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survive under Areyn’s reign. Areyn ruled the dead as well — taking away Rhyn’athel’s warriors as he had done with Fialan.
    Rhyn’athel’s gaze lingered on Lachlei. To allow her to die — to be taken from him until the end of time — was unbearable. Rhyn’athel turned his gaze inward, using the Sight to look into the future…
    “Brother?”
    Rhyn’athel’s silver eyes had glazed over. They now snapped back to attention, and he stared at Ni’yah. Resolution within them told Ni’yah that Rhyn’athel had seen something the wolf-god could not. “You meddler!” he growled and with that, Rhyn’athel vanished, leaving Ni’yah bemused.
    *****
     
    “By Rhyn’athel’s sword!” Cara swore. “What is happening to our people?” The daughter of Silvain stood under the stars with the few warriors who were loyal to her. Twenty Silren warriors had agreed to meet in the rolling plains, far from the silver fortress to debate the turn of events. They had ridden their horses under the night’s sky until they reached a small hillock called Silwar.
    Silwar had been an old temple or shrine to Elisila, one of the goddesses of light and the goddess of the Silren and Elesil . The ruins had been there longer than Cara remembered — indeed, it had been there before the Truce. The Fyr had destroyed life throughout the Nine Worlds, but it did not destroy everything from the earlier times. The warriors dismounted and sat amid the broken stones and Cara stood before them.
    “I wouldn’t say that too loudly, Commander,” Haukel remarked. “Silvain would have our heads if he knew there were followers of the warrior god amidst his kindred.”
    “I am his daughter,” Cara replied brusquely. “His only heir.”
    “I don’t even think that will save us, if Silvain finds out,” a woman warrior named Tora spoke. “Gods protect us, but there is something wrong with Akwel.”
    “You noticed that too?” Cara remarked and glanced at the others for confirmation. There was a murmur of consensus. “Akwel and I have never been friends, but I sense something is terribly wrong. To go against the Chi’lan warriors is folly.”
    “But what can we do?” Haukel said, his hands outstretched in a helpless gesture. “Rhyn’athel knows Silvain won’t listen to reason.”
    Cara met his gaze. “He may listen to me,” she said. “I am his only heir.”
    “Too risky,” Haukel replied. “There are too many warriors against us. As Akwel grows in power, he will have your father’s ear.”
    “Then, we’d better act now,” Cara remarked. “Before it’s too late.”
    “No, we can’t risk you,” Haukel said. The Silren broke into arguing.
    “Enough!” spoke Cara, causing the warriors to fall silent. “I alone will speak to Silvain, though I may risk exile because of it. I am his only heir, and that may stop him from having me put to death as a traitor.”
    “If he exiles you, what then?” Haukel asked.
    Cara shook her head, her pale blue eyes filled with worry. “I don’t know, Haukel. I don’t know.”

CHAPTER Seven
     
    Lachlei walked from the quietness of the hill. She didn’t want to leave — for the first time, she had felt close to the warrior god. Fialan had often told her that Rhyn’athel held the Lochvaur and especially the Chi’lan in the highest regard, but she had never felt the closeness to Rhyn’athel that Fialan felt. Fialan’s power, he had said, came from Rhyn’athel, himself.
    As Lachlei turned to gaze at the dying flames of the pyre, she couldn’t help but wonder what went wrong. Why had the warrior god failed Fialan at this last moment? What creature was powerful enough to destroy a Chi’lan champion? She drew the sword, Fyren , again and gazed on the darkened blade, but did not use her powers for fear of the same reaction. Something vile had killed Fialan. Something vile that bled, she thought darkly.
    If it could bleed, it could die.
    She sheathed the sword again. Lachlei had heard of vile