On the morning of Matthias’ Awakening ritual, he woke from dreams of mist and shadow, and dressed in the dark; his shadow-tendril placed his cloak over his shoulders while his fingers closed the fasteners

  When he made his way to the door, he took nothing but the clothes on his back and two holy books: one for Lykosion and one for Enheduanna. After a final look around the room he’d grown up in, he closed the door.

  Tip-toeing down the hall, he paused in front of Dagma’s door, cracking it open.

  His sister was fast asleep in her bed.

  “Dagma,” he whispered. “Dagma.”

  “Mmm?” she groaned. “Wha…Matthie?”

  “Hey,” he came up to her bedside. “I’m heading out.”

  “Wha…it’s late,” she mumbled.

  “It’s early, actually. Very early.”

  “Why…are you waking me up then?” Dagma mumbled, wiping her eyes. “Is mother back?”

  “Not for a while longer. Listen, today’s the day.”

  “What day…oh! Oh!” She suddenly sat up. “You mean—”

  “Shhhh!” he hissed, glancing at the walls. His father’s guards might be outside, he couldn’t be sure.

  Her hands came up to cover her mouth. “Sorry. When’s it going to happen?”

  “Early this morning,” Matthias whispered.

  “Okay…. can I come?”

  Matthias shook his head. “No. Master Altaizar said that the fewer people we have around us, the better our chances for success.”

  The mage had said no such thing, but if things went badly, Matthias didn’t want Dagma to see him die.

  His little sister grumbled. “I want to come.”

  “I’ll tell you right after we’re done.” He offered. “Wait for me with Bregindoure, and I’ll come see you both right away.”

  “Okay, I’ll wait…good luck, Matthie…” Dagma’s voice grew quiet, her words more muffled, and yawning, she curled up, her head falling on her pillow.

  In a few heartbeats, she was fast asleep again.

  He pulled her covers up, tucking her under them, then closed the door. “Bye, Dagma.”

  Creeping through the hallway, he passed the room Sur Friya was using while their mother was away, then stopped at the bedchamber belonging to Beggahasta Stonebreaker.

  Taking a deep breath, he opened the door.

  The bed was empty, of course. Many years of age and neglect had left the furniture dry and the fabrics threadbare. Their mother had many priorities, caring for herself was low on the list.

  Matthias stepped into the room; bare feet silenced by the fur rugs. For a time, he wished his mother was there: he could have used a hug from her before taking the greatest risk of his young life.

  With a sigh, he turned to leave, then spotted her towering harp near the bed.

  Without any hesitation, Matthias crept to it and ran his hand along the wood, his fingers sliding down the strings, careful not to accidentally pluck them. He looked at the image of the man and the woman carved into the instrument, briefly wondering who they might be.

  It didn’t matter now.

  He patted the harp. “I’ll hear you play again when you get back, mother.”

  In silence, he left, closing the door to her room.

  In a way, he’d gotten lucky: after a torrential rain for most of the night, the storm had finally held its breath, letting Matthias trudge along the muddy road while remaining dry.

  He took it as a good omen...

  His luck, changed, however, the moment he began passing the training grounds.

  A hulking figure emerged from the dark—wineskin in hand despite the early hour—with a smile and a spring in his step. Matthias hissed when he saw him, but there was no way to hide: both he and the man held lanterns in hand and were nearly on top of each other.

  He met the gaze of Haakon.

  Matthias stiffened.

  His shadow twitched.

  Kari’s father squinted through the lantern light, eyes adjusting. “Oh. Ooooh.” His wolflike grin nearly split his face in two. Yellowed teeth gleamed in the lantern light. “Well, if it ain’t my son’s little friend.”

  “Good morning, Haakon.” Matthias glanced over the big man’s shoulder.

  He didn’t have time for this.

  He tried do step past him.

  A large hand crashed down on his shoulder, the impact sending a shockwave through his body, driving him down to one knee. He grimaced, but fought the urge to cry out in pain.

  He would not give this man the satisfaction.

  Haakon’s hand remained on Matthias’ shoulder, squeezing firmly, promising a strength that would have pulped flesh and crushed even a greatfolk’s thick bones.

  Matthias looked up at him, his face showing no emotion, repeating the Way of Stone mantra in his mind.

  “Oops, careful there, boy.” Haakon chuckled, taking a swig from his wineskin. “You’re so tall, I wanted to bring you down to my level. You must have an entire forehead on me, hah! Sorry, didn’t expect to drive you to your knees with just one little pat. Here, let me help you up.”

  Kari’s father switched his grip to Matthias’ bicep, pulling him up hard enough to nearly drag his arm from its socket.

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  Matthias’ teeth clenched hard enough to come close to cracking.

  Haakon smirked, taking his hand away. “Think I almost felt something break there! That’s pretty funny: you’re nearly twice Kari’s size but he could shatter you in two by accident. How’s a healthy growing boy—all filled with Life Enforcement—supposed to hold his strength back enough to keep someone like you from crumbling? You gotta be more careful!”

  Matthias said nothing.

  “Then there’s your brother, cursed like he is and all, making him a pariah,” Haakon continued. “What an unlucky family you’ve got, boy. It’s not like mine: Kari takes after me and I take after my father! His mum’s real proud of him too.”

  Matthias bit back the choice words about Kari’s mother and grandfather playing in his mind.

  “By the way, I wanted to thank you for taking care of my son. He can be a little rough, sometimes, but boys will boys, right?” Haakon laughed. “Kari’s written to me, y’know: him and his buddies are so excited to see you again! You four are going to have so, so, so much fun together. So, you keep taking care of my boy, alright?”

  Matthias’ rage simmered hard; at the moment he wanted nothing more than to drive a fist into Haakon’s teeth.

  ‘Patience for just a bit longer,’ he thought. ‘If Kari could kill me, then his father’s capable of turning me into paste. There’s a reason Kari looks up to that big bastard like the sun doesn’t set on hi—’

  His mind stopped dead, an idea blooming.

  An idea so terrible and wonderful that it boiled all his rage away.

  How did it never occur to him before? It was much riskier than what he’d had in mind, but if he pulled it off...

  “Your boy looks up to you, doesn’t he?” Matthias asked.

  Haakon puffed out his chest. “Course he does, he knows that I’m the strongest. He’s called me that all his life.”

  Matthias said nothing in reply.

  All he did was smile.

  A broad smile.

  A smile that a wolf might give its prey.

  “Eh?” Haakon’s humour faded. “What’re you smiling at?”

  “Just glad my friend has a good family,” Matthias said lightly.

  As he spoke, his shadow lengthened, the tendril subtly sliding through the mud behind Haakon. It suddenly snaked up, tapping the big man on the back.

  “What’s tha—” Haakon spun around, a shocking blur of deadly motion.

  The shadow-tendril had already melted into black mist and vanished.

  Haakon looked around, eyes darting.

  Matthias scurried out of the man’s reach, sprinting down the road as Kari’s father continued scanning the trees.

  “Tell Kari, Petric and Siegfried that I’m looking forward to seeing them,” he shouted, jogging along the muddy path.

  His grin widened, his new plan burning in his mind.

  “We repay with greater cruelty,” he whispered.

  Haakon didn’t answer, still scanning the trees, holding up his lantern and squinting through the low light. The big man could only see the early morning gloom between the trunks and beneath their branches.

  “Hey, boy, did you—” He glanced up to where Matthias had gone running up the road…only to find it empty. “What?”

  He squinted at the muddy path, only shadows met his eyes.

  Haakon was silent for a time.

  He gave his wineskin a long, suspicious look.

  After a heartbeat, he poured the wine onto the mud.

  “Breg?” Matthias crept out of the stairway, holding up his lantern. “Breg, you awake?”

  “Matthie? Is that you?” Bregindoure rose from his desk, where a tome lay open beside a candle burning down to a stump. The gigantic young man rubbed his eyes.

  “Ya, it’s me,” Matthias walked up to the bars, reaching his hand through them. “How long have you been awake?”

  “Since yesterday.” Bregindoure clasped his younger brother’s hand. “I was looking through my books, seeing if I’d missed anything that could help you, but I found nothing. Guess I shouldn’t have been surprised…Altaizar would know much more than my books could help you with.”

  “You should get some sleep, Breg.” Matthias nodded at the cot.

  “I’m not sleeping until you’re back.” His older brother frowned, looking out the window. “It’s soon, isn’t it?”

  “Very,” Matthias nodded.

  “Are you scared?”

  “Does it matter?” Matthias thought about his encounter with Kari’s father. “Either this fails and I die, or it succeeds and I don’t.”

  Bregindoure went silent. “I want you alive, Matthie.”

  “And I want more than that: if this works, I’m going to change things for all of us. I’ll make mother proud; I’ll protect Dagma from Eklund and I’ll find a way to free you. Those'll be the first things I do, Breg.”

  Bregindoure looked down. “You know, you don’t have to do this, right?”

  “What?” Matthias stepped back. “Aren’t you the one that told me to break into Altaizar’s tower? You started me on this path, so by Lykosion, I’m going to walk it.”

  “I know, I know but…I’m your elder brother. It’s my job to protect you, or it should be. I promise, Matthias, I’ll find a way to develop the Rune of Clarity. Once I do that, I can get out of here and protect–”

  “No, Breg.” Matthias shook his head. “I need to do this. For me. For all of us, but …especially for me.”

  Silence fell.

  Bregindoure’s eyes gleamed, meeting his younger brother’s own. “Then you succeed. You come back remade, Matthie. You have to succeed.”

  Matthias nodded. “I’ll see you soon, Breg. And when you see me next time? I’ll be better.”

  The skies opened up as Matthias made his way through the forest.

  At first, there were only a few cold drops. Then a drizzle. Then the forest came alive with the drumbeat of pounding raindrops. Thunder growled, its booms reverberating as lightning flashed on the horizon.

  Matthias’ hood was over his head, he began moving at a run, his cloak flapping around him.

  Passing beside the swelling stream, he could almost hear the shouts of Kari, Petric and Siegfried at his back; the last time he’d come this way, the three boys had chased him like hunting dogs running down a buck.

  He growled at the memory, running harder.

  ‘Never again,’ he promised himself.

  It was with this thought that he emerged into the patch of thorny brush where he’d nearly met his end. The cliff lay ahead, and below it, he could see the forest and lightning raking the forest in the distance.

  Standing at the cliff’s edge, was Master Altaizar.

  He floated slightly above the ground—leaving his boots and robes free of mud—and reading a book by the light of a floating ball of fire the size of a human head. It hovered at his side.

  Matthias watched as rain drops curved around him as though they had minds of their own.

  Altaizar looked up as his pupil approached. “So, you did come. I gave it a one out of three chance that you would lose your nerve. I continue to be impressed.”

  “You can be impressed if I live through this.” Matthias looked up at the dark sky. Lightning crashed and thunder roared, the heartbeats between them lessening; the flashes were drawing closer by the moment.

  “How morbid! I like that,” Altaizar closed his book. “Are you ready?”

  “Maybe.” Matthias walked to the cliff’s edge, looking up at the trees. Their shadows would fall on him with light at the right angle. He pulled out the holy books. “Not much I can do to prepare, right? I won’t know if I’m ready until that lightning hits me.”

  “Well said,” Altaizar agreed, pointing to his fireball. “Split into twelve.”

  The orb of flame shuddered, then divided itself in a dozen copies.

  “Go behind the trees,” Altaizar ordered. “Angle yourself so that their shadows fall on this one here.” He pointed at Matthias. “And do not burn either branch or leaf.”

  The fires zipped away, shooting off into the canopy, lighting it up as though invisible phantoms were holding torches. Long, flickering shadows fell on Matthias from all sides.

  “Alright, I’d strip off your shirt and cloak, if I were you.” Altaizar warned. “I’ll be aiming the lightning at your heart and striking your soul through it. The type of lightning I’m going to call down would turn your shirt to ash. Here, let me help you: rain, do not touch this boy.”

  The rain started curving around Matthias as it had Altaizar.

  “Thanks.” Matthias took his shirt and cloak off, laying them down and moving closer to the edge of the cliff, sitting down, cross-legged. The holy books rested on his knees, his hands pressing down on them; he hoped they would attract the right Divine Breath.

  “There will be pain.” Altaizar warned. “Likely more than you have experienced in your life up to now. Be ready.”

  “I will.” Matthias looked to the sky.

  The lightning continued to approach.

  It flashed brighter.

  Faster.

  Matthias and Altaizar were silent for some time. The thunder boomed quicker; the lightning came closer.

  And then, it was upon them.

  Wind whipped Matthias’ long hair, howling across the cliff, making the trees groan as though in agony. Altaizar’s firelights held steady, but the trunks’ shadows falling on Matthias writhed.

  “Steady.” Altaizar stepped away from his pupil.

  The lightning crashed around him, so bright, it stung Matthias’ eyes. It lanced through the forest, popping and splitting trees. Mud hissing, steam rising.

  “Steady.” Altaizar held up a hand. He pulled the lens of dream-glass from his robe. “We just need the right bolt—”

  There came a boom, seeming to shake the world itself.

  The storm’s heart thundered.

  A spear of lightning streaked down; a potent bolt that could have been cast by a god’s hand.

  “Now!” Altaizar called. “To me!”

  The bolt swerved, shooting from the sky, striking the lens, blazing bright.

  Matthias braced.

  This was it.

  “Go!” Altaizar pointed at his pupil.

  The lens flared as bright as sunlight.

  Raw lightning ran free, piercing Matthias’ chest.

  Also cliff-kun strikes again!

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