Free Rend the Dark by Mark Gelineau, Joe King

was barely human. That had been life, until Kay
and the others took him in. He could not allow her to fall into that existence.
It would change her. It would break her. As he had seen it happen to so many
others.
    No. He couldn’t let it come to that.
    He wouldn’t let it come to that.
    She had saved him. Now, he would do the same for her.
    He wrapped his arms around her and stayed perfectly still
as she slept. The thud of the team’s hoofbeats seemed to count down the moments
remaining in their journey to Resa, the capital, and to the Razor School of
Faith, where their new lives awaited.



Prologue
    Conbert’s hands were slick with sweat on the reins,
despite the cold breeze. Every rustle of the long yellow grass, every whistle
of the wind, any sound not the rhythmic clop of his horse’s hooves on the worn
cobblestone road sent his eyes darting and heart racing.
    He had traveled the Reach Road two times previous. Each
time had been without incident. Each time, he had arrived at his destination
hale and whole, without even a glimpse of the fabled predators the grasslands
were so famous for. Yet each time, the sense of dread, of cold fear, had been
with him.
    The first time, he had tried to play the part of the brave
hero, riding forth on a grand quest like the legendary figures in the old
stories. That lasted until he caught sight of the infamous drowning grass. The
blades were the height of a man and they moved with a sinuous and lifelike
grace on each side of the wide stone road.
    The fear had started then, shattering whatever myth he
might have fabricated of Conbert Eylnen, the future valiant officer of the
King’s Own. In the face of that grass and what he knew could be hiding under
it, he was just Con, apprentice engineer and architect, student of the academy,
and anxious to get the hell out of there.
    Somewhere far out across the sea of grass, a lone tree rose
up like an island. It marked the halfway point in crossing the grassland. It
had often given Con comfort. But this time, beneath the shade of its heavy,
twisted boughs, there was movement.
    A human shape.
    Impossible. The only road through the drowning grass was
the one he was on now. No one would be stupid enough to travel into the middle
of the cursed grass, set up like a picnic for the rendworms.
    Con pulled his horse to a halt. Reaching down to the heavy
saddlebag, he pulled out his surveyor’s glass and raised the delicate
instrument to his eye.
    Sure enough, there was a person. A girl. She seemed tall,
but even with the glass, it was difficult to judge at this distance. She had
short, blonde hair that was almost white as it ruffled in the wind. What really
caught his attention was her clothing: the familiar grays of an academy cadet.
The same grays he had worn as an underclassman a year ago.
    The fear came back, but this time wild. The girl was
doomed, marooned at that tree surely as any castaway on a lost island. It was
only a matter of time until the rendworms caught wind of her.
    Before he knew what he was doing, Con urged his horse into
a gallop, off the stone road and into the undulating grass. His breath rasped
and tears blurred his eyes.
    From the wind , he thought. Tears because of the
wind. Not because I am stupid and going to die out here.
    He rode hard across the grassland, the twisted spire of the
tree ahead of him. As it drew closer, he saw the cadet had caught sight of him.
She waved frantically. Conbert focused on her desperate movements, shoring up
his rapidly disappearing courage with the knowledge that he was her only hope.
    Something brushed his leg and he almost shrieked, but
realized it was only a heavy stalk of grass. The tree and the waving girl were
a few lengths away now.
    Con leaped from the saddle, stumbled, and fell on his face,
but he got up quickly. Breathlessly, he stood before the girl. “It’s alright,
cadet,” he gasped. “I can take you out—”
    Her hand shot out, covering his mouth. It was almost too
fast to