KARA
Kara stood combing her hair on the second-floor balcony of the Golden Keg tavern, enjoying the last few minutes of quiet before her shift. The early evening was so peaceful; she could watch the ships come in, their hulls lit by phosphorescent bacterial colonies growing among the stalactites on the cavern roof. A horn blew from the quartermaster's tower, echoing like music off the wet stone walls of the cavern. A goods-laden cog broke ranks from the others and rowed toward the dock.
Beyond the harbor, the bacteria grew over parts of the vast dormant-stalagmite citadel—the capital city of the caverns, Stelemia. The glowing city towered over the enormous cavern, a primordial monolith carved into houses, stores, taverns and at the very pinnacle, the Halls of the Priest King. It reflected off the smooth, black surface of Crystal Lake and attracted silver fish from the lightless depths to the surface to bask in its reflected radiance.
Kara had lived her twenty years of life within sight of that spire. Her life, like that of her mother's, her mother's and her mother's beyond count, had been lived in the cold, dark depths of the Caverns of Stelemia—a vast system of caves lit by bacteria and electric sacred lights, built in an age only spoken of in children's tales and ancient, tattered tomes in dusty reliquaries.
In the caverns, life clung to the light, for beyond it, there was only death.
The sacred light across the street flickered once and then died, plunging the street into darkness.
Kara stopped combing her hair and watched the other lights further up the street. If another went out, they would be in trouble.
When the others remained lit, she leaned over the railing to call to the door boy. "Olly, set some torches at the entrance so patrons can find their way inside."
Olly walked out onto the street and looked up at her. "That's the second one to go out this past month and the Order hasn't even fixed the first one."
"They will; have faith," she replied.
He grumbled and went to get some torches.
Berda called to her from inside the tavern, "Kara dear, hurry up. Your shift is about to start."
Kara straightened her bangs. "I'll be right there."
Kara took one last look at the ships, savoring her last breath of fresh air, then went inside. Berda met her at the top of the stairs leading down to the bar. The crone ran her wrinkled hands down Kara's face, then squeezed her breasts and buttocks and nodded in satisfaction. "That new gown fits perfectly." She kissed Kara on the cheek. "You should make a fine penny tonight."
"Yes madam," Kara replied, and looked down at her dyed pink-and-orange gown. It was low-cut and revealing and had cost her two week's wages. Men found Kara beautiful with the dress on or without it.
"Smile girl, you're not some ninny that's yet to lose her maidenhead."
"Sorry madam."
By the time she was halfway down the stairs, Kara had assumed her flirty, boisterous persona and was prepared for a long night entertaining the tavern's patrons. When she entered the noisy taproom she took three flagons of ale from the old barman. "Who ordered them?"
He pointed toward three men-at-arms with yellow mushroom insignias on their vests identifying them as soldiers in service to House Mawborne. They sat around a table, rolling dice.
"Watch yourself out there, girl," the barman said. "There's a funny feeling in the air tonight."
"You said that once before and nothing happened. If I recall, it was a good night all round."
He poured himself a drink. "Just be careful."
She chuckled. "I will."
Kara walked toward the men-at-arms. She'd entertained them before but they'd never done more than fondle her. Like many of their type, they spent too much of their meager incomes on ale and dicing and were often left with barely enough coin to sleep with the ugliest wretch from Blind Fish Wharf. It was Kara's job to keep them happy so they'd spend more on booze.
There was only a smattering of other customers present so early in the evening. The other courtesans, Nyla and Mihiri, were working the floor already, their gaudy and revealing clothing eliciting hungry stares and playful groping from a rowdy group of mercenaries. Mensig, the one-eyed bouncer, stood near the entrance and kept watch for trouble. He carried a padded club to beat troublemakers with before tossing them out.
A stranger in chainmail sat in a corner, his face hard to make out in the poor light. His eyes followed Kara as she walked toward the men-at-arms, so she blew him a kiss and he looked away.
"Aye, look boys; it's the buxom beauty of Westhollow come to play with our dice." The fatter of the men-at-arms laughed and took a tankard from her as she arrived at the table. He wore a chainmail shirt that jingled as he moved. Kara handed the remaining tankards to his two companions before he pulled her down onto his lap and gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek.
Like many men who frequented the Golden Keg, the fat man's breath was foul. It smelled of rotten cheese and sour ale, though she'd grown accustomed to worse.
"Roll the dice for me, love. I want ya to win back me coin," he bellowed. "These bloody robbers ave taken it from me."
Kara grinned, scooped up the dice and shook them, making sure her breasts bounced up and down. When she rolled them, the men were too busy watching her bust to notice. "You scored a seventeen!" She laughed and took a mouthful of ale from his tankard.
He scooped up the pile of copper coins. "I knew you were lucky."
After he pocketed them, he ran a hand up her leg and she giggled playfully.
"Roll mine now m'lady, and if you win I promise I'll buy you a jewel," the short man across from her said.
"Oh, a jewel is it?" She blew him a kiss. "And where are ya going to put it?"
Grinning, he reached over and ran a hand over her breasts. "I'll drop it between them two lovelies and see where it lands."
The other two men roared with laughter as they slammed their tankards on the table. Then the fat one said, "Where are you gonna get coin for a bloody jewel, Sonard? Surely not playing dice with penniless scum like us."
Sonard scowled and motioned for Kara to roll the dice. She scooped them up, shook them, and scooted them across the table. The dice rolled a fourteen. Sonard slammed his fist on the table. "To the dark with ya, woman. There goes me last four coppers."
She reached over and patted him on the cheek. "Better luck next time." He waved her away and went back to drinking. The fat man groped between her legs but she batted his hand away. "You have to pay to touch down there."
He growled like a dog and bit her playfully on the neck, then lifted her off his lap. "Off with ya; you've soured poor Sonard and now we'll have to listen to him whine the rest of the night."
Other customers had entered the tavern so she left to fetch them drinks and entertain them with girlish laughter and womanly flesh. The early hours of the night wore on, and Kara took a quick break to clean herself up.
Berda met her outside the washroom. "Go see to the man in the corner. Nyla said he's got a purse full of coins but he wasn't interested in spending them on her. He said he wanted you."
Kara went to attend him. As she approached, he leaned forward into the light. He was an older man with a beard shot through with gray. A jagged scar ran down his left cheek, and another three that looked like claw marks ran down his neck. He wore loose-fitting chainmail covered by a leather doublet displaying a yellow-circle insignia she'd never seen before. A fine-looking dagger hung at his waist and leaning against the wall beside him was a longsword sheathed in a silver embroidered scabbard.
She gave him her well-practiced radiant smile, showing off her fine white teeth. "Do you need another drink, my lord?"
He studied her a long moment, then lifted his tankard. "Yes, more ale would be good."
Kara took it and filled it at the bar, then returned and placed it before him. He pulled out the chair next to him and motioned her to sit.
She quickly glanced over at Mensig to make sure he knew she was there. The doorman nodded to her, so she collapsed playfully into the chair, maintaining her pleasant smile. The strange warrior put the tankard to his mouth and drank, his eyes on hers.
"Are you a lord?" she asked to break the ice.
He lowered the tankard and chuckled. "What gave you that idea?"
She pointed at his fine scabbard. "That, my lord. It looks beautiful. Not the sort of thing common soldiers carry with them."
He shrugged and took another sip of ale. His eyes were on her but, unlike those of most men, she saw no lust in them. "How have you been treated here?" he asked.
"Treated?"
"Yes. How have they treated you?"
Kara forced herself to keep smiling. What an odd question. Most men didn't care how she was treated; they wanted her on their laps so they could feel her woman-parts and boast about their exploits and have her laugh at their jokes.
"I'm treated well, my lord. Thank you for asking." Kara glanced at her sister courtesans who were entertaining fat merchants at another table. "This tavern is all I know."
He took a silver coin from his purse and lifted it so it caught the glow of the sacred light hanging above the bar. The silver bore the same ring of light bulbs around a crown that was embossed on all coins minted in the Caverns of Stelemia.
Kara tried to take it, but he moved it out of her reach. Still smiling, she put a hand on his leg. If she pleased him, perhaps he would give it to her. She'd never held a silver before. It was a month's wages. "You're handsome, my lord. I can be yours if you wish it."
He swiped her hand from his leg. "Do you know the old tale of the Metal Man behind the door?"
She blinked. "My lord?"
"Do you know it?"
Kara brushed back her bangs and studied him. He looked normal enough, and gave off no threatening vibe. What was he playing at?
"Do you know it or not?" he insisted.
"Yes. My madam used to read it to me when I was a child."
"Then tell me."
"It's a sad story about a man who was courting Lady Ibilirith when she still walked the caverns as a mortal. But then the War in Heaven came, the One God was driven out and Lady Ibilirith and the other divines went to heaven to bring him back. The man—whom she'd left behind—was heartbroken and in despair. He turned himself into metal so he would live forever, then locked himself inside his castle, behind a metal door, hoping she would one day come back for him." Kara paused for dramatic effect. "It is said his voice can still be heard crying out for her if you chance upon his door."
The story was told so children would know how powerful love could be and how it could change the nature of a man forever.
"What if I told you I found the door and heard the Metal Man's voice?"
"I don't know, my lord."
He grabbed her right hand and placed the silver coin in it. "Fetch me another drink, and it's yours."
She gasped, "Really?"
The man nodded and motioned her away. She pocketed the coin, not believing her luck, and raced to get him more ale. When she returned a minute later, he motioned her to sit again. He drank quickly, then set the tankard down, wiped foam from his mouth and let out a satisfied belch.
"It's been too long since I've had a drink." He inclined his head toward the door leading to the back rooms. "Let's go somewhere more private. I must speak with you alone."
Kara beamed at him. Finally, he was speaking a language she understood. She didn't enjoy sleeping with men—most at any rate—but she enjoyed their money and the compliments they gave her. Being a courtesan was a job and it had good days and bad. His strange questions and aloofness made things awkward, but it was satisfying to know she'd gotten a silver out of it.
Hand in hand, she led him upstairs. Berda sat on a stool in the hallway knitting a new blanket, and she gave Kara an almost imperceptible nod as she went by.
When they arrived at Kara's room, she closed the door behind the man and lit a candle. He leaned his sword against the wall and took a seat at the small table with the candle on it. "Your name's Kara, isn't it?"
"Why yes, my lord. How did you know?"
A faint smile crossed his face. "My name is Wrynric. I'm... an explorer of sorts. I have traveled places few dare tread in search of ancient artifacts."
Kara put her hands behind her back to undo her gown. "You sound fascinating, my lord. I like brave men."
He grimaced. "Leave your clothes on."
She caught hold of the gown before it slid off. "Sorry, I thought..."
"I have things I must tell you. I'm not here to pleasure myself on you."
Kara did up her gown, then reached for him. "That's fine. Some men are happy to pay to talk to a woman."
He gave her a disapproving look and gently pushed her back. "I'm not one of those men."
"I'm a courtesan, my lord. You gave me a silver. That's more than any man has given me." She gave him another one of her smiles. "I'll repay you for your generosity however you like, as long as you don't hurt me."
She'd slept with men far uglier, older and unkind than Wrynric and they'd not given her any silvers. She would do anything he asked in the hopes he'd give her another.
"What you are is not important to me. I'm here because I need to show you something that belongs to you."
She lost the smile as he pulled something from his pocket and held up a strange white item attached to a thick silver chain. The item looked like a playing card, but thicker and with writing on it. At its center was a square indent that appeared to be made of copper and on one end, a red bulb twice the size of a man's thumbnail that seemed to be as dead as the sacred light up the street.
"What is it, my lord?"
"It's an ancient artifact discovered in a ruin far from here."
"I've never seen it before, so how can it belong to me?"
What was he on about? Was it some sort of test? This had never happened before. Other men would have thrown her on the bed and done her then and there, or told her how beautiful she was and how much they loved her. Wrynric was strange, and it was hard to know what to make of him.
"It does belong to you, even if you don't know it yet." He stared into the candle's flame. "This was never meant to happen. You're a half-blood and his one mistake."
Kara frowned. "What are you talking about, my lord?"
He turned back to her, his eyes wet with tears. "Stop calling me lord. My name is Wrynric. I came from Sunholm, a hidden town deep in the Nether."
She backed away a step. "You come from the Great Dark beyond the sacred lights?"
"Yes, but don't hold it against me, girl. Not everyone who dwells out there is a heretic or criminal."
"I saw someone who lived beyond the sacred lights once. He was pale and shrunken and vile looking."
"Indeed, there are people who live in the Nether that look as you describe—we call them husks. It seems the sacred lights of Ibilirith do more than light your path; they are also vital to one's health. My people regularly came to Stelemia to trade, so we escaped the worst of the ravages of living too long in the dark."
She continued to keep her distance, interested in what he had to say but not wanting to get too close to someone who lived beyond the sacred lights. Everything she'd heard about people who lived in the Great Dark had portrayed them as sub-human curs.
Yet Wrynric did not seem so bad. Strange, but not evil.
He leaned forward in his chair. "Now stay silent girl, for there's much I need to tell you and it will be hard for you to understand."
Not knowing what else to do, she sat on the bed and let him tell his story. After all, if she listened to it, he might give her more coin.
"The story is about your father and the Metal Man behind the door. I told you I heard him and I was not making jest." Wrynric closed his eyes and spoke in a low, husky voice. "Your father's name was Arden. He was a great man and was the one who sent me here."
"My mother never told me who my father was. And I never wanted to know, for he broke her heart when he told her he wouldn't take us with him. Are you sure this man Arden is my father?"
Wrynric looked uncomfortable. "I'm sure. I met your mother, Kristia, several times over the years. She was a great woman."
Kara narrowed her eyes. "I don't recall seeing you before. How come my madam doesn't know you?"
"It's been several years since I've been here and I never introduced myself to her. The last time I visited was when Arden came to say... goodbye to your mother. I was sorry to hear Kristia passed away soon after we left."
Kara nodded, feeling old anger billowing up. She pictured her mother lying on her deathbed, bathed in sweat while Kara—her only child—prayed over her. "I didn't know he came to see her. Many believe Mother's broken heart was what killed her."
Wrynric winced. "I'm sorry Arden had to do what he did. But know, he had no choice."
"No choice?" Kara raised her voice. "Mother loved him and he abandoned her."
"And Arden loved her too, with all his heart, but as I said—" Wrynric stopped and swallowed, his face a mask of pain. "It doesn't matter now. We can talk of this later. I'm sorry I brought it up."
"It's alright," Kara said after taking a moment to suppress the bitterness that threatened to spill over. "Just tell me this is going somewhere."
He let out a relieved breath. "It is. Now listen. You also had a sister called Liana, but I don't have the time to discuss her now." He licked his lips. "The first thing you should know is that Arden and Liana were special and shared something called visiondreams. In these dreams, they caught glimpses of the future."
"Were they fortune-tellers, like at the Great Market?"
He smiled faintly. "No, they weren't fortune-tellers. In one of their dreams they saw the artifact on the silver chain. After months of the same vision, they decided to go in search of it.
"I accompanied them on a journey deep into the Nether, following the path revealed to them in their visiondreams. After many days of travel through dangerous, unexplored caves we arrived at an underground city, long abandoned and deathly silent."
Men had told Kara crazy things before—normally when they were drunk—but this tale of Wrynric's was quickly becoming the most unhinged thing she'd ever heard.
"We walked the concrete passages of the Dead City for a few days and chanced upon a half-open, scorched metal door. We climbed under it and found ourselves in an ancient storage room. Buried under a collapsed part of the wall was the crushed remnant of what appeared to be metallic human bones, the only remains we had seen in the parts of the city we'd explored. Little was left except a leg bone, part of a skull and a skeletal hand."
"But you said you heard the Metal Man. How could he be dead?"
"I don't know how to explain the bones. Other than the voice we heard, we saw no sign of anyone or anything in the Dead City. At any rate, gripped in the skeletal hand was the artifact I hold before you. Its location was near enough to where your father and sister had seen it in their visiondreams."
How could an ancient relic found in some distant part of the world have any connection to Kara? She wound the end of her hair around her fingers. "So, what's this got to do with me?"
He ignored her and continued, "We were about to head home to study the artifact when we heard something. We followed the sound and arrived at a heavily corroded metal door. A voice was coming from the other side but we couldn't understand what it was saying."
She let go of her hair. "Was it the Metal Man?"
"Yes, though we didn't know it at the time. There seemed to be no way to open the door, so we hammered on it with a stone and the voice stopped talking. I called out and asked who he was and what he was doing there, but he didn't answer me. After an hour, we were about to give up when we heard him speak again; though sadly, we still couldn't decipher a word of what he said. Eventually, we gave up trying to communicate with him and returned home to Sunholm."
Wrynric held up the artifact. "When we got home, we studied this thing in the belief that one of us would be able to activate it like Arden and Liana had seen in their visions. But no matter what we did, none of us got it to work." He put the artifact down on the table. "We were frustrated and close to giving up when Arden had another dream." He lowered his voice. "This time, it was of you."
"Me?"
Wrynric nodded solemnly. "This won't be easy for you to understand. Your father was a scion. You are a scion."
"What's a scion?"
"All you need to know right now is the scions were the people I lived with in Sunholm who carried inside them an ancient legacy. You're a half-blood, for Arden was a scion but your mother was not."
"Alright, but how do I—"
"Hush, let me explain where you come in. In this new dream, Arden saw you with the artifact around your neck. It was no longer as it is now, for the bulb on it was lit."
Wrynric paused, as if to gather himself for the final plunge into madness. It was madness. Almost none of what he said made sense.
"Your father said dark times are coming. He said you will be forced to undertake a dangerous journey into the Nether and that you will travel to the Dead City where we discovered the artifact. There, you will walk to the door we heard the voice coming from and open it."
How could he say such insane things with a straight face? She'd never left the capital before, and there was no way she'd ever go into the Great Dark. She leaned forward. "I'm hanging off your every word. Did my father see what was inside?"
"The Metal Man."
"The Metal Man?"
"Yes, that's what I said. You spoke to him in a language Arden couldn't understand."
"Really?" Kara dug her nails into her leg, trying to stop herself from laughing.
Wrynric frowned but continued. "He saw you enlist the Metal Man's help and later stand at the head of a great host and lead them against an ancient enemy in the Final Battle to end humanity's exile here in Stelemia."
"Our exile? Exile from what?"
He sighed. "We didn't always live underground. I'm a member of a group called the Covenant of the Lost Sun, and we believe humans came from a world watched over by our namesake—the Sun."
That statement finally made Kara let loose her laughter. When she could speak, she said, "That was a great story my lord, one of the best I've ever heard. Thank you for the silver coin; I hope I've pleased you. I'm going to speak to my madam now, so you better leave."
She tried to stand but he grabbed her and put a hand over her mouth. "I realize I must appear a crazy old fool, but your father saw the future. His visiondreams were real." Wrynric made her face him. "The ancient enemy is coming and time is running out. I'm here to escort you to our Safehold in the Nether. The home of the scions, Sunholm, is gone, but at Safehold we'll find a Librarian named Erinie who will help us get to the Dead City so you can speak to the Metal Man."
Kara mumbled indignantly into his hand but he ignored her protest. "When we're safely on the road, I'll tell you everything. When I let you go, gather clothes, food and find a weapon, for we must leave as soon as possible."
A scream came from somewhere in the tavern. Wrynric swung to face the door, pulling his hand away from her mouth. "Who was that?"
Kara used the opportunity to make a run for it, but he shoved her back on the bed. "You foolish girl," he hissed. "There are people out there that would kill you for what you are. They attacked Sunholm and butchered your kindred and they may have followed me here."
"Let me go, please."
Someone let out a long, drawn-out wail that was cut off by the sound of breaking furniture. Wrynric grabbed the artifact from the table. "Put it around your neck and climb out the window. Head to the Shrine of Lydan in the city of Deep Cave and I or one of my brethren will find you there. Tell no one who you are and make sure you keep the artifact hidden."
Kara's heart pounded. "Let me go. I don't want your stupid artifact—"
"Silence, girl. I know who is out there and he means to kill you. I'll hold him off as long as I can. Now take the artifact and head to Deep Cave."
She dug her nails into his arm, a pointless gesture as it was covered in mail armor. "I'm not going to Deep Cave."
Before Kara could react, Wrynric put the artifact around her neck. As it fell between her breasts, the red bulb flickered to life. Then the world spun and she fell on the bed, unable to move.
Wrynric came to stand over her, his sword drawn. "Arden was right. You've woken the artifact."
The strange paralysis began to ease. "What... What have you done to me?"
"I'm sorry, half-blood. I had to do it."
She held the artifact up and studied it. The copper square looked like the insides of the machines the Order tended, but the rest, covered in writing, looked alien to her. A wave of nausea made her drop it and wretch on the bed. When the nausea passed, she tried to take the artifact from around her neck but Wrynric stopped her.
She fought him. "Take it off. I want it off—it's making me sick."
"Your father said you must leave it around your neck for his vision to come to pass. You are the one who'll return us from exile."
"No, let me take it—" She froze as boots thumped down the hallway toward the door.
There was a scuffle outside and Berda cried out in pain. Wrynric positioned himself between Kara and the door. "Open the window, half-blood, climb out and run as fast as you can. Keep low for a few days, then catch one of the trader caravans to Deep Cave."
Kara's blood went cold as the footsteps stopped outside her door. Wrynric shoved her toward the window. "Get going, girl. Now."
The door burst in and a man garbed head-to-toe in black leather armor stepped into the room. He wore a black mask depicting an ugly human face, his cold, dark eyes visible through its narrow eye-slits. He held a short sword in each hand, both dripping blood. The man looked at Wrynric, but then his gaze fell on Kara and the glowing artifact hanging between her breasts.
Kara's heart skipped a beat as the man's malevolent gaze lingered on her. When his eyes switched back to Wrynric, he raised his swords. "You gave her the item, you fool," he said in a soft, almost mournful voice. "You should have died with the rest of your people back at Sunholm."
"Leave her be, Dark Brother. Your fight is with me."
"No, my fight is with her. I cut down her brethren in Sunholm for that device. She cannot be allowed to fulfill the prophecy." He gestured at Kara with a sword. "If I had known of her existence sooner, she would have died long ago. Her death will be for the good of us all."
Suddenly he lunged for Wrynric, and the old man barely managed to parry the blow. Kara screamed as the two men fought one another. If their fight carried them away from the door, she could run past them and flee the room.
As she waited for the chance to escape, her eyes fell on Berda, who lay on the floor in a pool of blood outside the door. Further along the hallway was another body draped in a brightly colored dress. Nyla.
Oh no, no...
"Get out the window, girl," Wrynric yelled as he parried a thrust. "I'll hold him off to give you time to escape. Go to where I said I would meet you and wait."
She stared at him, her breath coming fast. Mensig. Where was he? "Help me, Mensig. I need help."
Wrynric dodged a savage downward blow of the black-clad man's swords. "He's dead, girl. Get out of here. I can't hold him off much longer."
Blood ran down Wrynric's face and he looked like he was already tiring from the fight. His longsword was too big to use in such cramped quarters and Kara didn't have to be an expert fighter to know the old man was doomed. Sparks flew as the swords rang together.
She had to escape before he was killed.
Kara pulled the window open and took one last look at Wrynric, then climbed outside and dropped to the stone street one story down. It was lit by sacred lights, but shadows were everywhere and anything could be hiding in them. The clang of weapons rang in her ears as she ran away from the Golden Keg.
Her home.
A patrol of spear-wielding town watch raced toward the tavern, but only a handful made it inside before the rest were intercepted by three black-clad figures charging them from the decorated stalagmite garden beside the inn. The watch fought bravely but were driven back.
Kara ran down a narrow street away from the fighting. She needed a moment to gather herself and work out what to do. Taking shelter in the shadows beside a house, she listened. Voices were coming from the buildings around her as people woke to the sound of fighting. A dog barked and a bell tolled farther down the street, calling more of the watch to arms.
Torches appeared from a side street and a dozen more town watch hurried toward the tavern. Kara leaned around the edge of the house and watched them charge into the fray.
Smoke billowed from the Golden Keg's windows and flames engulfed the curtain in her room. A black-clad figure dropped to the street from one of the upper windows of the tavern and swiftly fled into the shadows. More black-clad figures armed with short swords raced through the front door and disappeared down another street.
Kara listened for a long time. The sound of battle moved away, only to be replaced by that of running feet. People arrived by the dozens to fight the flames. They set to work hauling water from a nearby fountain that collected moisture that dripped from the cavern roof.
She pondered what to do. If she went back to the tavern to find out if anyone survived, she risked being caught by one of the black-clad murderers who might still be around. She sobbed, her stomach twisting in knots. She couldn't leave them. She'd known them her whole life!
Something exploded in the taproom, sending flames in all directions. Part of the second floor collapsed and all the people fighting the fires could do was let it burn.
Kara covered her eyes. Her friends—no, family—were all in that tavern and now they were dead. Everyone she loved was gone. Murdered by strangers and left to be consumed by flames.
What was she going to do? She'd never been on her own before and knew little beyond life in the tavern. And if one of the Priest King's Inquisitors saw the artifact... they'd torture her then banish her to the Great Dark!
It took several deep breaths to bring her mind back into focus. She'd let her fears run amok. If she was to survive, she needed to keep them under control. She must also learn to make do on her own.
The artifact still glowed from between her breasts, making her visible in the shadows. She snatched it viciously from around her neck. Get rid of it and go into hiding. I still have the silver coin. That will be enough to get by while I decide what to do.
Kara crept around the back of the house and hid the artifact in a small mushroom garden. The light bulb went out as soon as it lost contact with her. She turned to leave but a wave of nausea and dizziness made her fall to her knees.
What was happening? It started after she'd let go of the artifact.
The dizziness became so bad she risked passing out. Before it got any worse, she staggered back to the garden and fell down, crushing the mushrooms. She felt around for the artifact and her left hand fell on it just as she was about to throw-up.
Kara put the chain back around her neck and as soon as the item touched her skin, the dizziness and nausea passed as quickly as it had come. She lay in the garden until she got her breath back, then sat up and peered down at the glowing artifact.
What was it? Why did the black-clad man want it? More important, how could she get rid of it?
If there was a way to get rid of it...
Time to work that out later. For now, she needed new clothes and somewhere safe to hide. The red light was visible through her courtesan gown and would draw attention.
More people came to haul buckets toward the tavern as the flames threatened to engulf neighboring buildings. Little was left of her home except flame, charred stone and memories.
Years of cleaning, hauling kegs and later working the taproom floor had toughened her. She would mourn her friends and her home, but she wouldn't let grief consume her like it had her mother. Berda and the rest would want her to stay strong.
Bidding her friends asilent farewell, Kara turned and walked away.