Free Asunder by David Gaider Page B

him. That's where anyone who mentioned this mysterious ghost agreed it could be found. If it was a spirit, Rhys owed it to his research to find why he couldn't sense it— and owed it to himself to prove that he wasn't being influenced by a rather clever demon.
                He looked in the archives. He poked around some of the forgotten areas of the tower, even places that were technically forbidden. Just when he started to suspect the entire thing was his imagination, he had stumbled upon Cole. Or, rather, Cole had stumbled upon him.
                Rhys remembered turning a corner and nearly running into the young man standing there, watching him. When Rhys spoke to him, the young man jumped as if struck. The shock of finding someone who could see him had been considerable, evidently, and it took more than a little convincing to calm him down. He'd been drawn by Rhys's search, but never once considered that it might be because Rhys had seen him previously. He'd long ago stopped watching for other people noticing him, because it never happened.
                That first conversation was . . . illuminating. According to Cole, he'd been brought in by the templars and thrown in a cell. He didn't remember when, and he didn't remember clearly how he got out— but now he found himself lost in a world that couldn't see him. Rhys had never heard of such a thing. In fact, he had to touch the man to be certain that this was, in fact, a real person.
                "How can you be invisible?" he'd asked.
                "I don't know."
                "But . . . people have seen you. Fleeting glimpses, anyhow. I've heard the stories."
                "Sometimes. I don't know why."
                Cole's answers were evasive. He was uncomfortable being questioned, and frightened of what Rhys was going to do with the knowledge of his presence. He begged not to be turned over to the templars, to the point of becoming frantic. Rhys had reluctantly agreed— who would believe him, after all, if he said an invisible man was stalking the tower halls? Especially if that man did not want to be seen.
                So he left Cole there, promising to return in the future, and didn't understand why the young man's response was silent incredulity until he found him again several days later. At that point, Cole was startled once again. He said he'd managed to get people to notice him before, he could do it if he really tried. But they always forgot about him again soon after. He just slipped their mind completely, and he assumed the same would happen with Rhys.
                But it didn't. Rhys kept coming back, at first because he was intrigued by this strange puzzle. If he could figure out what was making Cole invisible, perhaps it could be undone. Perhaps there was something to be learned by this power. Rhys was no scholar, but interesting research had always attracted him— especially if it could help someone.
                And Cole needed help. The young man never spoke of it, but it was obvious he was desperately lonely. As much as companionship was strange and frightening to him, the fear was never enough to keep him away. Eventually it stopped being about helping him; Rhys still wanted to find out the truth, of course, but now it was because he liked Cole. The young man was slow to talk, but had a sharp mind and a curious nature. He was also a perfect example of why the Circle didn't work. What if mages had been there to greet his arrival at the tower, with understanding rather than fear and scorn? What if he had been made to realize his talent wasn't terrifying, but unique and fascinating?
                So they met as often as Rhys dared. They played card games by the light of a glowlamp, and Cole showed him some of the mysteries he had uncovered in the Pit— things Rhys hadn't even suspected might be down there. They talked about