Free The Twins by Gary Alan Wassner Page B

was under his protection at last. Although still a child, he bore within him the seed of the future. He was the last great hope that the world had left, and Baladar would give his very life to nurture, support and enhance this hope.
    Baladar could sense the coming of his friends. He could also sense the evil lurking in the background, just beyond his comprehension and ability to pinpoint it. It was surely there, nevertheless, and it was not going to go away by itself. He had seen its face and the memory thereof was permanently inscribed upon his consciousness.
    His friends were quite competent and they were more than able to deal with whatever might come between them and their mission, but Baladar harbored misgivings nonetheless, for only a fool would not recognize the threat of a formidable foe just because its presence was not physically manifesting itself at the time. He knew that his vigilance was probably more important now that the boy was with him than it was before he even had him under his protective wing. Word would spread of his existence and his location. The spells that he cast upon Dav were strong ones and they would serve to shelter his essence from detection to a certain extent. Common people, people without magic, would continue to be innocent of the fact of his existence.
    Baladar was no fool though, and he was well aware that the forces opposed to him and the boy were crafty, strong beyond measure and devious. The Evil One would eventually discover who was protecting him and where he was being kept. It would take considerable effort and a long, long time, but so would the preparation. The battle lines were drawn ages ago, and it was only a matter of time before both sides would have to meet and confront the dichotomy. Only one force could and would emerge victorious, and Baladar was going to give every advantage to the side of life and goodness that he had fought on for so long, with all of the energy that he had.  
    As the sun set over the turrets of the castle, swathing the entire room in a crimson shower of broken light, Baladar pulled his cloak around his shoulders and prepared to leave. He wanted to arrive at his destination before the moon rose over the mountains, and he needed to return before sunrise the next. While strapping his sword to his belt, he hurried over to the chest in the far corner and spoke the words of power that would activate the mechanism allowing him to open the ancient wooden box.
    The latch sprung with a whooshing sound, like a balloon being quickly deflated by a pin prick, and the rim where the cover meets the bottom portion began to glow and sparkle ever so slightly. Baladar was accustomed to the reaction and paid it no mind. He pressed the two concealed buttons under the handles mounted on either side of the chest and then waited the full ten seconds required before lifting the top. With little effort, he raised the lid of oak, burnished and shining as brightly now as polished steel.
    Kneeling down in front of the box, he retrieved the small dagger from the tray suspended across the back of the box, the hilt of which harbored a ruby the size of a robin’s egg and secured to the handle by a web of woven platinum and gold. He cradled the weapon in his palm, and he felt the warmth of the stone and the power it generated immediately upon its contact with his skin. Baladar placed it carefully within the folds of his cloak and the nourishing heat penetrated his body.
    As if in a trance, without needing to look, the Lord of Pardatha reached into the far left-hand corner and picked up a small, square black velvet box. It had no marks of closure and no apparent cover, yet Baladar knew very well how to open it. He had been waiting untold years in order to do so and only now was he able to. From his pouch of gems in his pocket, he loosened the drawstring and took out the white diamond. It sparkled with an awesome beauty, as if alive with hope and joy, and if he could ascribe human