Prologue

The nightfall was a reprieve to a lone, single girl walking in the darkness of the wilderness. She limped toward a shallow stream and a single tree as the sun vanished behind the mountains far ahead of her. The heat had all but killed her, burning any of her fair, pale skin that had been exposed. The child, no older than seven, slumped down in the shade of the old tree, gasping for air. Leaning down, she cupped her hands and bathed in the water the tree’s roots drank from. Then she took small sips of it to cool her parched throat.
How will I mend these burns?

She thought weakly, her eyes watching the three moons. One was blue, and full. Another was red, and it was split in half. The third one was white, and remained present by only a sliver. The child's eyes didn't seem to be dirrectly looking at anything; they weren't focused.
Why did you have to leave me so alone, mother? Why did father not help us?

The grief in her silver-gray gaze would make a soulless brute bawl. She curled into a ball, protected by the roots, and fell to sleep.


For five nights, this was the child’s routine; bath, drink, sleep. She ate the rabbits and birds that came to the stream for water, as well as the fish from it. The child slept in the day and hunted at night. She dug a hole in the roots with sticks from the tree to hide from the wolves and otters, covering the entrance with their blood the moment they came to close.
One the sixth night, a different kind of presence surrounded her. Her sunburn was blisters. She had wounds and was sick off from the meat and fish she wasn’t cooking before she ate; she didn’t know how to make a fire. But she stood and stepped slowly away from the tree, hardly able to stand. The wound on her leg that made her limp was festering.
There was something not far from her…
There are…others like me…

She could feel it. But…it wasn’t time yet.
No…I will wait here. It isn’t time yet.

She fished that night, and drank from the water as if it were any other night. Gazing at the sky, she saw that there were only two moons. The red moon was waxing; it was nearly full. The blue moon was waning; it was about half. The white moon was new.
The child bowed her head and muttered a prayer.
“Moon of Andoreous, guide me…look upon me…I will give you my soul…if you save my life before your blood-red brother is full and your ocean-blue sister is new.”
As if in answer, the dark clouds of the sky shone white for a split second. In the trees, a bird cawed. The child jumped. Gazing at the branch, she gasped. The bird was almost as big as her, and as white as the moon itself. Its left eye was blue, its right eye red. The bird’s eyes met hers, and the child heard words in her thoughts.
I am the Messenger of Andoreous. Your prayer has been heard. If you can prove yourself by calling out your name and submitting to Him, I will take your plea to my lord and spare your life.

The child looked the bird in her eye. Terror shook her frail, weak body. But she lifted her chin and called at the top of her lungs; “I am Rift Sylva Desha, and I give my soul and life to serve my god, Andoreous! He will always be my lord and master! I am loyal to him and him alone!”
The bird cawed again, spread its wings and took flight.
Well done, Rift. When a woman, a boy and a man come to you tonight, say your first name and your first name alone. The woman will ask you ten questions four times. Answer only your name. Even if she threatens to kill you, give her your first name alone. Do not show fear or pain. Then you will be saved. You will know if you are saved if the woman tells you her name.

“I hear your will and shall obey.” She called after the bird.
He was gone from the sky of blue and red light, forever hidden from the young girl’s sight.

It was nearing dawn when the three shadows yanked Rift from her root-dug den. She cried out in shocked pain. The hands of a man and a boy sat her down roughly. Rift gazed with defiance at the three who treated her so obscenely. And she said nothing.
“What do we have here?” A woman asked. She was lean and tall, but lithe with the blue eyes of a Singer. Her hair was long and black as a night during the Night of No Moons “A child, burned by the sun and festering under a tree?”
“She looks filthy.” The boy responded. He looked to be twice her age – and therefore twice her training. “Let’s leave her.”
“Wait…those eyes…” She looked closer. Rift glimpsed the tattoos of Andoreous and knew. “Who are you, child?”
“Rift.” She said the word stubbornly, with bitterness.
“Rift who?”
She didn’t say anything.
Understanding filled her eyes.
“Leave us. I need to teach this child some respect. Find a site away from the tree, down the river to camp. Catch enough fish for four people, but only cook enough for three.” The woman – the Chosen – spoke to the other two. “Do this for four days. I will return on the fourth.”
“What?” The man demanded, sounding shocked.
“Did I stutter?” She demanded. “I will send a messenger every night. But I cannot answer any questions.”
“Yes, my lady.” He bowed and yanked the boy after him, heading up the river and away from them.
She pulled out medicine and set them in front of Rift.
“Use them to treat your wounds, child.”
The girl hesitated. She tried to scrape her memory for clues not to use what she was given, but found no warnings. Rift thoroughly checked the medicine, but saw nothing dangerous.
Then she must not be an enemy. She’s just here as a test.

Rift carefully used as little of the medicine as possible to treat her wounds.
“While you’re doing that, where are you from?”
Nice try.

She kept going, ignoring her. The woman looked a little frustrated.
“What is your name, child? Do you not know what respect is?”
That’s…two questions, or one?

But she couldn’t ask; she couldn’t speak anything but her first name.
“Rift.”
“Rift is your first name, yes; what of the rest of your name?” There was anger in the woman’s voice now; anger that Rift instantly identified as a false emotion.
You’re good at tests…if I weren’t blind, I'd think you were really angry.

She gave the medicine back and bowed, showing respect but not speaking it.
“Fine; sleep for now. I will guard this hovel of yours.”
Again, Rift hesitated. Then she slipped into the den with a sharp stick. The amused laugh from the woman made her feel small, but defense was important. And both of them needed sleep.

For four nights, the woman pressed ten questions into the child. All the while, she protected her in the day and cooked for her in the night. But she wouldn’t hunt for the child, and taught her nothing. She would go from being gentle and nice to even hitting her once or twice when she was disrespectful. When the woman nearly broke Rift’s jaw for spitting on her, the girl vowed never to do that again.
On the fourth night, the woman rose and looked the child in the eye. She nodded her head once.
“You have passed the test, child. I am Tiff Lyn Desha…and I was your mother’s sister.” She held out her hand. Rift grasped it. “I am Andoreous’s Chosen, and the Singer who will teach you the ways of the Necromancer.”

Chapter One

Omen was shocked to see the child who’d called herself Rift following Tiff. He was shocked and a bit jealous. She was scrawny, weak and blind. But the determination that swarmed her aura and the way the child limped with agony clear in her useless eyes showed why she followed Andoreous’s Chosen. There was no doubt that the child would be intelligent and powerful.
As long as she keeps up and splits chores with me when she’s healed, I’ll have no problem with her at all. Hmm…there’s something…different about her features…

“Chaos…” The boy called to his mentor. “Is that girl with Lady Tiff Singer or Caster?”
The man, tall and powerfully built with green eyes and red-brown hair, gazed at her for a time before quietly answering. “Perhaps she is both.”
The boy shrugged, and said no more as he checked on the salted fish.
“Keep up, Rift.”
The girl didn’t answer, but just hurried her tiny legs faster.
She won’t survive long with Tiff as a mentor…poor girl. I’ll give her a week.

“Prepare half of the fish you saved for these days.” Tiff ordered Omen and Chaos without looking at them.
Omen nodded and put half the fish back in his carrier, putting the other half on a block of split wood. Chaos added wood to the fire as Omen refilled the cooking bucket, making sure the wood was damp enough. He put the bucket on the fire as his mentor flayed the fish. All the while, the boy watched the girl.
Her gaze was dead, but he felt as if she were still watching him. She sat as Tiff addressed a terrible gash along her right knee; it looked like something sharp had pierced the bone slightly, and perpetually damaged the nerves. She would probably be in pain and limp for the rest of her life – however short that would be; now that Tiff was training her.
“Stop staring at me.” He heard a tone of fear in her voice.
“Never mind Omen.” Tiff answered her. “He’s just a Contractor boy. He’s here to learn how to obey and protect us.”
“Why should I obey a little girl?” He demanded angrily. “She ain’t my boss.”
Chaos hit the back of his head in warning. “She will be your Chosen one day.” He told him. “Andoreous has Tiff training her for a reason.”
“She’s seven years old!”
“The age doesn’t matter, Omen. Now put these in the bucket.”
He bowed, still furious, and plopped them in the bucket.
“Show her disrespect, boy, and I assure you it will not go over well.” Tiff warned him, her tone as even and cold as it was quiet. He could barely hear her.
I think it’s time to shut up now…

And Omen did. He sat on the other side of the fire and stopped staring at Rift, though it was hard. He was curious.
Why isn’t she doing anything?

He finally wondered. She was just sitting there, shivering with fever. Tiff watched her closely out of the corner of her eye. Omen noticed the look of affection and concern that he’d seen on her face only once; when she’d left her sister and the new-born baby alone.
Didn’t the Caster mate leave them on a mission and die?

That was strange…the kid looked similar to Tiff…
Wait…could that be…her niece?

For the first time, he understood why Rift looked the way she did, and why she was blind. Casters saw during the day. Singers saw in the darkness, at night. So the contrast would leave a child blind. But the power of the child…and her sense of the world…would be amazing.
Damn. That’s gotta be hard, though. Knowing that you can taste the breeze and hear the fall of a twig ten feet away but never being able to see it…

How would she know what time it as, or the seasons coming up without the moon? How would she know the lay of the land, or where her enemy was?
How will she live a life like mine? How will she ever be a Chosen if she can’t even see?

Suddenly, Rift rose and walked over to Omen. She sat down next to him and laid her head down. Then, the child was asleep.
He watched her, tense and confused.
“Uh…Lady Tiff…”
“She’s exhausted. Shut up and don’t move until she wakes up.” Chaos told him. “And don’t bother Tiff.”
Omen sighed. Her eyes fluttered slightly.
This is going to be a long, hard night…

******

Rift woke with a start. Something was wrong. It was cold and quiet. No wind blew. Then she felt the heat of the boy. The woman who’d helped her – she’d called herself Tiff, right? – wasn’t far away. And that man, who called the boy Omen, was close-by, too.
None of them were sleeping, but all of them were awake.
“Tiff…”
“You’re awake.”
“I…saw a bird…he was white…”
She looked a little surprised. “You can see?”
“Not usually…but sometimes…” She felt the boy squirm.
He hates me.

Feeling the energy, Rift slowly rose and felt the land out. She again, saw in her mind, the woman. Limping over her – painfully trying to walk right – and sat down with as little noise as possible.
“But I see you in my mind, and I see the moons sometimes. I can feel all three of you…and I saw the bird…”
“I see…Andoreous blessed you with what’s known as Second Sight. Only a handful of blind mixed bloods see with it. Most rely on animals or magic, and they don’t fight; they become healers who need to be guided and protected.”
She listened.
“You’re blessed by His will, child. Now…it’s nearly dawn. Why don’t you get some reeds for kindle? Don’t stray far, and tell Omen if you need his help.”
I won’t bother him. He hates me enough already…
She staggered up and went to the river. Omen’s eyes followed her with interest and a mix of pity and concern.
I don’t need your pity, like I don’t want your hatred.

She carefully grabbed a day’s armful of reeds and cattails for the fire, and found her way to the flame.
“Do I put it here?”
“That’s fine.”
She dropped it beside the fire, just far enough away that she didn’t feel the heat.
“Now come over here and rest.”
“Yes, Lady Tiff.”
Omen called her that. I should too, probably.

She laughed. “Dear Rift, call me Tiff. You call the man Sir Chaos, however. Omen is the boy, as you’ve heard. He has no title.”
Rift nodded and found her seat. To her surprise, Omen rose and dropped a fur on her. It was thick with his scent.
“What’s this?”
“You’re burned; you’ll need my fur more.” He responded brusquely.
Stop pitying me!

But she was weary, and didn’t crave to dispute something the others saw as being generous. Rift allowed herself to fall asleep.

Chapter Two
Five Years Later

The taste of blood burst into Rift’s mouth; she spat it the tart, hot liquid onto the rain-sodden mud at her feet. She felt her lip swelling, but disregarded the pain from the split. Instead, she focused her eyes on the much more powerful man before her. He was twice her size.
She listened, closing her sightless eyes and lifting the staff to guard her face better. She heard the mud squelch as the man shifted in his leather boots. She touched three of the markings on the staff and muttered a word. As the man rushed for her, she rolled away faster than he could punch. Dropping him with a well-aimed kick at the knee, Rift flipped away and used her staff to smack him in the middle of the back. His cry of pain made her smile.
“Great move.” Tiff’s voice praised. “But that’s enough showing Omen his place for tonight.” There was a bit of a laugh at her jest. “Come and sit; Chaos made us lunch.”
Rift nodded, tossing Tiff’s staff back to her. She breathed in the scent of roasted meat, and wondered again what the beast behind it looked like. Then a caw caught her attention. Looking around, she relaxed when she saw nothing.
“The bird’s in the trees.” Omen told her. “It’s black, don’t worry.”
“Is the blue moon full?” She asked him hopefully.
“Hmm…” He paused; she guessed he was looking at the sky. “Not quite. It’ll be full in a few days, I think.”
He grabbed her hand and pointed it to a position in the sky. “That’s where the blue moon is. Where’s the white moon?”
She thought for a moment, and moved her hand to directly opposite.
“Wow. How do you do that, if you’ve never seen them?”
“I have…once…” Rift’s voice was soft and pleasant and almost dreamy. “And I see them all the time in my dreams.”
“Are you two going to keep pointing at the moons, or are you going to eat? We still have three hours of travel to cover, and a shelter to find after that.” Chaos sounded frustrated.
Can’t they let us talk for once?

But Omen took the blind Necromancer’s hand and guided her over to the fire, though all of them knew by now that she could find her own way. Rift felt the adults’ eyes plastered to them; she could sense their disquiet.
“Is something wrong?”
Why do they behave this way every time he’s nice to me? What are we doing wrong?

“N-no, Rift.” Tiff’s voice told her apprentice that the words were lies.
“Then why are you lying to me?” Now there was a little anger in the teen’s tone.
“I’ll explain later, alright? Just eat.”
Unsettled by Tiff’s sudden secretiveness, Rift could only take the food offered to her. She was so busy mussing over what she’d done wrong that the food was tasteless.
Did I misuse a rune? Or was I slightly off with the staff? Wait…it must have been my stance. Unless…it happened after I jumped at the bird call. Does she think I’m afraid of birds? Is that why she’s anxious?

“Let’s walk ahead, “Let’s walk ahead a while, Rift. We need to talk.”
Nearly panicking at such an outlandish request, Rift almost tripped over a tree root.
“Rift?” Omen caught her. “Are you alright?”
Now I am.
“Yes. Thanks.” Breathing in his scent steadied her nerves, and she was able to break away and follow her mentor. The air was charged strangely, swiftly undoing her short reprieve. Rift paused, trying to hear footsteps. “Tiff?” She asked, realizing she’d stopped.
“Do you need the staff, Rift?”
“N-no. I wasn’t paying attention…” Rift waited for Tiff’s direction. A moment later, the footsteps led the sightless apprentice after her teacher.
They hurried from the men almost too fast for Rift, who’d never been on the terrain and had to feel her way after Tiff.
“Tiff…” She begged, hoping her aunt would understand; she was out of breath.
“Right. I’m sorry, Rift. I don’t mean to rush.”
“What is this about, Tiff?” She asked, stopping the moment Tiff did and still nearly running her over. “You’re behaving so strangely. Was my stance wrong? Did I error in my magic, or the way I moved the staff?” Rift was frantic.
“No, Rift. It’s not that.”
“Then it was because the bird’s caw always makes me turn! Look, it was the same sound I heard the night we met…”
“Yes, I realize. The cawing makes you anxious, for Andoreous may spy. Believe me; I know. He used to do the same with me. The bird does still watch you. But the blue moon isn’t full, so there is no worry.”
Now she was frantic. “Then in what way have we wronged Chaos and you? Every time we speak, every time he is kind to me, you two become tense…what is this about? Can I not speak to the man who will defend me when you and Chaos have gone?”
There was the unsettling quiet again.
“It is us, isn’t it? It is us talking?”
Andoreous’s Chosen sighed. “You have done nothing wrong by speaking with him, Rift. In fact…I need to know how much I have erred. Recite to me who Andoreous is, the classes of the Necromancer, their tasks and the Laws of Andoreous.”
Panic almost taking over, it was difficult a moment to think. Then she heard Omen laugh, and it all flooded back to her.
“Andoreous is the Necromancer God; he created this world, and has the power to end it. His blood is the blood that flows through the veins of all that live, and once it leaves us so life does. His breath is the wind in our lungs. He is all and nothing, life and death.
Singers are Necromancers who use their voices and ceremonies to heal and guide souls. They are weak in the body but strong in the mind. Their eyes are blue, and sunlight blinds them. This is why they are usually with Contractors, who are powerful death-magic users with green eyes. These guards use those souls they have bound to them to protect them during the day, though they can see in daylight as well as darkness, they are nocturnal for the Singers. Contractors and Singers often stay in small groups of mates and apprentices, and usually the Singer and Contractor apprentice grow to mate. This means it is vital to make sure the apprentices aren’t related. Casters are diurnal, with brown eyes. They use powerful runic and summoning magic. They aren’t talented in soul sending, but gather them in dances and absorb them for defense. When they return to Andoreous or the Messenger of Andoreous comes to them, they give up their souls gathered and start over.
The laws are a thing of order and need to be followed to avoid chaos among the Necromancer Bloodlines. First, gather, bind or send to the Moon of Souls any souls found who are suffering, grieving or lost. Second, never question the dreams, omens and messengers of Andoreous. Third, pray to Him anytime you are unsure. He will guide you – even if it’s painful, he will make things better and show you the way. Four, always obey Him. Five, do not kill those who aren’t ready to die.”
Rift stopped, trying to think of others. But she couldn’t recall any. But she knew from the lack of Tiff’s praise that she’d missed something.
“Those are the common laws.” She spoke with tension in her voice. “There are four more for us Chosen. The first rule is that we’re to not just pray to Andoreous when we need him, but every night we don’t see him at the temple. We’re to do it when we wake and sleep. That’s not your task now, so I didn’t get you in the practice. But I’m going to have you start memorizing the correct prayer for his Chosen. The night I die is the night you use it. The second Chosen law is that you take any life he tells you to –even other Necromancers’.”
“What? He tells you to kill?”
“Rarely. But it is sometimes our job to take down those who don’t follow the laws so badly they need to die for humans, animals and us to survive. There are even those who threaten Andoreous himself.”
“Who would do that?”
“Greedy Necromancers who think he’s too forgiving, or simply want to be a god.”
Rift nodded.
I didn’t expect a lesson. Am I not studying hard enough?

“The third Chosen law is to shun other gods.”
“There are other gods?”
“Yes, in other worlds. That will be explained later. I have failed to teach you this last law, the one that you are very close to violating and losing your soul.”
Fear turned Rift’s blood to ice. She listened, unable to speak.
“I never told you this, because I thought you’d always hate Omen for pitying you and treating you like you’d never make it. But he’s changing…and so are you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He loves you, Rift, and that is where we’ve gone wrong. You cannot choose your mate, child. Andoreous does, to keep the line stronger than the others.”
My knees wobbled and I staggered backwards. Everything felt cold.
Is the ground still here? I cannot feel it!

“Rift?” Tiff caught her before she fell into what felt like bramble bushes. “Calm down. It’s very likely that he will grant you Omen. But you cannot choose him. You must think logically when dealing with Omen – at least until we reach the palace. Don’t allow him to sway you. Let Andoreous be your rock and your true love.”
Suddenly feeling cold and weak, Rift simply nodded.
“I…I will try.” She whispered. “But I’m afraid…I’m afraid I love Omen too.”
“Just don’t let it become physical, Rift. And whatever you do, don’t let His Messenger see you two being affectionate when the blue moon is full.”

Chapter Three

Omen watched as Tiff led Rift away, itching to follow. He didn’t like how quickly Tiff was walking on terrain that her apprentice wasn’t accustomed too. He hardly heard Chaos talking to him. It took the man shaking his shoulder and the girls disappearing from sight for him to here what Chaos was saying.
“Should we follow them? Rift can’t fight on ground she doesn’t know.” Omen asked quietly.
“She’s training to be the best. Forgive Tiff for wanting to teach her to handle such a situation.”
He didn’t say anything for a while. It was strange for Chaos to be so quiet.
“What is it, Chaos? Is something wrong?”
“I know you aren’t aware of this, because it ain’t our law, but Chosen can’t pick a mate, Omen. Stop tempting the girl; you’ll rip her soul from her body if you keep this shit up.”
Alarm shot through him. “What in Andoreous’s name are you talking about?”
“You’re being trained to guard her – not love her. So just don’t. Andoreous is very fond of his Chosen – especially his females. It’s unusual enough that there were three females in a row, with Singer blood. It’s even eerier that he just casts away his pure blood ideal. Don’t tempt our god, Omen. Her laws state that she can’t love unless Andoreous says she can.”
The disgust petrifying his thoughts was clear on his face.
“It’s so they’re strong. The Chosen is our strongest defense.”
“But…what if I love her?”
“It doesn’t matter, Omen. If you actually love her, then you’ll not mate with her. It’s vital. And when the blue moon is full, don’t even smile at her. Be professional – pure and simple. Sure, catch her when she falls. But don’t make it personal. Keep her at an arm’s length.”
“Chaos…she cares about me.”
He laughed callously in the glow of the three moons; since it was nearly winter, the white was almost non-existent. “Not after Tiff’s done with today’s training. That girl will love Andoreous and Andoreous alone.”
“Doesn’t she love you?”
This time, he hid his face from the boy. There was sorrow in his voice when he finally answered. “We mated only because she was told to. I’ve raised two boys and she’s raised a girl until the Age of Training. She never loved me. Before the order, she didn’t even seem to notice me unless I had to save her life. Then she’d nod her thanks and move on. The moment she was given the order, she was constantly in lust for me. But it’s only when she must follow orders that we touch at all. Haven’t you noticed she won’t look me in the eye?”
Omen sighed. “It’s because she loves you.”
He shook his head, trying to laugh. “No, boy, it isn’t. It never was and never will be. Now shape up, or you’ll rob the life of the woman you love.”
Chaos stood. “She’s calling us. It’s time to move on.”
With a heart heavier than mountain stone, Omen packed up and put out the fire. Then he followed his downcast mentor.
I’ve never felt so alone…

*****

It was difficult for me to not greet Omen when Chaos brought him. I nodded to them and looked away, as Tiff usually did when Chaos made her angry.
She stars at him with affection whenever he isn't looking. But when he is, her face is cold and hard. Will I have to hide my life my entire life?

My foot caught in a root and sent me flying. Before I could recover myself, Omen had caught me.
"T-thanks, Omen."
She never said I couldn't be friendly; just not affectionate. I'll never be so cold to him...I don't see how she stands it.

I steadied myself and detached from him, though his arms were comforting.
"Tiff...will you check my ankle?" I asked quietly, turning away from Omen. I heard his heavy footsteps return to Chaos's side.
"That was good, boy. I know it hurts...look...it hurt her too." Chaos muttered so that Tiff - or any normal person - wouldn't hear.
Tiff leaned down and checked my ankle.
"It won't swell, thanks to Omen for catching you." There was a scold in her voice.
"I'm sorry; I'll pay more attention to where I'm going."
"Well...that's a common mistake. Even people with working eyes trip. Next lesson is how to recover from a fall during battle. I'll show you how to turn something like that into your advantage."
Not in the training mood, I had to hold back a sigh. All I could do was nod and trod onward.Dawn wasn't far off; maybe I could sleep today without the dreams, and wake with a mind less fogged...

The noise of something moving - trying to be quiet but failing - woke me. Even behind my blinded eyes, the light of the sun was harsh as shadows. There were two people moving around. Alarm shot through me; they were on the ground! I listened more carefully, hearing little grunts and moans. Tiff's voice uttered Chaos's name quietly.
Cheeks flaring red, I tried to block it out. Finally, I coughed; trying to let them know I was awake. The noise quieted slightly, but not enough. I turned over and fell into slumber again. Their sounds morphed into Omen and mine in my mind, and for the first time I dreamed pleasantly.

"Rift...Rift, wake up!" Tiff's voice called, breaking me from my slumber. "It's dusk; we need to start training."
I turned over. "I don't feel well." I complained.
Tiff's warm hands touched my forehead. "You don't have a fever..."
"I feel weak...and my head hurts..." I didn't want to sound like a baby, so I didn't mention the hot pain on my face, arms and neck. Thankfully, the blanket had covered the rest of me, and my clothes.
She sighed. "Alright. You must have gotten too much sun; you rolled from out of under the tree."
"Yes...there's some burns..." Tiff sounded concerned. "Well...you'll have to rest here, then. Chaos, Omen and I -"
"All by myself?" The idea horrified me.
"Are you trying to punish the child for getting too much sun, Tiff?" Chaos growled. "That's harsh; even for you. She can't help that she rolled away from the tree."
"Fine...Omen can stay here. He'll slow us down anyway." Tiff's voice told me she was actually worried. "I'm scouting the land with Chaos for herbs and water. You'll need treatment for those burns."
When their footsteps were mere echoes on the ground, I slowly rose. My head throbbed and spun.
Omen's boots made me tense.
"Here." He put a cup in my hands.
"Thanks." I sipped from it to cool my throat. I nearly spat it in his face, but knew the insult in that. It burned my throat and mouth as I swallowed it. "What is this?" I demanded angrily.
"It's that stuff Chaos drinks all the time."
"Have you tried it?!"
"Yes. It tastes gross...but I felt better afterwards." He settled down beside me. "I felt like all the pain in the world was alright."
Then he laughed. "Chaos will think I drank it, so you won't get in trouble."
"You'd...take the blame?"
"Yeah. In fact, I'll help you drink some." He took it from me and took a gulp. I took it back and gulped it down. It seemed to burn less.
"A little bit gets you where you need to be." Omen told me, taking it back and setting it beside him.
He's trying to make me feel better...

For a time, we were both quiet. I was afraid to touch him, and my head was beginning to spin a little. When he grabbed my hand, I didn't pull it away.
I wanted it there, and nobody was around...
"Is the blue moon full?"
"Yes. The red moon is half."
"And the white moon isn't there." I breathed. "Like the day I became His."
"I can't take it anymore..." He whispered. Then lips touched mine. His hand was in the small of my back. My first reaction was to push him away. But he held on. Slowly, I melted. I let myself kiss him back.
This is wrong. What if we're caught? Tiff and Chaos will kill us!

But I didn't want

Omen to stop. Not as he laid me carefully down, or as he crawled under the blanket. I didn't want him to stop as he reached up my shirt and began to massage me.
"The messenger..." I whispered. "He visits every..."
"Shh. The bird doesn't usually show until midnight. I've noticed he appears about the same time. The sun is barely down."
His mouth was trailing down my neck. The more he touched and kissed, the more I liked it. Even though I just seemed to get hotter.
"What if Tiff and Chaos...?"
"You'll hear them. You waited to rise long after I couldn't see them."
It wasn't long before we were reenacting what Tiff and Chaos had done last night. I paused to listen for our mentors as often as I could manage. They were taking their time.
"I'm close. Should we stop? We don't want you having a kid." Omen muttered.
"No. I have an idea."
I grabbed my knife and carved a rune into the dirt. Then muttered a runic spell, thinking about me.
"There. Tiff showed it to me yesterday. She said that if I was ever in this situation, it would get me out of trouble."
"She predicted this?!"

I smiled. "Rift knows me well." Then I kissed him and blew in his ear, starting things again.

Chapter Four

Tiff's steps woke me from sleep. I rolled to face her, feeling sore and exhausted. She rubbed a paste over all of my burns - and the scrapes she noticed weren't there before.
She looked at them carefully.
Oh great Andoreous! She's going to find out!

"Don't try to train without me; especially when you're ill." She corrected.
"O-of course. Omen was here...so I thought he'd be enough..."
"You look like you trained almost the entire time we were gone." Chaos sounded surprised.
I felt the heat rise to my cheeks. "Not really. Only a little training exhausted me."
"Yeah." Omen came up from searching for firewood. "She's been out like the three moons on spring solace. We only trained for a half hour or so."
"Haven't you woke her to eat?" Tiff sounded angry.
"No. She was sleeping..."
"Never mind. The fire's low, too." I heard Tiff go up to the eat of the flames and poke it as Omen threw down the kindling. It roared at the new food.
A bird cawed in the trees. I looked around, and white caught my eye. It was there, in the trees. Its eyes locked with mine.
"The Messenger..." I whispered. Somehow, I knew everybody else was looking at him. I felt a pulse of energy, and realized that Tiff was releasing her gathered souls to him. Chaos followed her, and then me. Omen was last.
The temple...hurry to the temple. Great danger will befall Him if you are not there on the night of the new blue moon. Train hard, train fast. Do not waste time in collecting souls. Hurry, Chosen Ones.

Then the bird was gone from my vision.
"Tiff..." I whispered.
"What is it?" She wasn't phased.
"We must move faster...to the temple."
"Why? You're burned..."
I rose. "I...I must get there...we must get there...before the blue moon is full."
Her breathing and heartbeat quickened. "Orders?"
I nodded. "The Messenger said that Andoreous is in grave danger, and that we must hurry...that I need to train more, and learn faster..."
I shivered. "And that we're not to worry about collecting souls."

Impressum

Texte: http://whiteraven90.deviantart.com/ (book cover)
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 14.05.2011

Alle Rechte vorbehalten

Widmung:
To my grandmother, for her strong belief in a single god, to Joseph Pruitt for his love no matter what and to my mother, Teresa McLaren, for her dedicated mother hood...