The Nost

Prologue

"He is born," Sarathen said.

"Are you sure?" Braiden asked.

"Somewhere in North America."

"That's inconvenient," he said.

"The dream was clear."

"The Shen Council has been clear as well," he said. "If they capture him, they will use him to reach the Isle of Song and seal the Nost Accords."

"But they don't know I have his journal and totem."

"And if they seal the Accords, we are finished and so are the new humans."

"Quit stating the obvious," she said.

"And I wouldn't be so sure about what the Shen Council does or does not know," Braiden said, offering her a pointed look.

Sarathen glanced at him sideways with her fiery red eyes. "Let's pack up camp, we have a long way to go."

"But we're deep in the forests of Poland and the U.S. is—"

"I know where the U.S. is," she said.

"We have to finish the hunt," he said.

"But he is born." Her hand trembled as she unzipped her coat.

"If you're just having the dream, he is newly reborn. We have time. No one else can sense him like you."

She studied Braiden's almond-shaped eyes, their golden hue reflecting the morning sun. He stared back with a level gaze.

"You're right," she said with a sigh. She turned to the ruined castle in the distance. "But why would a Nostshu be living in this wreck?"

"Maybe he's mad and returned to a place he once knew. This was a major castle, and it's been many things since," he said.

"Like a Nazi stronghold." Sarathen shivered.

"And a Soviet outpost," Braiden said.

"It could be a she," she said.

"What?"

"The Shu we're hunting, it could be a she."

"Of course," he said, nodding.

She shivered again and pulled the smell of pine trees into her lungs to steady herself. "If the stories are true—"

"Then we have to stop him... or her. We hunt them one at a time until there are none."

Sarathen nodded. "One at a time," she said, shifting her gaze to the crumbling parapets. "I don't think we've been here before."

"Maybe, maybe not." He raised a hand, shielding his eyes from the morning sun. "But our first life was long, and the days are a blur. We may have been here with the General if the site is as old as the locals claim it to be."

Sarathen pursed her lips and pulled her soft down coat off, stuffing it into her backpack. Standing in just a dark t-shirt and cargo pants, the cold air made goosebumps stand up on her pale skin. Normally, when they weren't hiking through thick forests, she would be in a loose blouse and leather pants. "Do you ever think about your early days?"

"In the first age?"

"No, I mean in this life. You were born close to here."

Braiden coughed and rubbed his hands together. "It's a long way to Mongolia from here. But you were born just around the corner, on the steppes outside Poland. You still have the porcelain skin of the Russian nomads. That was a long time ago, though, and it doesn't matter now, all we have is this moment."