The Return

By Ashley Abbiss

The mission to Barana has been successful. The ‎High Priest of Baranitus and his son Wordoff are both ‎dead, and the second set of twins has been rescued ‎from certain death. ‎
Now comes the task of getting back through ‎Barana and then across the border into their own ‎country. But it isn’t starting out well. ‎
Prand, Zelta, Tif and Corol, the male member of ‎the other twins, have made it out of the city. But ‎while they’re waiting for Tren and Corol’s sister, ‎Adamna, to join them, whoever is now in charge in ‎the city sends dragons into the air and soldiers out of ‎the city to search for the assassins. The others are ‎forced to abandon the two women and flee. ‎
Will Tren and Adamna be able to survive on their ‎own in the city until they can get out and rejoin the ‎others? ‎
And even if they do and they all manage to ‎escape Barana and make it back to their own country, ‎what then for Prand and his team? Will they return as ‎heroes, or will they be arrested as soon as they show ‎their faces? And what of Zelta’s dire predictions ‎about Prand’s probable fate if that happens?‎
Their victory feels like something of an anti-climax as the team struggles towards an uncertain and ‎daunting future.‎
The Return is the fourth and final novel in The ‎Power of Two series. ‎

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ashley Abbiss
• Release date: Nov 6, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005265892

Ashley Abbiss

Hello there. I’m Ashley Abbiss. ‎I live and write in beautiful New Zealand, where I live with one large dog, who looks nothing ‎like Friend from my Daughters of Destiny books. She is, however, almost as intelligent and definitely as ‎opinionated, and if she can’t quite speak in the way Friend does to Niari, that doesn’t really ‎hold her back much!‎I write fantasy, mostly of the epic variety. Let me say right up front that if you’re looking for a quick read, you’re in the wrong place. But if you like a substantial, ‎satisfying story that you can really get your teeth into, stick with me. I may have something ‎you’ll enjoy. There’s no graphic sex in my books. If that’s what you want, you’ll have to look ‎elsewhere. There is violence, and there is swearing, though mostly of the ‘s/he swore’ variety, ‎nothing overly graphic or offensive. I also write about strong, independent female characters, ‎so if your taste runs to something more macho, or something more frilly and helpless, this may ‎not be the place for you. ‎I’ve always loved wandering in different worlds, be they fantasy or science fiction, although ‎lately I tend to prefer fantasy. The only proviso is that they have to be believable worlds, ‎worlds that feel real, that have depth and scope – and they must, absolutely must be fun to ‎visit. I read for escape and entertainment, and I don’t really want to escape from this world ‎into one even grimmer. Trouble, tension, and danger I can deal with, what sort of story would ‎there be without them? Where would Pern be without Thread, Frodo without Sauron, Harry ‎Potter without Voldemort? But there has to be hope, and there has to be a light touch. Happy ‎ever after does have a lot going for it, even if initially it’s only a very small light at the end of ‎a long, dark tunnel. My personal favourites include Tolkien's Lord of the Rings trilogy, Anne ‎McCaffrey’s Pern series, and the fantasies of David Eddings, and lately, they’ve been joined ‎by J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter and a few others. Of those, David Eddings was probably my ‎greatest inspiration.‎I began to wonder if I could create my own world, one just as believable and multi-layered as ‎theirs. Could I create a world with its own history, geography, social structure, deities, and all ‎the rest? One that hung together? That a reader could believe in? It became a challenge, one I ‎really wanted to see if I could meet. So I dusted off my writing skills, learned a few more, ‎cranked up the imagination, and got busy. I’d always been good at creative writing, but ‎though I’d made a few attempts to write after I left school, none of them came to anything. ‎That was until I started writing fantasy. Suddenly, I knew I’d come home. ‎I quickly discovered that I’m not the sort of writer who can plan a book (or a world!) before I ‎start. I just can’t do it. But I can create characters, and suddenly the characters took on a ‎reality of their own and took over the stories, often to the extent that they actually surprised ‎me. And the stories worked. Their world worked. Sometimes I had to go back and fix the ‎odd contradiction, but mostly it worked and was very natural and organic. Even though my ‎first attempts were pitiful, I knew I’d found where I belong. I persevered, I learned, I wrote. ‎I discovered that the characters are key for me. Once I get them right, they tell their own ‎story. I was away. There were dark days during which my stories became my refuge, my ‎characters my friends. And I kept writing. There were happy times when I didn’t need a ‎refuge, but my characters were still my friends, and they drew me inexorably back. I kept ‎writing. ‎And now, I hope my characters may become your friends too, my worlds ones where you also ‎like to walk; perhaps even your refuge from dark days. Come join me in a world where magic ‎is real and the gods are near, where beasts talk and men and women achieve things they never ‎dreamed they could. But most of all, come and have fun! ‎Happy reading.‎Ash.‎

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

‎We can’t just ride off and leave Tren and Corol’s ‎sister behind, Pa! Tif said, his anguish plain to be ‎heard. You can’t ask us to!‎

He, Prand, Zelta and Corol, the man they’d just ‎rescued from execution, had gathered at the waterfall ‎outside the city of Nocturnus. That was where they’d ‎all agreed to meet at the end of their mission to kill the ‎High Priest and Wordoff, his son, and try to rescue ‎Corol and his sister. ‎

Having made their various ways through the city ‎and then out of the escape tunnel after that operation, ‎the four of them had met up again at the waterfall as ‎planned. But so far, there’d been no sign of Tren or ‎Corol’s sister. That wasn’t particularly surprising, of ‎course. All sorts of things might have delayed them, ‎and they weren’t that late yet.‎

But now, there were so many dragons in the sky ‎in response to the double assassination that they were ‎in danger of colliding as they swirled about in their ‎search patterns, and worse from the fugitives’ ‎perspective at that moment, soldiers were pouring out ‎of the city and spreading out into the surrounding ‎countryside to search for the assassins on foot. ‎

It was rapidly becoming too dangerous to stay ‎where they were. If they didn’t move in the next few ‎minutes, it would be too late. That meant abandoning ‎the two women and hoping they could make their ‎own way out later. Hence Tif’s anguished objection.‎

‎We have no choice, Tif, Prand said now. If we ‎stay here, we’re going to be found, questioned, and ‎probably detained. Then, there’ll be more intensive ‎questioning, and if they bring in a magician, which ‎they probably will because of what’s just happened, ‎it’ll be a simple matter for him to figure out who we ‎are. Then Corol’s right back where he started and ‎we’re with him, and that isn’t going to help Tren, his ‎sister or us, is it?‎

Tif glared at him, trying to find an argument and ‎failing. He swore at his father.‎

‎I care about Tren just as much as you do, Tif, ‎Prand said tightly. And I’m sure Corol cares as much ‎about his sister. But getting ourselves caught and ‎executed isn’t going to help them, is it? You’ll go on ‎with Zelta. I’m going to try to sneak back and leave a ‎message for Tren. I should be able to make it before ‎the soldiers get that far. He looked at Zelta. Take ‎my horse with you. Head on up the hill and work your ‎way through the woods to the road. You’ll be out of ‎sight of the dragons in the woods and hopefully, ‎above the search area. Wait for me up the road a bit. ‎I’ll be as quick as I can.‎

Zelta nodded and Prand slid down from his horse, ‎handed her the reins, and disappeared into the ‎undergrowth.‎

‎All right, Zelta said crisply. We’re probably in ‎as much danger right now as we ever have been since ‎we left the stronghold. She looked at Tif’s sulky ‎face. "We all knew the dangers when we set out, Tif, ‎Tren as much as any of us. Prand and I were the last ‎to see her, and at that time she and Corol’s sister were ‎hiding under the dais that Wordoff had been using. ‎When we came back from chasing him, they were ‎gone but there was no outcry or disturbance that ‎might mean they’d been caught. ‎

‎"The chances are very good that they got away ‎and simply struck some sort of delay which meant ‎they were just that little bit too far behind us. Tren is a ‎clever and resourceful woman. If anyone can get the ‎two of them out of there, it’s her. They may have to ‎wait a few days until the fuss dies down and the ‎search is scaled back, but Tren’s smart enough to be ‎patient, and she can ask Tarran for help once he’s back ‎in town. ‎

‎Meanwhile, we have to make it to the road ‎without being caught, and that’s going to be a lot ‎harder if we’re not all working together. Letting your ‎emotions rule your head is a weakness of yours, Tif. ‎Don’t let it put us in danger this time.‎

A slow blush began to creep up Tif’s neck. He ‎swore at Zelta.‎

‎Yes, she said calmly. I am. I’m glad you ‎recognise the fact. Now, get moving, soldier, or you’ll ‎find out just how much of one I am. Corol, you’ll ride ‎Prand’s horse. We can move faster that way, and it ‎will look less odd if we encounter anyone.‎

She waited only until Corol had transferred from ‎the back of Tif’s horse to Prand’s before leading out, ‎sending her horse scrambling up the slope at the back ‎of the level area, leaving no opportunity for further ‎argument or discussion since they all had to ‎concentrate on what they were doing as they ‎zigzagged up a rather steep slope, weaving between ‎trees and dense clumps of undergrowth.‎

‎Swear all you want, Tif, but do it silently, if you ‎please, she called back over her shoulder as they ‎reached a gentler slope and could relax a little. ‎‎Dragons have very good hearing, remember?‎

Tif shut his mouth, but he was seething inwardly, ‎mostly, he had to admit, because he knew Zelta was ‎right. Twice now, he’d almost got them caught by ‎letting his feelings run away with him. He’d sworn ‎he’d never let himself do it again. ‎

But damn it, this was his sister they were leaving ‎behind. This was Tren. And he didn’t care what Zelta ‎or his father said, they had no way of knowing ‎whether she was safe and just delayed or had been ‎caught. And if she had been and they’d ridden off ‎and left her to her fate, he knew he would never ‎forgive either himself or them.‎

But he also knew that they were right. Getting ‎caught themselves wouldn’t do a thing to help the two ‎women. They were doing the only thing they could, ‎the only thing that made sense. Yet somehow, that ‎just made it worse. ‎

‎You all right? Corol asked, pulling his horse in ‎next to Tif.‎

‎Not really, Tif admitted.‎

‎Yeah, I know how you feel, Corol said glumly. ‎‎I hope your sister is as good as that lady says because ‎Adamna won’t be much help.‎

‎Why not? Tif asked, blinking. Is she hurt or ‎something?‎

‎No, Adamna – well, it’s kind of like she was ‎born into the wrong family. She just isn’t cut out to be ‎a soldier. She barely squeaked through basic training, ‎and she tends to be a bit of a wuss if the truth be ‎told.‎

‎What? Tif said. But, I mean, she came here ‎with you, didn’t she?‎

‎Well, yeah, but only because she had to. Because ‎of being one of the twins.‎

‎You aren’t the twins, Tif said without thinking. ‎

‎Of course we are, Corol said. The High ‎Command told us we were, and they should know. ‎They have all those experts who spend their time ‎studying prophecy to advise them. They said the ‎prophecy showed we’re the ones.‎

‎Oh, yeah? Then how come we were the ones to ‎kill the High Priest and Wordoff? Tif said hotly, his ‎anxiety for Tren finding relief in argument. All you ‎managed to do was get yourselves caught before you ‎even got across the border.‎

‎We’re supposed to be sneaking, gentlemen, ‎Zelta said acidly. Do you think you could possibly ‎manage to act like warriors rather than spoiled ‎children at least until we get to safety?‎

Now, that was definitely insulting! The two men ‎forgot their animosity to glare at Zelta’s back. ‎

Zelta grinned, being careful to keep it strictly to ‎herself. It worked every time. Give people a common ‎enemy and they suddenly became united. They could ‎glare all they wanted. At least they were being quiet ‎now and appeared to be on task. With just a little luck, ‎she might even be able to get them out of this.‎

‎Oh, she said. I forgot, Corol. If you hear a ‎creaking sound, that’ll mean a dragon is about to fly ‎over us. Tif can tell you what to listen for. If you hear ‎that, get down at once and take your horse’s bridle. ‎He’ll panic when he smells the dragon, and you’ll ‎need to control him.‎

‎They come that close? Corol asked in horror.‎

‎They fly above the height of the trees, but ‎they’re still close enough for your horse to know about ‎it, Zelta said. Try not to move too much and try to ‎stop your horse from moving more than necessary, ‎too. We should be concealed by the forest canopy, but ‎dragons have very good eyesight and hearing, so ‎don’t count on it.‎

‎Yes, Ma’am, Corol said, sounding rather ‎shaken. Apparently, getting up close and personal ‎with a dragon wasn’t a prospect that appealed to him. ‎At all.‎

Zelta didn’t bother trying to reassure him. There ‎wasn’t much she could say about dragons that was ‎reassuring, for a start, and besides, the more scared he ‎was, the more careful he would be. ‎

They reached the top of the hill and the ground ‎levelled off.‎

‎Zelta! Tif hissed, jerking his head towards the ‎slope lower down.‎

There was nothing to be seen down there, but they ‎could all clearly hear the sound of men’s voices and ‎the tramp of feet on the forest litter.‎

‎Back away from the edge, Zelta ordered tersely. ‎‎Dismount and lead your horse. Walk, do not try to ‎hurry. And do your best to not rattle your harness.‎

They quickly dismounted and moved straight out ‎from the edge, the aim to put as much vegetation ‎between them and the coming soldiers as they could ‎as quickly as possible. By holding their horse by the ‎bridle and leaving the reins alone, they managed to ‎virtually eliminate any rattling. ‎

Now, all they had to do was pray that the horses ‎moved smoothly and didn’t stamp or try to toss their ‎heads. They were into the first of the cover, almost to ‎safety, when they heard that telltale creaking above ‎them and slightly to their right.‎

‎Dragon! Zelta hissed. Hold your horse!‎

They stopped and waited, keeping a tight hold on ‎their horses as they listened to the creak of the ‎dragon’s wings draw ever closer, tossing the branches ‎above them in the wind of its passing. And then, right ‎above them, there sounded that cry like all the lost ‎souls in all the world. ‎

If it was spine-chilling for the humans, it was pure ‎panic for the horses. The beasts went mad, rearing and ‎bucking. Tif’s horse let out a terrified scream before ‎he realised what was happening. There was nothing he ‎could do except press his horse’s muzzle into his ‎shoulder and pray that the sound had been lost in the ‎scream of the dragon.‎

It could only have been a few moments, but it felt ‎like forever before the dragon moved on and the ‎creaking ceased. Tif’s horse quieted, although he ‎could feel it still trembling. He looked around. Corol, ‎his face chalk-white, was picking himself up, still ‎clinging to his reins with one hand while the other ‎rubbed a bruised knee. ‎

Zelta hadn’t fared so well. Her horse had bolted, ‎but not before it had dragged her into a tree. She was ‎half-slumped against it, looking as though she needed ‎its help to stay upright. Her eyes looked glazed, and a ‎huge egg on her forehead was bleeding freely, the ‎blood only avoiding her eyes because her head was ‎tilted.‎

‎Oh, no! Zelta, are you all right? Tif asked, ‎hurrying forward. Stupid question. Quite obviously, ‎she wasn’t all right, but what else was he supposed to ‎say?‎

‎I’ll go see what those soldiers are doing, Corol ‎said.‎

‎Be careful, Tif said absently. Give me your ‎horse.‎

Corol nodded and moved off while Tif pulled out ‎a handkerchief. Here, he said. You can at least stop ‎it running into your eyes.‎

‎Thanks, Zelta said, gingerly staunching the ‎blood.‎

‎Are you hurt anywhere else? Tif asked.‎

‎I don’t think so. I have painkillers, but they’re on ‎my horse. Do you know what happened to him?‎

‎I’ll go see if I can find him, Tif said. Will you ‎be all right alone?‎

‎I’m not going to pass out or anything, Zelta ‎said. Give me the other horses and I’ll take them into ‎deeper cover.‎

‎Over there looks good, Tif said. Looks like a ‎clump of nice, thick undergrowth. Keep an eye out for ‎Corol. I won’t be long. Tren’s and Tarran’s horses ‎didn’t go far when that dragon scared them back in ‎Nocturnus. They stopped as soon as the dragon was ‎gone.‎

He handed over the reins of the other two horses ‎and walked off, his eyes on the ground, searching for ‎an indication of which way the horse had run. He ‎looked back to watch Zelta head for the dense cover. ‎She didn’t look all that steady on her feet to him. She ‎must have taken a heck of a whack to the head. She ‎probably had a concussion.‎

He sighed and turned back to his task. There ‎wasn’t much that could be done about it right now. ‎The situation wasn’t ideal, but he and Corol would ‎just have to step up and do what was necessary. He ‎just prayed that those soldiers hadn’t heard all the ‎commotion and decided to come up there to ‎investigate. That would be the end of everything.‎

CHAPTER TWO

Tren led the way towards the shed and its hidden ‎tunnel, breaking the enchantments as she went, and ‎within just a few minutes, she and Adamna were ‎walking down the ramp into the tunnel, leading the ‎horse. Tren closed the tunnel again and created light. ‎

‎Welcome home, she said ironically as they ‎looked around them. We’ll be safe here for as long as ‎it takes. I just wish we knew whether Pa and the ‎others made it, too.‎

‎Yes, Adamna said quietly. Then, she gave a ‎little shriek of fright. What’s that? she asked as a ‎large blue bubble floated into the light.‎

‎It’s a membrane, Tren said. I wonder if Pa left ‎it. ‎

The membrane was bobbing up and down in front ‎of her. She reached out and touched it and it ‎dissolved, dropping some sheets of paper onto the ‎floor.‎

She dived for one that looked like a note.‎

‎"Tren," she read. "I’ve left this keyed to you in the hope that you’re coming along behind us. We’re all safe, Corol too, but we daren’t wait at the waterfall as arranged because there are troops beginning a search all through the woods. Do not go out of the tunnel until they call off the search. It’s far too dangerous. You’ll have to wait there for as long as it takes.

"Meanwhile, we’ll move on. I’ve included a map. We’ll wait for a couple of days at each of the places marked on there, but if you don’t manage to catch up with us before you reach the border, head for the thermal area. That’s the easiest and safest way across. You’ll find that marked on the map, too. The third piece of paper will guide you through it. We’ll wait for you at the campsite in the middle.

"Take care, be safe.

"Pa."

Tears began to stream down Adamna’s face as ‎Tren read the letter aloud. Tren knew kind of how she ‎felt. It was hard not to feel abandoned, even though ‎she understood why the others couldn’t wait. ‎Animosity forgotten, she moved forward without ‎even thinking about it to hug the other woman, feeling ‎the tears prick at her own eyes, too.‎

‎Hey, look at it this way, she said when they ‎finally broke apart again. We’re all safe. We all got ‎away, and what’s more, we achieved the mission. ‎Wordoff and the High Priest are dead. So what if we ‎have to camp down here for a week before we can go ‎home? We still win.‎

‎Are you sure we’re safe here? Adamna asked ‎anxiously.‎

Tren couldn’t really blame Adamna for wanting to ‎be reassured. The woman had been through hell. She ‎had a right to feel nervous.‎

‎Absolutely, Tren said. For a start, we’re ‎underground, in a tunnel that only our own people ‎know about. And even if a Baraniti came into the ‎shed and said ‘Aranisul is Lord’, which is highly ‎unlikely in itself, the tunnel wouldn’t open for them ‎because you have to be introduced to it before the ‎magic will recognise you. Also, did you feel at one ‎point like turning around and leaving, as though you ‎really didn’t want to come anywhere near the shed?‎

‎Yes, now that you mention it, I did, Adamna ‎said. ‎

‎That’s an aversion spell designed to keep people ‎away. So, we have several layers of protection here. ‎We’re probably safer here than we would be anywhere ‎else in the city. Hell, we’re probably safer than we’ll ‎be when we leave here.‎

Adamna nodded as fresh tears streamed down her ‎face. She made rather ineffectual efforts to wipe them ‎away on her sleeve, but she couldn’t seem to stop ‎crying. With a sigh, Tren pulled out a handkerchief ‎and handed it over.‎

‎Thank you, Adamna said. I’m sorry. I know ‎you think I’m weak and stupid, and I probably am. ‎But I’ve never been so scared in my entire life as I ‎have been these last weeks. It’s a bit hard to believe ‎I’m actually safe and not tortured to death. She sat ‎down against the wall, clutching the now-wet ‎handkerchief and still crying. I’m a procurement ‎clerk, she wailed. I’m not cut out to be a warrior! I ‎barely scraped through basic training.‎

‎You’re a procurement clerk? Tren asked, ‎laughter bubbling up before she could control it. ‎Procurement clerks were considered the lowest of the ‎low among the apprentices. That was the job, ‎according to apprentice lore, where total failures ‎ended up, those who just squeaked through basic ‎training by the skin of their teeth. At least I’m not a ‎procurement clerk was a common saying.‎

‎It’s an important job, Adamna said, her chin ‎coming up. An army can’t fight without food and ‎weapons and uniforms. Without us, all those warrior ‎types would be stuck.‎

‎Yes, of course they would, Tren said. But you ‎must have been given some training before being sent ‎on this mission, surely.‎

‎They were training us, Adamna acknowledged. ‎‎But we hadn’t got very far into it when they told us ‎we had to go right then.‎

‎Why? Tren asked.‎

‎They said the other twins had already left, and if ‎we didn’t beat them to it, they’d ruin everything, ‎Adamna said. ‎

Tren closed her eyes briefly. She hoped that meant ‎the High Command of Stronghold Five really believed ‎that and not that Adamna and her brother had just ‎been pawns in their nasty political games.‎

‎They said we’d be fine, that they were sending ‎an escort with us, and they’d look after us, Adamna ‎said. They said I wouldn’t even have to do anything, ‎that my brother could take care of it. Corol’s a Sword ‎of Aranisul. He’s really good. They said I just had to ‎be there to fulfil the prophecy.‎

‎It didn’t quite work out for you though, did it? ‎Tren said.‎

‎We didn’t even make it across the border, ‎Adamna sobbed. They were waiting for us. Our ‎escort were all killed and Corol and I were captured as ‎soon as we tried to cross. She looked up at Tren. ‎‎They told us we were the ones, and you were ‎impostors who just wanted the glory for themselves, ‎but now I don’t know what to believe.‎

‎Well, Tif and I were born on the same day that ‎Wordoff was, Tren said. We know that for a fact ‎because Pa was actually in Nocturnus at the time and ‎saw the High Priest announce the birth of his son, and ‎when he got home, he found that we’d been born that ‎same day.‎

‎We were born ten months before, Adamna said. ‎‎But they said that was close enough. And the brother ‎of one of our ancestors was a hero of the last war.‎

‎Pa stopped war from breaking out fifteen years ‎ago, Tren said. He sneaked into the temple ‎compound here in Nocturnus and stole the battle plans ‎that the Baraniti were drawing up, and that caused ‎them to give up on invading us. I take it your mother’s ‎been gone for half your lives?‎

‎Yeah, she died in that pestilence that swept ‎through the country about ten years ago, Adamna ‎said.‎

‎So did ours. What about the bit about how the ‎twins ‘will not follow the usual path taken by those of ‎Aranisul before they come into their power, but when ‎they do, they will outstrip their peers’? Tren asked.‎

‎Well, I don’t outstrip anyone, Adamna said. I ‎mean, I’m good at what I do, but I’m just not cut out ‎to be part of an army. I’m not a warrior. I’m not even ‎terribly athletic. I squeaked through basic training on ‎my academic marks. Corol’s the talented one. Like I ‎told you, he’s a Sword of Aranisul, and you don’t get ‎to join them unless you’re really good.‎

‎And didn’t that ring any alarm bells? Tren ‎asked.‎

Adamna shrugged. They told me that it didn’t ‎matter, that Corol’s talent would be enough. And as ‎for that other bit, I’ve never heard that before. I don’t ‎even know what it means.‎

Tren felt a stab of searing anger. I wish the High ‎Command of Stronghold Five was here right now, ‎she ground out. ‎

‎Why? Adamna asked in confusion.‎

‎Because I’d like to give them a piece of my ‎mind, that’s why! Tren said furiously. How they ‎could!‎

‎I don’t understand, Adamna said in a small ‎voice. ‎

Tren’s outburst seemed to have scared her a bit. ‎Tren took a deep breath, trying to calm both her anger ‎and her frustration before speaking again. ‎

‎Look, she said. You were born ten months ‎before the high priest’s son. We were born the same ‎day. You have a distant ancestor and not even a direct ‎one, that might qualify you. We have our own father. ‎Your mother died, yes, but only one of you outstrips ‎your peers, and no one seems to have even bothered ‎about the rest of the requirements. Does that sound to ‎you as though you’re the children of the prophecy?‎

‎Well, no, it doesn’t, Adamna said. I never ‎really thought it did, but the people we talked to from ‎the High Command told us we were the twins, and ‎they should know, shouldn’t they?‎

‎Theoretically, yes, Tren said. "But the members ‎of the High Command, and the members of the ‎Cyphers Unit, who deal with the interpretation of ‎prophecy, are human just like the rest of us. I think ‎maybe they got a bit carried away with the whole ‎pride thing. ‎

‎"They wanted the twins to come from Stronghold ‎Five. And then, there’s the whole competition ‎between the Ground and Dragon Forces. Certain ‎people wanted the twins to come from the Ground ‎Force.‎

‎"It was supposed to be about who best fulfilled ‎the prophecy, but all the other stuff got in the way. It ‎became a competition instead, and a whole lot of ‎wishful thinking and ignoring the bits that didn’t fit ‎went on. ‎

‎"That’s bad enough in itself, but then they ‎basically sent you and your brother off like lambs to ‎the slaughter just to satisfy their pride, and that makes ‎my blood boil. It’s cruel and completely inexcusable.‎

‎Actually, I suspect they may have been egged on ‎by some of my father’s enemies from the High ‎Command of Stronghold Three, but that still doesn’t ‎excuse them putting your lives at risk. They’re ‎supposed to be the leaders of your stronghold. And it ‎couldn’t have worked anyway when you think about ‎it. I mean, if you weren’t the children meant in the ‎prophecy, then you couldn’t fulfil it, could you?‎

‎No, we couldn’t, Adamna said, sitting up ‎straighter. We couldn’t have, could we? That makes ‎me feel so much better!‎

‎Does it? Tren asked in surprise. She’d braced ‎herself for arguments and resentment that she was ‎trying to take over from Adamna and her brother or ‎some such.‎

‎Oh, yes! Adamna said, her face shining. ‎‎Because if we weren’t the children in the first place, ‎then we didn’t fail, did we? We can’t have because it ‎wasn’t our job.‎

‎No, you didn’t fail, Tran said. In fact, I think ‎you helped us.‎

‎Did we? How?‎

‎Well, actually, it was by getting caught, Tren ‎said. At least, I think it was. Did you try to cross the ‎border quite a way south of the main crossing?‎

‎I don’t know where the main crossing is, ‎Adamna said. But we did try to cross in the south, ‎yes.‎

‎And which day did you do that? Tren asked. ‎‎Do you remember?‎

‎It’ll be two weeks tomorrow, Adamna said. I ‎know that because I’ve been counting the days since ‎we were captured.‎

‎I thought so. That was the day we crossed the ‎border, and we got across more easily than we ‎expected because all the guards and dragons had ‎moved south, Tren said.‎

To her surprise, Adamna laughed. Well, at least ‎we did something right, she said. The rest of it was ‎a total disaster, but at least one thing went right.‎

Tren couldn’t help laughing too. Adamna sounded ‎much more positive and less wishy-washy suddenly. ‎

Adamna sighed deeply. I’m glad you told me all ‎this, Tren, she said. It makes me feel so much ‎better. She rubbed her face with her hands. "It’s been ‎absolutely ghastly. First, they told us we were the ‎twins of the prophecy. That was hard enough, but it’s ‎like I told you. I’m not a warrior or anything. How ‎was I supposed to kill someone? The very thought was ‎horrifying.‎

‎"Neither of us knew the first thing about Barana, ‎so how were we supposed to sneak through the ‎country? And then, we didn’t even make it across the ‎border. Not only did that mean we were probably ‎going to die, but it also meant we’d failed. ‎

‎And that meant the whole world was doomed. ‎We were going to lose this war and the Baraniti were ‎going to take over the whole world, and it was all our ‎fault. You can’t imagine what that was like to live ‎with. ‎

She smiled as new tears began to snake their way ‎down her cheeks. And now, you tell me that it isn’t ‎like that at all. And it’s just such a relief! And she ‎began to cry in earnest.‎

Tren patted her on the shoulder. Get it all out, ‎she advised, feeling rather awkward. You’ll feel ‎better afterwards. It was something her mother used ‎to say, she remembered. She used a bit of magic to ‎make the handkerchief clean and dry again. There. ‎You might as well start off fresh, she said. ‎

CHAPTER THREE

Tren left the other woman to cry herself out and ‎crossed to the horse, unloading him and removing his ‎saddle. She’d give him a rubdown presently, but for ‎now, she opened the food pack and began to look for ‎something to eat. She figured Adamna would be ‎hungry once she finished crying. ‎

That sort of thing always seemed to work up an ‎appetite, and the woman was half-starved to begin ‎with. And then, she’d probably want to sleep, which ‎would do her nothing but good. But there was only ‎one bedroll. ‎

After a moment’s thought, Tren doubled ‎everything – bedroll, groundsheet, tent, cloak, food ‎pack, even the saddle and harness, altering them all ‎just enough that they’d be able to tell them apart. ‎They’d need the extra food and equipment to get ‎them back through Barana.‎

And they’d have to find Adamna a horse from ‎somewhere before they left. That was absolutely ‎essential. People travelling two-up on a horse were ‎going to attract attention, especially with the country ‎buzzing like a disturbed beehive after the assassination ‎of Wordoff and his father. ‎

And with Adamna not having the first clue how ‎to pass as a Baraniti and Tren only having what she’d ‎learned so far, attracting attention most definitely ‎wasn’t a desirable scenario. Tren might just get by, but ‎Adamna wouldn’t have a hope. ‎

Unfortunately, a horse was the one thing Tren ‎couldn’t create. She could duplicate her horse, but she ‎couldn’t duplicate the life that animated it. All she ‎would produce was a carcase, and that wouldn’t be ‎much good to anyone.‎

She thought about it, making a mental list of ‎things they might need while she waited for Adamna ‎to finish crying. There actually wasn’t much she ‎couldn’t produce herself or buy in the local markets. ‎In fact, they already had most of it since they’d all ‎been prepared to run. ‎

The only things they really needed were a horse ‎and information. Information was going to be critical. ‎They would have to know for sure that the search for ‎the fugitives had been called off before they dared to ‎leave the city. ‎

They might be able to pick that up from gossip in ‎the marketplaces and around the city, but there was ‎always a question mark over the accuracy of such ‎gossip and Tren wasn’t willing to stake both their lives ‎on hearsay. She reluctantly concluded that she would ‎have to make contact with Tarran again. ‎

They’d gone to a lot of trouble to ensure that ‎Master Merchant Trall, the identity Tarran went by ‎there in the city, had absolutely no connection to ‎anyone involved in the assassinations, but Tren didn’t ‎see any other way. They were going to need help, and ‎Tarran had contacts within the temple compound. ‎

She’d just have to work out how to contact him ‎without compromising his cover, that was all. And ‎actually, she had a few days to do that because, of ‎course, he’d left the city in order to establish his alibi ‎and he wouldn’t be back yet. ‎

Against the opposite wall, Adamna gave a last ‎sniffle and blew her nose and wiped her eyes.‎

‎Feeling better? Tren asked.‎

‎Yeah, sorry for being such a baby.‎

Tren shrugged. You had a lot of stress to get rid ‎of, she said. Are you hungry? I was just about to ‎make something. Crazy to think that so much had ‎happened, and it was only just a little past lunchtime.‎

‎Oh, yes please, I’m starving! Adamna said. ‎

Tren put vegetables and lentils into a pot and flour ‎into a bowl and used magic to create a vegetable soup ‎with fresh bread and butter. Come to think of it, there ‎was something she needed to buy in the markets. She ‎and Zelta hadn’t bothered buying meat because of the ‎problems of keeping it fresh and not knowing just ‎when they’d be leaving. ‎

She’d go buy some tomorrow. Adamna could do ‎with building up a bit, and some good meals would ‎definitely help with that. For now, a good hearty soup ‎and bread would do. She ladled out bowls and ‎handed one to Adamna along with a chunk of bread.‎

While she ate hers, she turned some apples, flour ‎and other ingredients into an apple pie for dessert. Just ‎for the comfort of it, she expended a bit of extra ‎energy to create a jug of cream to go with it. Adamna ‎wolfed down two bowls of soup and half the pie ‎before abruptly yawning.‎

‎Sorry, she said. I’m incredibly tired all of a ‎sudden. I can barely keep my eyes open.‎

‎I created a bedroll and all that for you, Tren ‎said. Why don’t you try to get some sleep? It’s not as ‎though we have anything else to do, after all, and ‎we’re safe here, so you don’t have to worry.‎

‎Thanks, I think I will, Adamna said. Uh, where ‎are we going to, you know, do the necessary?‎

Tren took a deep breath. That was a good ‎question, and it reminded her why it wasn’t going to ‎be a good idea to keep the horse down there with ‎them. But with dragons flying around above, it was ‎going to be a problem. Something else for her to sort ‎out. ‎

‎We’ll go back upstairs and use a corner of the ‎shed for now, and I’ll clean it up using magic, Tren ‎said. I’ll try to figure out something better while ‎you’re sleeping. And while we’re up there, I’d better ‎introduce you to the magic so you can open and close ‎the tunnel yourself. That should work because I’ve ‎already been introduced to it.‎

They trooped back up to the shed and carried out ‎the little ceremony of introducing Adamna to the ‎magic, which appeared to work just fine. Then, Tren ‎went back down and left Adamna to make use of the ‎corner they’d selected as a toilet. She was pleased to ‎see that Adamna had no trouble opening the tunnel to ‎come back down.‎

Adamna settled herself down in her new bedroll ‎and was soon sound asleep. Shortly after that, the ‎horse relieved himself, and even after Tren had used ‎magic to remove the deposit, the tunnel stank of ‎ammonia. She couldn’t even open the tunnel to air it ‎out because it was set to close again after just three ‎minutes. ‎

Tren opened it anyway and created a breeze to ‎force the stale air out. She slumped against the wall, ‎feeling tired and frustrated. They couldn’t go on like ‎this. It would be unpleasant to live this way, and it ‎would exhaust her having to correct things with magic ‎all the time. They needed another solution.‎

The tunnel was becoming a bit claustrophobic, just ‎sitting there watching Adamna sleep. Tren opened it ‎again and climbed the ramp, then on second thought, ‎returned for some money. She might just as well take ‎a walk to the nearby market and get that meat, maybe ‎some eggs and milk as well. ‎

It would be something to do and it would give her ‎an idea of what was happening in the city. It ‎shouldn’t be too dangerous. The market she was ‎thinking of was nowhere near any of the places ‎involved in the assassinations, and people would ‎hardly be expecting one of the assassins to turn up to ‎buy groceries. She created a jug to hold milk, ‎scribbled a note in case Adamna woke up while she ‎was gone, and set out. ‎

‎**********‎

There had been a lot of new experiences since ‎they sneaked out of the stronghold to come on this ‎mission, but that visit to the market had to be one of ‎the most surreal Tren had ever had. ‎

For a start, she was kind of nervous. She’d never ‎had to pass as a Baraniti all on her own before, for one ‎thing. She’d always had at least Tif there for moral ‎support. And she had a split lip and a bruise ‎developing on one cheek where Adamna had kicked ‎her in the face that were going to make her noticeable. ‎She made up a story about an attempted robbery that ‎she could tell if anyone asked.‎

But she needn’t have worried. She’d no sooner hit ‎the market than the stall-keepers were chattering at ‎her, eagerly latching onto a new face that they could ‎gossip to about the events of the day. No one even ‎mentioned her face. They were too eager to impart ‎their own news.‎

Tren heard all about the assassinations. Some ‎seemed shocked and outraged, others appeared to just ‎be enjoying the excitement. More than a few, she ‎noted, even of the shocked and outraged ones, ‎seemed glad to see the back of Wordoff. He appeared ‎to be a highly unpopular figure. She couldn’t imagine ‎why that would be! ‎

The rumour mill was already working overtime, ‎Tren noticed, for while everyone knew that the High ‎Priest and his son were dead and there’d been a riot in ‎Martyrs’ Square, facts seemed to be in short supply. ‎She heard at least four different versions of what had ‎happened, none of them close to the truth.‎

One claimed that a dozen assassins had stormed ‎the temple compound, another that an assassin had ‎sneaked into the wellhouse shrine and cut the High ‎Priest’s throat while he was praying. Well, at least that ‎one had the location right. Another claimed that he’d ‎been shot by an archer on a roof while walking along ‎the road with his escort.‎

There were equally many versions of Wordoff’s ‎demise. The one that amused Tren the most claimed ‎that Wordoff, upon being faced with a sword-‎wielding assassin, had whipped out a sword of his ‎own and engaged in a thrilling battle with his attacker ‎before finally being overcome. ‎

Since she’d personally seen Wordoff hitch up his ‎robes and run like a rabbit at the very sight of Tif, it ‎was all she could do to not fall over laughing at that ‎one. ‎

But anyway, it took her all of five minutes to ‎realise that unless she walked through the market with ‎‎‘assassin’ tattooed on her forehead, she had absolutely ‎nothing to worry about. ‎

Her low-grade Warnish persona raised no ‎eyebrows at all. A few people stared at her injured ‎face, but apart from that, she might have been any ‎other woman shopping for food. ‎

And, quite obviously, no one had the first clue ‎about what had really happened, let alone who the ‎perpetrators were. It gave her confidence a huge ‎boost. She spent the rest of her time in the market ‎thoroughly enjoying herself, uttering the odd, Oh, ‎no! and Really? as required. ‎

Unfortunately, having to stop and hear all about ‎the assassinations at every stall she visited meant that ‎the shopping took three times longer than she’d ‎counted on. She had come away with some useful ‎information as well as the groceries, though. ‎

For one thing, she’d discovered that there was a ‎messenger service in the city, somewhat similar to the ‎one in the stronghold. That neatly solved the problem ‎of sending a message to Tarran. ‎

She’d also learnt that, as expected, the city had ‎been sealed. No one was currently allowed in or out. ‎There was no word on what would happen at the end ‎of the festival. They could hardly keep everyone ‎trapped in the city indefinitely, though. ‎

Likewise, they couldn’t keep citizens, and ‎particularly supplies, from entering the city for very ‎long. They would have to reopen the gates sooner ‎rather than later. ‎

But just when they might decide to call off the ‎search and withdraw the dragon patrols was ‎something else again. And those, of course, were what ‎was holding her and Adamna there. ‎

Tren finally made her escape from the market and ‎turned her steps back towards the south wall. She ‎decided to make a detour since she was out anyway ‎and check the gate on her way back. The people in the ‎market claimed it had been sealed to all traffic. ‎

But then, the people in the market had also said ‎that Wordoff had been killed in a grand duel and his ‎father had had his throat cut. A little confirmation ‎would be nice.‎

It was a bit of a trek from the market out to the ‎gate, especially since she had to carry the groceries as ‎well. She began to regret not bringing her horse. But ‎bringing him, of course, raised problems of its own. ‎

First, there was the problem of where to leave him ‎while she went shopping. But also, riding made her ‎more visible, and visibility wasn’t a desirable ‎characteristic right then.‎

Harden up, Tren, she told herself. You’re getting soft. A bit of a walk isn’t going to kill you.

She came out on the main street to find herself ‎faced with a crowd of disgruntled and angry people, a ‎whole contingent of temple guardsmen and Kaldish ‎trying to keep order, and a city gate that was shut, ‎barred, and sported two dragons, one perched on the ‎city wall on either side of the gate.‎

They were looking down at the crowd with their ‎baleful yellow eyes while their Hovarnash sat astride ‎their necks watching the unfolding scene with disdain. ‎Tren guessed that their presence was the only thing ‎preventing an all-out riot. ‎

The mood of the crowd was fairly ugly, even so. ‎Like people everywhere faced with trouble, they ‎wanted to get away, and they were being told they ‎couldn’t leave. It was going to take a bit to restore ‎order. She turned to see more soldiers marching ‎towards the gate and decided she’d seen enough. ‎

She didn’t need to get caught in the middle of ‎whatever was going to happen next. She hurried down ‎the street, slipped down the first side street she came ‎to that led in the direction she wanted to go, and ‎walked briskly away. ‎

Actually, it occurred to her to wonder if some of ‎those people at the gate were still under the influence ‎of the magic from the packets they’d released in ‎Martyrs’ Square.‎

The spells contained in those packets had made ‎people aggressive and violent. Of course, they had ‎had a time limit set on them, but it was known that ‎some susceptible people could still be influenced by ‎the magic for some time after, the effects tapering off ‎slowly rather than terminating abruptly as they were ‎supposed to. ‎

Take a few of those susceptible people, add a ‎good dose of fear and stress and events at the gate ‎could get very interesting. One thing was for certain: ‎the authorities had a lot more on their plate than a ‎search for her and Adamna, even supposing that they ‎knew who to look for, at least in her own case. ‎

That was good to know. It meant they could show ‎their faces at things like markets and be reasonably ‎confident that they wouldn’t raise any alarms as long ‎as they didn’t do anything to draw the attention of ‎the authorities. ‎

Although first, she’d have to do something about ‎Adamna’s hair and general appearance. Magic would ‎take care of the hair, and hopefully, a few good meals ‎would fill her out a bit and make her look less like a ‎walking skeleton. ‎

Tren guessed that Adamna had never been ‎particularly sturdy or robust, but right now, she looked ‎half-starved, and that was a bit of a giveaway. With ‎that in mind, she began to plan some nutritious meals ‎that would help put some meat back on the woman’s ‎bones as she walked back to the tunnel.‎

CHAPTER FOUR

It took Tif about twenty minutes to find Zelta’s ‎horse. It had run a fair way, but as he had surmised, it ‎had stopped once it believed the threat to be over. He ‎found it quietly grazing in a small clearing. Tif ‎grabbed the reins and hurried back, hoping that he ‎wouldn’t find the place swarming with soldiers. ‎

To Tif’s surprise, Corol and Zelta emerged from ‎hiding to meet him as he returned leading Zelta’s ‎horse, and not only was no one else there, but there ‎was also no longer any sound of the soldiers down at ‎the bottom of the slope, either.‎

‎No, they seemed to think they saw something ‎away in that direction, Corol said when Tif ‎mentioned it. He waved a hand vaguely towards the ‎west. They all went haring off in that direction, all ‎excited.‎

‎It may well have been Prand, Zelta said. ‎

She appeared more awake than when Tif had left ‎her. She’d gone straight to her horse and found her ‎medicine, and she had already crunched a couple of ‎the painkillers. Knowing how fast those magical ‎medicines could work, Tif imagined that they may ‎already be kicking in.‎

‎I hope your dad doesn’t get caught, Tif, Corol ‎said anxiously. ‎

Zelta smiled. Don’t worry about that, Corol, she ‎said. If they did see Prand, it was because he wanted ‎them to. If he saw that dragon, he may have guessed ‎that we’d need the distraction.‎

‎Speaking of which, we’d better be moving on, ‎Tif said. "If Pa managed to divert the soldiers, we’d ‎better not look a gift horse in the mouth. A diversion ‎is only good for so long. You’d better ride, Zelta. You ‎still look a bit wobbly. ‎

‎In fact, we’ll all ride. I think it’s more important ‎right now to put some space between us and this place ‎than it is to be overly cautious, especially since we ‎know the soldiers have gone.‎

‎Is your father really so good that the soldiers ‎would only see him if he wanted them to? Corol ‎asked as they all mounted up. ‎

‎Well, he’s the lord of Clandestine Ops for ‎Stronghold Three, Tif said. "So, yes. The road’s this ‎way. Let’s angle towards it so we’re a bit further ‎along before we come out into the open. It probably ‎isn’t a good idea to emerge too close to where all this ‎commotion happened. ‎

‎"We’ll go at a walk. For one thing, there’s no ‎particular rush since we have to wait for Pa anyway. ‎Also, it’ll make for less noise and less disturbance of ‎the undergrowth. ‎

‎"Besides, I doubt that Zelta’s up to a much faster ‎pace. Magical painkillers are good, but not that good. ‎Still, do you think you can stand a fast walk for a little ‎while, Zelta? Just until we’re well clear of here?"‎

‎I can stand anything I have to, Tif, Zelta said. ‎‎Let’s just get out of here. I can feel as horrible as I ‎like once we’re safely away.‎

Tif barked a laugh. Point taken. On our way. ‎

He led out at the fastest pace the horses could ‎manage and still be walking with a reasonably smooth ‎gait. He’d had a few knocks on the head at various ‎times in his life. He knew how painful any kind of ‎jolting could be, so he took pains to find the easiest ‎route and the most level ground he could. ‎

However, wherever possible, he also tried to keep ‎them in the deepest cover he could find, and juggling ‎the two was quite a challenge. But what had just ‎happened was quite enough of a scare for one day, ‎and he intended to do all he could to ensure there ‎were no more. All he wanted now was to get them all ‎safely out to the road.

Once there, they could become just another band ‎of travellers, perhaps people who’d gone out to one of ‎the outer shrines that morning and were now heading ‎home after being denied entry into the city again. But ‎they could worry about a cover story later. First, they ‎had to get to the