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Elder Ytrib said. “You will need help. If we were sending you off to die, we would send you alone. But you dying will not solve our problems, but only exacerbate them. As we mentioned before, the worst thing possible would be for the Sorceress-Queen to take the Orb you already have. So, we must do whatever we can to prevent that.”

“Elder,” Fergus said, nervously. “What are you suggesting?”

Elder Ytrib leveled his gaze at the captain, his bushy eyebrows rising. “You know exactly what I’m suggesting. I called you and Cleon here not only because you know the truth about the Orb. I’ve called you because the both of you will be helping Lucian find the Orb of Psionics.”

15

Fergus’s expression became grim, while Cleon’s jaw hung open. Even Lucian couldn’t help but stare at the Elders in disbelief.

“Wherever Lucian goes, the Sorceress-Queen will follow,” Elder Ytrib explained. “With the Sorceress-Queen’s men in the Riftlands, and possibly the Zephyr too, we need our most powerful Radiant to go with him. That Radiant is you, Captain Fergus Madigan.”

At these words, Fergus nodded, though his eyes still seemed shocked. “Of course, I will do whatever you ask of me, Elder Ytrib. But if you send me away, I won’t be able to defend the village.”

“Kiro will be lost if Lucian fails,” Elder Ytrib said. “And the Queen will eventually be drawn here if he were to stay. Lucian and the Orb he carries are our salvation, along with the Orb of Psionics. We must believe that it’s there and can be found.”

From Cleon’s pale face, it looked as if he might heave at any minute. Lucian felt much the same.

“If that’s true, then I will take every guard in the village,” Fergus decided. “Whatever gives us the greatest chance of success and keeps the Queen’s men away from here.”

“On the contrary,” Elder Gia said, softly. “There can be no more than four of you. The last thing we want is to attract attention, and the more people who go, the more likely it draws the Sorceress-Queen’s eyes.”

“Why can’t Lucian ward himself?” Fergus asked.

“You know the answer to that,” Elder Gia said. “He is young in the ways of magic, despite the power of the Orb of Binding. You will teach him not only to ward himself, but to stream magic. You are well-versed, even in the Aspects that are not your strengths. There is no better guardian to appoint to Lucian.”

Guardian? Lucian found the word distasteful. It made it sound as if Fergus were adopting him.

“They shouldn’t have to come if they don’t want to,” Lucian said. “I can find my own way.”

“Fool,” Fergus said. “This isn’t about any of us, or what we want. The fate of Psyche is at stake, and if your story is to be believed, the fate of humanity itself. Everything depends on finding the Orb and defeating the Sorceress-Queen before she finds you.”

Slowly, everyone’s gaze shifted to Cleon, who groaned.

“Is he okay?” Elder Sina asked.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Elder Erymmo said.

“Watchman Cleon?” Elder Ytrib asked.

Cleon only groaned louder.

“Why is he being forced to go, anyway?” Lucian asked. “I understand Fergus, with his wards and all. But why Cleon?”

“Cleon must go for three reasons,” Elder Ytrib said, holding up a finger. “One, he knows about the Orb of Binding.” He held up another finger. “Two, Cleon is an accomplished Thermalist, and his strongest Aspects complement Fergus’s weaknesses, meaning they can ward against almost anything.” Ytrib held up a third finger. “And last of all, your path will take you through Dara and the Pass of Madness, the only way into the Burning Sands. Cleon has lived much of his life in Dara and will know how to navigate the streets.”

At this, Cleon actually did heave, but nothing came out but water.

“Get a hold of yourself, man!” Fergus said. “Anyone this lily-livered will run at the first sign of trouble!”

“He didn’t run in the Greenrift,” Lucian said.

“Not Dara,” Cleon said. “I’m not ready for that.”

“You’re going back, whether you’re ready or not,” Fergus said. “The Elders have spoken.”

“This isn’t my fight. My life is here now. I have a girlfriend. I’m . . . starting to put the past behind. And now, you would make me face it again?”

The past? What in the Worlds was he talking about? Cleon had run from something in Dara, that much was clear. Lucian couldn’t help but be curious.

“Our time spent in Dara will be minimal,” Fergus said. “We have one mission and one mission only: to find the Orb of Psionics and use it to end the Sorceress-Queen’s reign of terror. Dara will be one of the most dangerous parts of the journey, but with you, our chances of success are all the greater.”

Cleon shook his head. “I’m going to be recognized. I was a Mage-Knight. People know me there, even if it has been five years.”

“So, you won’t go?” Lucian asked.

He heaved a sigh. “Seems I have no choice, do I? If I refuse, I’ll be exiled for my troubles, or at least reviled.”

“Why are you being so difficult?” Fergus asked.

“Difficult? You realize we’re going to die? And probably long before we reach Dara and the Golden Vale!”

“If that is our fate, then that is our fate,” Fergus said. “We are the only ones who can find the Orb of Psionics. We are the Riftlands’ only hope. The Worlds’ only hope!”

“That’s rotting madness,” Cleon said. “Even if we somehow made it to Dara and through the Pass of Madness, we’d still have two thousand kilometers more just to get to the Burning Sands, if not more. It’s so hot there it’ll melt the skin off your very bones and there isn’t a drop of water to drink. Add to that dust storms, moonquakes, and constant lava flows from Cupid’s gravity, and you’re only guaranteeing what is already a foregone conclusion. Our deaths.”

“That is our path,” Fergus said, easily. Lucian had to wonder if he was faking that confidence. “Either

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