Bored by their conversation Laurie wandered off into another part of the house.

Mary set the kettle to boil on the huge black metal stove which she stoked up with some more wood. A double stack of chopped rounds ran up to the mantelpiece of the wide stone chimney. A tidy row of carefully labelled jars sat on a shelf behind Mary's head. Several pairs of children's shoes were lined up by the back door.

Everything in the kitchen was neatly ordered and arranged. Everything had its rightful place. The need for order inside the house in opposition to the chaos of the world outside was a trait they shared. It was one of only a handful that remained.

"I'd hoped the next time I saw you it would be without those," said Mary, gesturing at Tammy's uniform and sword.

"I'm not ready. I'm not sure that I ever will be."

Mary smiled and nodded, doing her best to hide her disappointment, but Tammy could see it in her eyes. "I'd hoped that given time, you'd make peace with losing your husband."

"He's not lost, Mary. He didn't wander into a forest and go missing. He's dead. He was murdered, for no reason."

"Just because we don't know why, doesn't mean there wasn't a reason. Only the Maker knows the plan for each of us."

Tammy gritted her teeth to stop herself offending her sister's beliefs. They'd had this conversation many times over the years and her sister's attitude still annoyed her. She was one of the few people who could get under her skin so easily. The reverse was also true, and Mary's normally calm face was screwed up in frustration at Tammy's lack of faith. Despite having not seen each other for a few years it seemed as if very little had actually changed.

The heavy and awkward silence between them was broken by the shrill whistle of the kettle as it started to boil. Mary set a pot of tea on the table between them to brew and busied herself around the kitchen doing odd jobs for a few minutes, tidying and polishing, bringing order to the mess generated by her children.

"Where is he?" asked Tammy.

"Upstairs, playing with the others," said Mary, without looking around.

"How is he doing at school?"

Mary finally sat back down and the familiar placid expression was back in place. "His teachers tell me that he's doing well. He's taller than most of the other boys in his class now, and he likes reading. He sometimes helps Korrain at the shop, but I don't know what his true passion will be."

"Is he happy?" asked Tammy.

Mary laughed briefly, but it held no mirth. She poured the tea, her eyes focused on the task, but in truth Tammy knew she was doing it to buy herself some time to find the right words.

"He's healthy and well fed. He has a safe home, a family, and as much love as we can give him." Mary glanced at the open door and lowered her voice to a whisper. "What he doesn't have is his mother."

Tammy frowned. "I don't know how to be one of those. You were always better at it than me, even when we played with dolls."

"You can learn," insisted Mary. "Just as I did."

Tammy shook her head. "No. It's better this way."

"For him? Or for you?"

Tammy ignored the questions and the barbs attached. Instead she put a heavy money pouch on the table. "I'm leaving Perizzi for a while and I wanted to make sure you had enough money for him."

"You don't need to keep giving us money."

Tammy left the pouch on the table. "Thank you for caring for him. I'm not sure when I'll be back, but I'll send money on my return."

"What aren't you telling me?" asked Mary, staring at her intently. A few seconds later realisation dawned on her face. "You're not sure if you're coming back. That's it, isn't it?"

"I've made arrangements, just in case," said Tammy, getting to her feet.

"Don't you want to see him before you leave?" asked Mary, putting out a hand to stop her running out the door. Part of Tammy wanted to walk out, forget about all of this and never come back. Every time she came here it only made things more difficult and each visit left her feeling torn and distracted. It was one of the reasons she didn't come very often. The other reason was that every time she saw him he looked a little more like his father, and that hurt worse than anything else.

"Hello," said a familiar voice from the door. He'd taken the decision out of her hands. Corran towered over little Laurie even though he was only a few years older than her. She clung to one of his hands with both of hers.

"Corran, do you remember your aunt?" asked Mary, trying to smile but failing.

Tammy struggled to keep her emotions under control as he studied her. He had the same dark hair and brown eyes as his father. The nose and height came from her, as did the unwavering stare.

"You came to visit a couple of years ago," said Corran.

"I just came to see if you and your sisters were well," said Tammy, glancing at Laurie.

"I had a bad cough a while back, but it went away," said Corran, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm tough, just like my dad."

"You'll grow up to be very tall and strong," said Tammy, resting a hand lightly on his shoulder. "I'm sure of it. It was good to see you."

"Are you staying for lunch?" asked Laurie. "Mummy makes really tasty soup. You should have some."

"Maybe next time. I have to go," said Tammy, getting to her feet. She turned her face away and wiped at her eyes before embracing her sister.

"Be careful," whispered Mary. "I know you don't believe, but I'll say a prayer to the Maker for your safe return."

"Thank you, for everything," said Tammy. Sensing there was something going on Laurie began to cry and she hugged Tammy's leg, sobbing into her trousers. Mary gently extracted the girl, gathering her up in her arms while Corran just watched. Tammy ruffled his hair affectionately and quickly went out the door, before anyone could say anything else.

The Snow Leopard was a sleek merchant vessel that usually transported goods up and down the west coast. Today it had been commissioned by several people with influence and power to take them east to Shael. The last of the supplies were being lowered into the cargo hold and the dozen priests and priestesses joining them on the voyage were just crossing the gangplank. Tammy noted they wore white robes, and all but one was decorated with a single candle, the symbol of the Lady of Light. The last priest was different from the rest and his grey robe was marked with the symbol of an open eye. He was one of the new plague priests she'd seen around Perizzi in the last couple of years.

"They volunteered," said a voice from Tammy's left. The stocky bald man had a bearing of authority and the weather-beaten face of a sailor. He shook his head in dismay and tied a red bandanna to protect his head from the elements. "Despite knowing where we're going."

"Captain Parrick?"

"Aye," he said, glancing out at the sea and sniffing the air. "Tide's changing. We're leaving in less than an hour, so get your stuff stowed on board as soon as you can. We're just waiting for one more."

The last priest shuffled onto deck and then they milled around not sure where to go or what to do. The sailors went about their business, ignoring the passengers.

"Nethun give me strength," said Parrick, crossing the gangplank in two quick hops. He started ushering the priests below while bellowing at his sailors to get ready to leave.

It was strange to be out of uniform after wearing it every day for so many years. Tammy felt a little peculiar without its familiar weight and smell, but she'd made suitable substitutions to help her feel safe. The worn leather breastplate was old but tough, and had been made to fit her. Bracers covered her forearms, a pair of steel-trimmed leather gloves were hooked through her belt and a steel-rimmed wooden shield sat by her feet with her belongings. The sword at her waist was the same one she'd used for the last eight years as a Guardian and she hadn't considered replacing it.

"Are you Guardian Baker?"

She turned to find a tall Seve man with serious eyes regarding her. He carried an axe at his waist and a sword on his back and yet she didn't think he was a warrior. He didn't hold himself in the same way as most warriors she'd met. His clothes were made for hard travel, much like the worn pack at his feet. His face was scarred on one side and the tidy beard and receding black hair were run through with lots of grey.

"Yes. You're from the Red Tower?"

"Not what you were expecting," he said with a grin, offering her a callused hand, which she shook.

"No. I thought you'd be more mysterious and maybe wearing a mask," she admitted, and he laughed.

"I'm not a Seeker. I'm a Sorcerer," he said proudly.

"What's that? Is it different from a Battlemage?"

"That is an excellent question," he said, picking up his pack. "We've a long voyage ahead, so I'm sure there will be plenty of time for me to answer."

"I didn't catch your name," said Tammy, moving to one side to obstruct the gangplank. She expected him to get angry but instead he put down his pack and regarded her calmly. His eyes sparkled with intelligence and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, but she also sensed a deep sorrow in him. It was all too familiar, and Tammy looked away first, not wanting him to see her pain reflected there.

"Once I tell you my name it may change how you see me. If we're to work together in Shael, then you deserve to know, but I'd rather everyone else on board didn't. It will make the voyage less awkward for everyone."

"That's fair," said Tammy, as a prickle of anxiety ran through her. She knew of only a handful of names that would affect people so quickly, and only one with connections to the Red Tower. This had to be Balfruss, the Battlemage who defeated the Warlock and ended the war.

"Ah, I see you've worked it out," he said. "I have a gift for you."

Moving slowly he reached over his shoulder and with something approaching reverence held out the long sword towards her in both hands.

"I already have a sword. One that I'm used to," she said.

"I'm sure your superiors have told you what we're facing in Voechenka. Magic is most likely involved. Plain steel may not have any effect, but," he said, hefting the blade. "This will even things out."

"Is it dangerous?"

"To you? No. To anyone or anything that tries to use magic against you?" Balfruss offered her a wry smile. "They'll be in for an unpleasant surprise. This is just a loan." He offered her the blade again and Tammy slowly took it from his hands. As she touched the plain leather scabbard she expected something to happen. There was no flash of light or burst of energy through her fingers. It was just a sword.

She drew the blade and saw colours swirling in the steel, but otherwise it was an ordinary blade, slender and well balanced, without any gaudy decoration or embellishment.

"Her name is Maligne," said Balfruss, staring at the naked blade with a troubled expression.

"It's beautiful," said Tammy. She sheathed the sword and heard Balfruss sigh in what she thought sounded like relief.

"Shall we go on board?" he asked and she led the way onto the main deck of the Snow Leopard. Tammy stowed her belongings in one of the cabins and made it back on deck in time to see the sailors casting off. Balfruss was stood at the rail staring back at the city and she leaned against it beside him.

Perizzi was the source of some of her best and worst memories. She'd spent so long walking its winding streets she expected to feel more of a lurch as it started to recede, but all she felt was a sense of relief. There were so many emotions tied to the city that it was liberating to be cut free from the weight of them. Everything would still be waiting for her when she came back, if she came back, but for now all of her thoughts turned to Voechenka and the mystery that lurked within its desolate streets.

CHAPTER 7.

Balfruss sat quietly off to one side with the priests while Tammy dealt with the officers at the Shael garrison. As far as they knew he was there to assist her, nothing more. They'd agreed to keep his identity secret from as many people as possible to avoid making a delicate situation even more uncomfortable.

Since returning to Seveldrom Balfruss had slowly come to realise the fear that his name inspired. The irony was not lost on him. No one spoke about the Warlock or the terrible things he'd done during the war. In hushed voices they told stories about the man who'd beaten him. The Battlemage who should never be named. It was worse than being forgotten by history. It also pained Balfruss to admit it, but the Warlock had been right. Just as he'd predicted, Balfruss had been exiled by his own people and now he was a bogeyman of almost mythic status.

At present they were waiting for the Captain of the Shael garrison to return from patrolling before they could press on to Voechenka. His men were incredibly nervous. Every warrior sat or stood with a hand resting on their sword and all were armoured and ready for battle. It would take only a small push to send them over the edge, so Balfruss avoided eye contact and kept his mouth shut.

The guards were also unwilling to make any decisions without their Captain's authorisation, even one that wouldn't put them in any danger. Despite Tammy being in receipt of a letter from the Queen of Shael explaining their purpose, the guards still refused.

It showed a level of fear and paranoia Balfruss had not been anticipating. So he waited patiently and conserved his energy, while Tammy chatted idly with the guards, subtly gathering information as she went. They probably didn't even realise she was doing it.

The voyage to Shael had been fairly uneventful, but over its course he'd come to respect the tall Guardian. She had pale white skin from Yerskania but the height and build of someone from Seveldrom. Her position in the Guardians indicated she had a methodical mind and he'd been delighted to find her intelligent and possessing a dry wit.

With little to do at sea, Tammy spent her time getting used to Maligne by practising on deck for a couple of hours each day, while he dozed in the sun or read one of the books in the Captain's limited library. Parrick was an unusual man with eclectic tastes, and amid the journals of famous voyages and studies of western history, Balfruss found books of poetry and even a guide to eastern culture. He was tempted to correct the mistakes but didn't think the Captain would appreciate him writing all over his book.

Balfruss spent a portion of each day by himself while Tammy spoke with the sailors. Her position as a Guardian earned their respect and she seemed at ease in their company. A few years ago he would have sat with them, laughing and drinking, swapping stories and jokes, but not any more. Not after the war. Not after what he'd seen in the jungles of the north. Balfruss traced the intricate pattern of the marriage tattoo on his left wrist with the fingers of his right, his mind swimming with memories. He spent a lot of time wandering the corridors of the recent past, listening to the voices of old friends, and inevitably his thoughts kept returning to her.

After a couple of days at sea Balfruss took off his boots and walked barefoot around the ship. The sailors noticed the thick calluses on his feet, but they knew from the way he walked and lack of nautical knowledge, they'd not been earned at sea. Even then the sailors didn't ask, but he'd seen them looking at him speculatively from time to time.

With so little to do each day, as Parrick's sailors were competent men and women, even Balfruss felt the need for company. During the voyage he and Tammy would sometimes sit in companionable silence or chat while watching the waves. She would tell him a little about herself and he would share what he felt comfortable with about the last few years since the end of the war. She didn't press him for more details, which he liked about her. But he also knew she was smart enough to fill in some of what he'd left out. Likewise, when she'd said there was no one waiting for her back home in Perizzi he'd spotted the lie. They both had parts of their life they wished to remain private.

Balfruss tried talking to the priests, but he found them to be a pious group who made him uncomfortable. It wasn't long before any conversation returned to their religion and way of thinking. After his travels in the north and all that he'd witnessed before the war, the established faiths no longer seemed to intimidate or impress him as they once did.

The priests' devotion to the Lady of Light was very different from what he remembered seeing a few years ago. Now the Lord of Light was rarely mentioned and his companion had become dominant in the church. Tammy had told him that those priests from the church of the Holy Light who were more interested in getting rich and doing little real work, had all but disappeared. Now those who followed the Lady of Light could be found in some of the worst places in every city, offering comfort to the poor, the diseased and the dying. The churches had become refuges where every coin donated was spent on helping clothe, feed and support people, not lining the coffers. The priests on board ship had not completed the Iron Challenge or taken the Long Walk, but nevertheless they'd endured a crucible of the soul, as each had haunted eyes as if they carried the weight of many. As someone who had enough demons of his own, Balfruss did his best to avoid long conversations with them. Nevertheless he could respect their dedication, even if he didn't want to spend too much time with them.

The only exception was the lone plague priest, a blond-haired man called Kai. He had a dark sense of humour and sarcastic tongue, which meant he also spent much of the voyage alone. Balfruss thought himself a decent student of history, but he'd never heard of Akharga. Kai assured him that it was a very old religion, with its roots in some of the earliest records, but with no way to check, Balfruss had to take him at his word.

The sound of raised voices brought Balfruss's thoughts back to his surroundings in the garrison, where the Shael guards were drawing their weapons. He looked across the room at Tammy and raised an eyebrow, but she shook her head and gestured for him to stay put while she investigated. A few minutes later she returned with a haggard Shael warrior he'd not seen before. The relief in the room was palpable and Balfruss saw the guards relax at the newcomer, who had to be their Captain.

Every Shael warrior in the garrison was lean with a gaunt face, but the Captain made them all look fat by comparison. His grey hair was cut close to his scalp and the white stubble on his face did nothing to hide the deep hollows of his cheeks. His deep purple eyes sparkled with so much vitality they looked out of place in such a weathered face.

"I'm Captain Rees," he said, sitting down with a grunt of relief. "I know that you've come a long way, but before you decide to venture into Voechenka, I think you should know what awaits you."

"Any information would be appreciated," said Tammy, declining the offer of a drink. One of the guards brought a modest plate of food for the Captain, who started to eat with vigour. His armour was still covered with dust as he'd come straight from the saddle to see them. He smelled of horse, leather and stale sweat, but there was no pageantry out here on the edge of the world.

"There's no law in the city any more," said Rees around a mouthful of beans. "It wasn't always that way, but you're not interested in history. The only rule in the city is that of survival. The strongest, cruellest and most cunning survive. All others are grist for the mill. The meek and the pious were among the first to die. The rest enslave themselves in different ways in return for protection." Rees tore off a chunk of bread and dipped it into the gravy on his plate. He chewed slowly as if thinking, but Balfruss could see he was savouring every mouthful. "If you go into Voechenka and get into trouble, no one will come in to help. My orders are to wait three weeks and if you don't emerge by then, you'll be declared dead. Word will be sent back to your families."

Rees looked up from his plate for the first time to gauge their reaction. Tammy watched him with a calm expression, unperturbed by the news. He glanced around the room, passing over the priests before pausing briefly on the axe at Balfruss's waist. Rees narrowed his eyes and looked Balfruss up and down, his gaze lingering on his hands, the axe again and finally his face. Balfruss saw Tammy tense, but thankfully Rees didn't seem to recognise him and returned to his food.

"My information is weeks out of date, but what I can tell you will still be of some use. Once fear took hold in the city, people started banding together to protect themselves. There were eight camps, five were controlled by criminal gangs, two were independent and we had a garrison. There will be fewer camps now, but your best chance of surviving the first night is to try and get into one of the independent bases, if they'll have you."

"Who's killing them?" asked Tammy.

Rees took a deep breath and shook his head. "It changes. Friends sometimes, enemies on other nights. Sometimes the dead come back to steal away the living."

It sounded like the ravings of a madman or a story meant to scare children, but no one was laughing. Rees spoke so matter-of-factly it was unnerving. The haunted look in the Captain's eyes told Balfruss he'd been in the city and seen these terrors for himself. Normally people would be quick to shy away from such an unsettling figure, but the guards were drawn to Rees because he'd faced the darkness and survived to tell them the story.

"What happened to your garrison in the city?" asked Tammy.

"We were overrun in the night," said Rees. "The guards on duty didn't cry out because they saw familiar faces in the crowd. Friends who'd gone missing that we thought were dead or had fled the city. Our relief soon turned to surprise and horror when they tried to kill us."

Tammy was puzzled, but kept driving forward with questions. "Why? Why kill you?"

"They offered us a choice first." The tone of Rees's voice told Balfruss it wasn't much of a choice. "To come with them and be reborn. They kept talking about the 'joining' or the 'blending'. Something like that. When we refused they said it would happen anyway."

"Did you ever capture one of them alive?" asked Balfruss, drawing every eye in the room.