Free First Rider's Call by Kristen Britain Page B

faded over the generations, and so did memory. The discontinuity of mortal lives endangers the world.”
    So many emotions entangled Karigan, though dulled by shock and exhaustion, and the Eletian had sparked another in her: anger. The wave hovered above her, threatening to crush her with its full fury lest she lose her grip.
    “Certainly the Eletians would have done better,” Karigan said. “Yet evidently they did not take responsibility.”
    Telagioth did not react to the anger in her voice. Instead his fair features drooped into sadness. “It is true, but we were a broken and defeated people after the Long War. We had not the strength, except to succor our own wounds. I remember. Even now as your kind prospers and spreads its influence, we work to recover.”
    Karigan hugged herself, not sure if it was against the chill or his words.
    “The break in the D’Yer Wall has stirred powers on both sides of the wall, Galadheon. Our own time of tranquility and rest is over, and this you must tell your king. The warning is before us.” He gestured at the abandoned funerary slab and broken chains. “This creature that escaped, it was once a man. A man given an unnatural, unending existence by his master in exchange for his allegiance and his soul. I faced one such as he in battle long ago. And now he has found his way back into the world, as will others. Dark powers are awakening.”
    Telagioth shifted his stance and a quizzical expression crossed his features. He bent over and plunged his arm into the water up to his shoulder. “My toe nudged something,” he said. He pulled himself erect, holding at arm’s length, a dripping object. “This is an evil thing.”
    Looking more closely, Karigan saw it was the rusted guard and shard of a sword blade, with a broken, moldy wooden hilt. The hilt had probably been wrapped in leather at one time.
    “Your people did think to break it,” Telagioth said. “It was a sword used to steal souls, one of this creature’s cruelest weapons. Broken, it will serve him no more.”
    The wood of the hilt must have come from Blackveil Forest. Such a weapon would have given the creature the ability to command the dead. Now there was little question in her mind as to who the wraith’s master had been.
    Telagioth nodded as though he could detect her thoughts. “Yes, this creature was, long ago, a favored servant of Mornhavon the Black.”

CRANE

    When Karigan and Telagioth returned to the world above, gentle summer night air wrapped around them. The scents of fresh forest growth mingling with that of blood and viscera clung to the back of Karigan’s throat, leaving an acrid taste she could not swallow away.
    Soldiers called out to one another through the woods, and the chirruping of crickets rose and fell in erratic waves. The startling beauty of silvery moonstones alight in the clearing and among the trees revealed, once again, the carnage. It was too much of a sensory assault after the dank, cold silence of the tomb. It unbalanced her, and Telagioth placed his hands on her shoulders to steady her.
    Just then, soldiers approached, carrying a body in a makeshift stretcher made of two pikes and a blanket. An arm swung lifelessly over the side with the motion. When they passed, Karigan saw it was Lady-Governor Penburn they bore.
    I warned her . . . But the thought brought Karigan no solace. Nor was there anger. Not even for the woman whose decision it was to camp in the clearing against the advice of a seasoned bounder. The price had been paid, and Karigan was too tired to lash out at a dead woman.
    “You may tell your king our passage through his lands is peaceful,” Telagioth told Karigan. She had almost forgotten his presence. “We merely watch. Sacoridia lies in the immediate path of anything that should pass through the D’Yer Wall. Tell him he must turn his attention there, and not to seek out Eletia. Eletia shall parley with him when the time is deemed appropriate.” He hesitated,