'm quite aware of who you are and the foolishness you've been up to, Prince Caile Delios."

Caile felt his face heat with embarrassment, but he bit back the rash words on his tongue. "How is it that you know so much? How were you able to find me?"

"I'm merely observant, Prince. There is much to see when you know what to look for."

"Well, I appreciate what you've done for me," Caile said, annoyed by her cryptic words, "but I must leave you and head south."

"You can make that decision when we reach Arnsfeld, unless you mean to forge your way through the thick of Forrest Weorcan."

"We are on the eastern high road, then?" he asked.

"Yes. Your path is decided for you for the time being, I'm afraid. Behind you is Col Sargoth, to the north is the Sargothian River, and to the south the Forrest Weorcan. The only way to go is forward."

Caile said nothing, and so their conversation ended for the evening. He was impatient to get back to Kal Pyrthin and help his father, but he knew Talitha was right. There was nothing to do but keep heading east for now. In the morning, they broke camp hastily and were on the road before the sun crested before them. Caile insisted on taking the reigns at intervals throughout the day to give Talitha a rest, but they said little and their actions were short and purposeful—they steered the cart ever eastward, stopped for water and food breaks only when the horse needed it, and made camp for the night when the sky darkened, nothing more. For four days straight they did this, and then on the evening of the fifth day out from Col Sargoth the road drew within sight of the Sargothian River and they reached the farms bordering Arnsfeld.

"There is an inn I know of on the far side of the city," Talitha said. "We will stop there for the night, and you can decide then which way you will go in the morning."

Caile nodded silently and they continued on. Arnsfeld was unremarkable after having been in Col Sargoth, and Caile paid little attention to the layout of the city and the people inhabiting it. It was not unlike the cities in Valaróz or Pyrthinia, except that even the largest buildings were predominantly made of wood rather than stone. The roads were laid out in the same grid-like pattern, and the people moved about with the same busyness as people in any city. There were no steam-powered carts, no smelting factories, no tar paved streets, and no gas lit street lamps. In fact the city was rather small, and they passed through it unimpeded and soon found themselves at the The Lonely Pine, the inn Talitha had spoken of.

The stablehands at The Lonely Pine promptly took their horse and cart, and after a few brief words with the innkeeper, Talitha acquired a private room and a warm supper to be brought up for the two of them. Before retiring to the room, however, she insisted that Caile visit the bathhouse at the back of the inn.

"You reek of turnips and feces," she remarked.

"Hardly surprising considering I've crawled through the sewers and been buried in turnips," Caile said with a shrug, but he did not protest. In fact, the thought of a bath sounded almost better than a meal and strong ale did to him at that moment.

The bathhouse was hardly elegant—the water in the wooden tub was lukewarm and far from clean—but Caile emerged feeling like a new man. The innkeeper's wife took his feculent clothes to wash, promising to deliver them to his room dry and clean in the morning, and in the meantime she gave him a spare set of baggy britches and a ridiculously large tunic to wear for the night. The tunic hung nearly to his knees and looked like a dress on him. "Some fat man forgot 'em behind several months back," the woman said. "Not pretty, but they'll keep you from having to run around bare-skinned."

When Caile was finished in the bathhouse and finally retired to their room, he found Talitha waiting and their food already delivered. They ate the barley and lamb porridge ravenously, and when the two of them were done, Talitha for the first time looked Caile in the eye and regarded him from where they sat facing each other across the small end table between their two beds.

"Well, Prince Caile, you are not the pampered boy I expected you to be," she said. "You work hard and do not complain."

Caile shrugged and pulled the loose tunic tighter around his shoulders. "I don't see what I have to complain about. My men I left behind to die in Col Sargoth, and my father waits execution. They are the ones who have reason to complain."

Talitha smiled, though with little joy. "You mean to make for Kal Pyrthin then and save your father? Or try at least?"

"What else am I to do?"

"Did it ever occur to you that I might have rescued you for a reason?"

Caile shrugged. "I suppose. What reason?"

Talitha sighed and closed her eyes. "I know you think you've already made up your mind, that you have no choice but to head for Kal Pyrthin, but that is not the case. You sit at a fork in the road and you can choose one of many directions. In one direction, yes, you can make haste southward and try to save your father, but that is not the only path before you."

"You see a better path, I take it?" Caile asked.

"Yes, you could continue with me."

"And what is there for me along your path?"

Talitha leaned her head back in deep concentration. "Your sister, and perhaps much more."

"Taera? Where?" Caile edged forward on his bed, a brief glimmer of hope in his heart for the first time in days.

"I see the caverns of ice from my childhood, and my instincts tell me I must return and that I will need your help if I am to succeed."

Caile narrowed his eyes. "Who are you, really? And why do you insist on speaking in riddles?"

Talitha opened her eyes and smiled. "I am who I said I am, and I am sorry if I speak in riddles. I have great strength in many areas but seeing the future is not one of them. All I can see are images shrouded in fog and doubt. It is left to me to interpret their meaning. But this I am sure about, for I have seen it clearer than any other image in my life. Your sister is captive in the Caverns of Issborg, or will be soon, I am certain."

"And what does she mean to you?"

"Everything," Talitha said, "for her fate is tied to mine. Few things are clear to me, but your sister is—or protects—the key to defeating Guderian. That I am certain."

Caile nodded. "Roanna spoke of a prophecy. She said my sister was foretold to defeat the Emperor. Is it true?"

"Whether your sister is the one, I cannot say. But Roanna is there in the caverns with your sister, and the prophecy she spoke of is no lie. It was foretold by the mightiest seer in Khail Sanctu on Thedric Guderian's tenth birthday."

Caile leaned back onto the straw mattress of his bed and rubbed one hand over his face. He had been so certain of himself when he'd left his sister and father in Kal Pyrthin, but now he was certain of nothing. He had thought Stephen and Roanna allies at first, but they had tried to kill him. How do I know I can trust her? he asked himself of Talitha.

"I cannot give you any better token of trust than to beg you for your help," Talitha said.

"You read my thoughts," Caile accused, but Talitha shook her head.

"I do not need to read your thoughts, Prince Caile. Your concern is written plainly on your face, and it is not unfounded. There are few you can trust, but I will tell you in all sincerity that I am one who you can trust. I am an enemy of the Emperor. I am a worshiper of Tel Mathir, and I dream of a day when the Sargothian Empire is gone and once again the Five Kingdoms are intact. I dream of a day when those with the capacity to wield magic are not feared and hunted."

Caile was silent for a long moment as he weighed his thoughts. "I think you are being honest with me, so I will be honest with you. My heart tells me to follow you and help my sister, for I have little love for my father. But still, loyalty drives me to Kal Pyrthin. Casstian is my king and sire. What sort of prince would I be if I let the Emperor kill him without a fight?"

"What if I were to tell you that you could not help your father?" Talitha asked. "What if I told you help was already on the way?"

~~~

Parmo woke with a start. "What? What is it?"

Rufous was standing over him shaking his shoulders, and at the bow of the small skiff Gaetan, the other man Parmo had rescued, stood waiving his arms frantically.

"A ship has spotted us," Rufous said. "We're saved."

Parmo pushed himself up from where he lay curled up in the stern of the skiff and looked in the direction his two shipmates were pointing. There was indeed a ship heading right toward them, rising over the ten-foot swells with ease. It flew no colors at its mast and appeared to be a merchant ship. Probably for the best, Parmo surmised. They had spotted land earlier that morning and while Parmo guessed it was the shores of Pyrthinia they saw, he could not be certain, and it was safer to be picked up by a merchant ship than one from the Valarion navy.

It had been six days since Pyrthin's Flame had burned and sunk into the Esterian Ocean. Parmo and the two sailors he saved had set a course due west, but they had with them only a makeshift sail and none of Parmo's navigation equipment, so they were relegated to navigating by the sun and stars, which was sufficient for the first two days, but then the winds came and the formless gray clouds blotted out the sky above. To make matters worse, they had been rammed on the third night by a whale or a shark—it had been too dark for them to be sure—and the tiller was ruined beyond all repair. That left them with nothing to do but steer with their oars, no easy task with the strong south-blowing wind filling their sail. It was wearying, imprecise work, and they took turns at using an oar as a rudder and slept when their shift was through. All they were certain of was that they were exhausted and bearing in a somewhat westerly direction, and so they had no idea from where this new ship was approaching them or where it was going.

The ship lowered her sails as she approached, and after a few exchanged shouts back and forth, Parmo informed them they were indeed stranded. The sailors on the larger ship threw down tethering lines, and after securing the skiff in tow Parmo, Rufous, and Gaetan climbed up to the main deck of the larger ship.

"Thank you," Parmo said to the sailor who helped him over the rail. "Where are you bound for?"

"Kal Pyrthin," the man replied, but before Parmo could pry further, the captain of the ship pushed his way forward.

"I'll be the one asking questions," the captain said. "Where are you from and where are you bound?"

Parmo looked the men over silently for a moment before responding. By their accents and the look of them, he was confident they were Pyrthinian, not Valarion. Valarions were of darker complexion and tended to roll their r's slightly.

"We are the only survivors of Pyrthin's Flame," Parmo said finally. "She went down six nights ago, sabotaged by pirates and put to flame."

The captain eyed Parmo, unconvinced. "Pyrthin's Flame is the King's flagship, and I'll be a porpoise's teat if you're a Pyrthin naval man. You're a Valarion if I've ever seen one."

"You're quite right," Parmo conceded. "I was but a passenger on the ship, but these men are Pyrthin naval men and can vouch to the truth of my statement."

"Aye," Gaetan said. "Able Seaman, Gaetan Sodonia at your service."

"Third Mate, Rufous Delphinos," Rufous followed. "It is as he says. Someone killed the night crew, barricaded the main hold, and set the ship aflame. It was Parmo here who saved the two us and cut loose the skiff before Pyrthin's Flame went down."

"I tried to save the captain first, but the captain's quarters were the first to go up in flames," Parmo explained, somewhat by apology.

"This is disturbing news," the captain said. "Did you see your attackers?"

"They were already fled by time we were awoken," Rufous said. "All we saw was the shadow of a... a ship of some sort."

"You seem uncertain," the captain probed.

"It was night, and we were all half-choked and blind with smoke," Parmo explained, not wanting to reveal too much. "We saw the silhouette of something retreating to the west. That is all we can say for certain."

"Something, eh? Perhaps it was the same flying ship people say passed over Kal Pyrthin almost a fortnight ago?" the captain probed.

Rufous shot Parmo a glance but said nothing.

"It was certainly strange, whatever it was," Parmo answered. "Captain, if I may, I suggest we set off for Kal Pyrthin with all due haste. The King needs to know what happened immediately. There was valuable cargo on that ship."

"I'm afraid we have more strange news for you, friends," the captain said. "We have been told that King Casstian has been dethroned. For high treason the Emperor's dogs are saying. Word has spread to Tyrna even, where we are bound from. The entire Kingdom is in disarray."

"Thisis dire news," Parmo replied. "What do we do now?"