CHAPTER 7

The emperor fumed. "How could you let this happen?" He shifted his portly frame, trying to make his massive body fit more comfortably onto a throne ment for one half his size. "Do you know the repurcussions of your failure?"

Ranchut held his face impassive and did not reply. Instead he sent a covert glance to the figure on his liege's right. A short man, cowled in black, leaned over and bent his mouth the the emperor's ear. No doubt he was telling the fool of a ruler to have his master hunter beheaded or some such nonsense. He watched as the scowl on the emperor's face deepend.

"My aid tells me you were bested by a harmless slip of a girl. Tell me Ranchut, have you at last gone soft? Is it time to find a replacement more worthy of your position?"

Ranchut held himself completely motionless for a long moment before suddenly launching himself at the emperor's aid. He grasped the man's head, yanked it back, and neatly ran his blade over the man's throat. He let the body fall at his feet and turned to face his liege. He lifted his voice so that it echoed to the farthest corners of the court. "I can't abide bad liars. The girl you speak of is A'tnari and was given aid by Trothivyr. Not what exactly one would call harmless." He leaned closer before stepping back and hissed softly, "Do not ever again make idle threats against me."

The guards and the members of the court held silent breaths as the assassin left the hall. As the echoes from Ranchut's booted feet at last died away, the Emperor gestured to his personal guard. "Have every guard in attendance here today strung up for failure to protect the royal body. No one comes armed into the presence of the emperor."

"That wasn't wise, Rays."

Ranchut looked up from the ancient tome he had been studying. "Pardon me?"

A shapely figure pulled herself off the doorway of the library and joined the assassin at his table. "In court today. Killing the emperor's aid. He was very fond of the man."

Ranchut snorted. "I won't have people plotting against me. I have enough problems without worrying about upstart pups vying for my position."

The fair haired woman leaned forward. "Yes well, next time be a little more circumspect about it. Five of my best guards are dead today because they failed to remove your weapons. As if anyone would be foolish enough to try and the emperor knows it. But someone had to suffer for his hurt pride."

Ranchut tilted his bald head to the side. "My dear General, if you will but grant the wish of my heart and join me at dinner this evening I will promise to do all of my killing away from the tender eyes of our lord."

The commander of the emperor's guards started in suprise. Before she could reply to his strange offer, she noticed the sly twinkle in his eyes. She chuckle and shook a finger at him. "Rays, I know your ways. There is no man alive less apt to trade for a woman's favors. In truth, what do you want?"

The assassin shrugged. "Stories." When she raised questioning eyes towards him, Ranchut continued on. "It is bandied about the castle that no one has a better collection of archaic legends, myth, and assorted lore than you."

General Noshi sighed and shook her head. "What clever scheme are you dreaming up now?"

He smiled, "No scheme my dear general, I simply wish to take Trothivyr's advice. He said that I should seek the writings of someone called Arapi. I can't seem to find anything here," he gestured around the emperor's library, "and I was hoping your collection might have what I seek."

It was Noshi's turn to smile, "You are following the advice of a dragon and searching for the writings of a demented monk who died over 8000 years ago. Perhaps you are slipping, Rays. But if it is the writings of Arapi the Mad you seek, then perhaps you should join me for dinner."

Dawn found Trevor and his party withing sight of the border. They paused to take in the sight of it. Gan looked up at it in astonishment, "We have to go through that?" He said nothing more.

The border stretched from the ground up to the sky, and beyond some said. It shimmered in the morning light, reflecting the light of the sun back to them. They found they couldn't look at the border too long. It was like a funhouse mirror, twisting the images it showed. As they emerged from the last pass they could see the mountains on their sides refleted upon it, but they could also see inside the mountains, and behind them. The border reflected the entire mountain, every bit from every angle. And they knew that when they grew closer it would do the same to them.

No one had ever crossed the border, but Trevor swore it could be done, and they believed in him. One and all.

"Nice of you to wait up for me."

Shera spun as she recognized Jorgran's gruffy voice. "Jorgran! You're alive! You're ok!" She ran to hug him. Pulling back she held him at arms length. "Did you find..."

He shook his head. "No, but I found that stupid girl that gave you all the slip. And get this, she's - oww!" Jorgran clutched his leg and glared at Deal.

The A'tnari raised her eyebrows meaningfully and said, "I'm hungry is what I am. What's to eat?"

Jorgran released his leg and opened his mouth to speak but no sound would come out. Enraged, he moved to grasp Deal around the throat but she danced lithely out of his way. "Temper, temper, Jorgran."

"Enough of this foolishness. We have plans to make." Trevor's voice cut into the fray.

Jorgran turned to face his leader, "Not until I've said my peace. That little brat," he pointed at Deal, "is Adelle A'tnari!"

There was a hushed silence, as all eyes but Trevor's turned to look at the girl. Trevor sighed as he looked at Jorgran, "Yes, I know. Did you really think me so near death that night as to think I wouldn't recognize an A'tnari? She reeks of their sorcerous blood, as shirly as F'loro reeks of the graves he used to dig."

"You know, Trevor, with a little more tact, people would like you a lot better. Besides, I certainly did not dig my own graves; I had my minions do all the labor intensive work. Or I'd animate them in the ground and make them dig their own way out." F'loro shrugged. "Either way, it's none of your business and it's all behind me now. The A'tnari, however, has everything before her." Finishing his say, F'loro turned and began walking towards the reflecting gate.

Melinda held out a hand in entreaty. "F'loro, wait. We must discuss our strategy." She shot a dirty look at Trevor and Jorgran. "Past and far future does not matter now. The border does. We must plan."

F'loro paused and turned. Remaining where he was he said, "Surely you know the history of the gate? It's impenetrable by force. Never been done - it can't be done. There's only one way. Go ahead, Trevor, tell them."

Trevor sighed. "The bonelord is right. There is only one way. We must pass through it. The gate lies in two planes the mortal and the...well, call it the spiritual. The mortal half will not allow passage. My plan was to pass it in the other."

Jorgran gritted his teeth. "What exactly do you mean by this, trychtari?"

"He means, my grumpy friend, that we get to pass through what Trevor has so aptly named as the spiritual plane." He pointed at the wall. "See how it reflects everything? When you get close enough, it will begin to reflect you as well - inside and out. If you deny what you see - you're denied forward movement. You can run away at any time but the moment you denounce yourself, you are banned forever from the border. Do keep in mind, though, that most people who run away go quite insane."

Gan shrugged. "That doesn't sound so bad. Just gotta see myself and not run - easy enough."

The thief ignored the comment and continued on. "Assuming you manage to get anywhere near the border, then you must contend with the guards.

Pether stood atop the wall, watching the eight approach the gate. He turned to survey the wall, and found himself the only guard. Most were carapacian, and he was the only human willing to stand without them.

The trychtari in the blood stained tunic seemed to be their leader. Pether entered the tower and desceneded the stairs to enter the main gate entrance. He took a place in the middle of it, sword drawn, to await the traitors.

Trevor led them towards the tower warely. In his entire plan this was the one part which could most easily go wrong. He had never faced a carapacian in battle, but had heard they were terrible opponents. If they couldn't fight their way through quickly, then they were lost.

They approached the gulf between the two towers, it was nearly 30 yards across, and within he saw only a single carapacian warrior. No, wait, carapacians didn't use swords. He realized that the sole figure standing guard was merely a man, admittedly a tall man, in armor styled to resemble a carapacian.

"Hold!" The armored figure said.

Trevor motioned his party to stop, and alone approached the armored knight. "I am sorry sir knight, but we must cross the border." Trevor looked from the night to the towers which loomed above, lookiong for signs of the bugs. He could smell them, but not see them, and that worried him more than the largets army could.

The knight readied his blade and planted his feet firmly, "I said hold, trychtari, none may pass the border by order of the emperor!"

Trevor stopped, and looked again from the towers to the knight, "Nonetheless we intend to pass. Gather your carapacian allies now. We are ready to fight our way to the dreadlands." With this Trevor drew the great claymore from across his back and pointed it at the knight.

The knight held his ground, which impressed Trevor, "You will battle no carapacians this day, their dreamer has forbidden them to interfere with your journey. But you will not pass."

Jorgran laughed. "Do you intend to stop us by yourself? Are you stupid or just insane?"

The youth said nothing.

Trevor took another step towards the youth, a step within striking distance. He seemed about to say something, but he found himself on the ground, with a welt growing across his back side and his blade sunk in the earth 5 feet from him. He hadn't even seen the guard move.

He stood up, and turned to face the youth, "Impressive, I wasn't expecting you to have any skill, and that was obviously my mistake." In a flash Trevor was pulling his blade from the ground, "a mistake I won't repeat." And then before anyone else could even blink, Trevor brought the flat of his blade down upon the guard's helmet.

The youth slumped to the ground stunned. Trevor motioned, and his troupe made a break for the gateway.

Pether recovered his feet just in time to see the trychtari follow his companions into the border. Without even thinking he charged in after.

Behind him he never saw the carapacians emerge from the tower and resume their guard duties, this time facing the guard, readying against the night daemons they knew would soon be coming.

Melinda found herself alone in the border, she had closed her eyes upon entering, but that hardly seemed to matter. She could see herself walking, still with her eyes closed. She could see her beating heart, watch it skip a beat. See her stomach churning. She lengthened her stride and saw her lungs fill to capacity. In, out, in, out, in - what was that? Melinda's step faultered as new images began to appear before her. Her father, her mother, her sister. Trevor. Every one of the figures held her close, coddled her, carried her to the next figure, and handed her off. Trevor tried to put her down but she would have none of it. Melinda shook her head. That's not true; I don't depend on others for everything. A gust of wind came up and Melinda found her forward movement slowed. Grimly, she pushed onward as faces began swirling around her.

Nearby, someone screamed.

Jorgran panted and watched as another child fell before him. His own face leared at him with an expression of glee. Jorgran turned away as the scene repeated itself over and over. No matter how he turned the children died. I don't enjoy others' pain! I'm not a killer! My measures are expedient. I only do what is necessary for my survival. He stumbled as a fierce blast of air knocked against him.

F'loro walked calmly through the storm as death and decay beat against him. He was prepared. He knew exactly what kind of monster he was. Not a day went by that he didn't yearn for the power he had given up. He saw lust, greed, and a thirst for power twist his features. Saddened, he spread his arms wide to embrace it and halted as he noticed something more.

Shera saw herself as a child, listening to her father taunt her. Tell her she was worthless, felt the worthlessness creep through her. She saw him again coming into her room at night, touching her. Then she saw the day she left home, the day she left him lying in his corn field with a bullet in his back. Felt the exultant smile which had spread through her then. She held a gun still in her hands, and now the image of the gun prevented her from seeing herself. No, she thought, I'm not like that, I don't hide myself behind a gun. And a rush of air blew her back a step, she struggled to go on.

Gan moved into the border slowly, testing it with all his senses. It had a texture to it, and the images around him were vivid, he could smell the roast rabbit that he had caught on his first hunt, he still hadn't found anything as good as the first. And suddenly, it was as if he was back on that day, running swiftly through the forest, chasing the rabbit, coming to the glade where the animal paused, and looked at him with intelligence. And then his arrow flies. Now he is eating the hot meat, and he pauses smelling something on the air. Another rabbit, looking as if to approch the fire. As it comes forward it changes into a young woman, crying. "Please, kill me too." She reaches outstretched arms towards him. He backpeddles in horror from the changeling. The woman/rabbit continues to plea but he stumbles to his feet and runs blindly from his campsite. Not true, it didn't happen, didn't happen, not true.

Renu saw the figure move near and smiled as his wife's features became clear. He saw her as she had appeared on their wedding day. He looked up into her eyes, in her wedding shoes she'd been almost 3 feet in height. Then she was gone, and he was standing again, weeping over her grave as their village burned around him, he knelt down and placed a single flower on the grave before he turned and fled the burning wreckage of his once normal life. Still running, still fleeing. But I'm not. I'm searching, questing, adventuring - whatever you want to call it. Not running. What happened that day is long in the past and I have left it there. Renu struggled as his short body was buffeted by the rising wind.

Deal walked easily through the windstorm. She watched her family die, a scene that haunted her dreams every night. She saw herself fleeing Ranchut, it seemed she had been fleeing him her whole life. She watched her pride swell up and threaten to trip her in her flight, as it almost had with the trychtari and his friends. But all this she already knew, she had no illusions about herself.

Pether didn't pause in his headlong charge after the fugitives. It seemed he had run for hours when he finally paused to take stock. He could see no sign of the unlikely group. Instead he was faced by a strange image; himself but without armor, shield, and weapon. And so young. So very young. Forgetting his initial reasons for coming to this place, Pether sat down and studied the figure. Is this me as I once was, am now, or might be? The image was dressed in blue robes with some sort of chain about his neck. Pethyr moved closer. On the end of the chain hung a symbol...of Benitor? Of Peace? Amazing. Pethyr looked down at himself and realized the image was more real than he was. He was no warrior and never had been. Pethyr shook his head and continued forward.

"I'm here; tell me of Arapi."

"And here I'd always thought you a suave gentalman. No good evening? Nice to see you? Gee you look nice?"

Ranchut ran a critical eye over General Noshi. Even in chain mail she cut an astonishing figure. He smiled ruefully. "Forgive me, my eagerness overcame me. You do indeed look ravishing and that food smells most wonderful."

The general moved from the doorway and envited the assassin to enter. Pointing at a food laden table she said, "Sit." Ranchut moved obediantly to the table but rather than sit he pulled out a chair and motioned Noshi over. She laughed, "Ah, you are indeed a gentleman, sir. I hope you will not take advantage of an inocent girl like myself."

Ranchut snorted as he moved to his chair. "There is nothing innocent about you, my dear general. I consider you to be a most dangerous individual."

"How you flatter me."

"Now, tell me of Arapi."

Noshi waved her hands. "He is exactly what I said earlier; a crazy old man that lived long ago. I think the dragon is leading you on."

"Nevertheless, I do like to be well informed. Tell me of this insane prophet."

Sighing, Noshi began picking at her food. "Even in his own time, people thought him a charlatan. He was said to speak the languages of all beings, and his ramblings came out in a pidgin of them all. But they thought him a charlatan because, although he rambled like a madman, it is said that his eyes never showed even a hint of insanity."

"Hmm. Perhaps he should have gouged out his eyes. I find that people are more inclined to believe prophetic visions if the one giving them is blind." Ranchut moved his fork absently around his plate. "What of his writings?"

Noshi sighed. "A great portion of the madman's prophesies are untranslatable; no one knows the languages they are written in. Or even if they are true languages at all. The other half are chaotic ramblings where one sentence has little to do with the ones before or after."

"Is there at least a common thread? Something about a child perhaps? Or a dagger? Anything?"

An expression of suprise ran quickly across the general's face. She remained silent for a long time, staring at her meal. When finally she spoke, it was in a deadly soft voice. "Rays, tell me truly, why this sudden interest in Arapi? What have you heard?"

"Just what the dragon told me." Ranchut leaned forward and searched the generals face. "What is it?"

Noshi put her fork down slowly and pushed her plate away from her. Wiping her mouth on a napkin she said, "There is a very ancient sect that believes in the legitamacy of Arapi. They are few and widely scattered and said to be almost as insane as the prophet himself." She shoved her chair back and stood. "I believe you should talk to them. I will say no more."

Ranchut looked at her, "But my dear, you promised me access to your library."

Noshi looke at him, "Yes, I did." She clapped her hands and a servant appeared carrying three large volumes, "Here, the collected works of Arapi. Now if you don't mind I fell rather tired and want to retire for the evening."

Ranchut stood, bowed, and left with the books without saying a word.

Trevor stood on a ledge, surveying the battle in the valley below. He watched trychtari soldiers battling for their lives and loosing. Clenching his fist, he walked away. No, that wasn't right; he ran. Ran from the blood, the death screams, the smell. Ran and ran and was still running. Except...not now. He wasn't running now. He was...here. Where was here?

The trychtari shook his head and ststudied his surroundings; the terrain was nothing like anything he had ever seen before. Large oaks mingled with cacti and some type of broadleaf greenery all beneath a red sun.

"Strange, isn't it?"

Trevor spun, reching for his weapon. He relaxed his grip with a sheepish grin when he found Melinda behind him. Except it wasn't Melinda as she had been - something carefree had been removed. She seemed harder somehow.

"Took you long enough. The rest of us got out hours ago." Jorgran's voice rang out. Though the words were familiar enough, the tone behind them seemed flat. Trevor studied the man carefully and saw a haunted look in his eyes.

Rather than answer to that look, Trevor turned to the others. Renu and Gan both had a fatalistic air about them that they had not possessed before. Shera seemed smaller, less brazen. The only three who did not seem tramatized by the journey were Deal, F'loro, and the youthful guard who had challenged them at the gate.

Deal seemed the same as always; brash and confidant. The stranger wore a small half smile that radiated peace and contentment. F'loro seemed happier and more relaxed than Trevor had ever seen in the long years he had known the man.

"Most of us are tired, I'd like to make camp here and be rested before we head any further," said Trevor.

The young guard shook his head. "That would not be wise. Come darkness, this land shall be swarming with night daemons." He paused for a moment and tilted his head in thought. "If I remember correctly there should be a settlement of outlanders not too far from here."

Jorgran swung around to face Pether. "What do mean by following us? Go back your wall, child. We don't have the time to babysit you."

Deal's eyes flashed. "Will you please shut up you cretin!" She idly gestured at him and knocked him to the ground, "and that is for planning my death 328 times in the last two days."

Renu shook himself from his lethargy and scowled at Jorgran, Deal, Pether, and the world in general. "I don't know why I bothered to come. What does this prove? So we passed the wall. Now what? What was the point?"

Pether's face bent into a grim smile. "I don't know what you intended but I can tell you what you have done. You have begun the age of the Raven, when the old ways shall be unmade."

Trevor grunted. "Good. Don't much like the way things are now." He clambered to his feet and shot a glance at Pether. "What are your intentions?"

The guard shrugged. "I was never meant to be a warrior. My position on that wall was destined." He gestured around. "I am a part of you now." He paused and bit his lip in thought before continuing. "And I don't think you understand the magnitude of what you've unleashed. The border no longer holds power over the night daemons."

Jorgran snorted. "Stories told by parents to frighten their children. I don't buy it. And I don't buy this 'new age' business either."

Pether looked at Jorgran, "Not just stories I'm afraid. In the time before there was man the world was filled with night daemons, they terrorized all the creatures who lived, killing and destroying at the slightest whim. But the sidhe and the great dragons invoked a being of great power from some nether realm, and they made a pact. That power erected the border, and so long as no being from our side crossed, it would keep the night daemons from crossing."

Jorgran snorted again, "Yeah and my mother's a trychtari. How come those giant bugs just let us waltz on through? If we were going to bring about the destruction of the world, you'd think they'd have taken a more active interest in us."

"As I said earlier, this has been destined." Pether sighed and climbed to his feet. "I don't claim to know why. Shall we continue on? I do not recomend staying out in the open during the nights here."

"Only because I want to sleep in a warm, soft bed. Not because I'm afraid of some old wives' tale."

The trychtari turned to Pether, "Very well, where is this settlement, and how do you even know it's still there if no man has ever crossed the border before?"

Pether smiled, "I didn't spend my whole life with the carapacians and learn nothing. Trust me, its there."

Jorgran scowled as they began the trek to the settlement. And if his careful attention to the encroaching shadows was sharper than normal, his friends remained silent.