Willum:
After a spiritual search in the Devastation, he went to the City, where he worked his way up, slowly gaining the Masters' trust until he achieved the position he was destined for: to become Stowe's Primaryâher protector and teacher.
THE MASTERS OF THE CITY
Also known as the “Turned,” the Masters are very old, kept alive by transplanted body parts obtained from the children of the Farlands. After the wars, they came to power in Year
1 A.C.
with the formation of the Conurbation, and it is now Year
111 A.C.
The Masters' Dreamforms are raptors, carnivorous birds of prey.
Darius,
also known as Keeper of the City, Archbishop of the Conurbation, the Eldest: Together with Roan's great-grandfather and namesake, Roan of the Parting, he rebuilt a city destroyed by wars and an asteroid impact. After Roan of the Parting discovered the Dirt, they had a violent disagreement on its use that led to a civil war. Darius ruthlessly destroyed the four armies that rebelled under Roan of the Parting's influence and has ever since been intent on megalomaniacal control of both the earth and the Dreamfield.
Kordan:
Stowe's former tutor and Darius's most devoted henchman. Frustrated by Kordan's failures, Darius maimed him in the Dreamfield, resulting in the paralysis of half his face.
Master Fortin:
Head of
COOPERATION UNLIMITED
, the Enabler Factory. Enablers are a kind of mind control device developed by Darius to be used extensively on the Clerics, but lately more and more on the public at large.
Master Querin:
Master of Inculcation, he oversees the City's propaganda and created the cult of Our Stowe as a means to control the population. Believed by many to be equal in power to Darius, Querin is deeply feared by all, including the Keeper himself.
Clerics:
The City's police force/army.
THE GUNTHERS
Their ancestors were the survivors of one of the four rebel armies defeated by Darius. They went into hiding in the City, becoming the bespectacled drudges who maintain its power grid. Unbeknownst to the Masters, they have secretly established a great underground library and research facility.
Gunther Number Six:
A leader of the Gunthers, he is short, balding, and rumpled, and a great friend to both Kamyar and Willum.
Gunther Number Seventy-Nine:
Inordinately curious, she is a bit of a silent rebel and studies white crickets.
Gunther Number Fifty-One:
An ill-tempered traditionalist.
Number One Hundred Twenty-Six
, also known as Algernon: A multitalented and long-missing Gunther, he has committed the major offense of taking a name.
CONTENTS
 Â
1. The Living and the Dead
 Â
2. Threshold
 Â
3. The Awakening
 Â
4. The Rat
 Â
5. Homecoming
 Â
9. The Exorcism
12. Roan of the Parting's Journal
27. The Primary's Interrogation
35. Preparations for the Eclipse
BEND EVERY SENSE TO THE KNOWING OF WHAT HAS PASSED AND WHAT IS ABOUT TO COME. READ THE LINES OF ENERGY THAT TRAVEL BENEATH YOUR FEET FOR ALL THE TRUTHS THEY ARE ABLE TO REVEAL. THEN YOU WILL FIND WHAT YOU SEARCH FOR.
âTHE WAY OF THE WAZYA
H
UNGER SNAPS AT THE EDGE
of Willum's consciousness. Unwilling to allow anything to distract him from his search, he has not eaten since before the last full moon. Watching it waver now at the edge of the western horizon, the curve of the earth's shadow almost slicing it in half, he hopes he has not arrived too late.
He feels Mabatan slip silently beside him. He could not have accomplished the journey so quickly without her. It had taken her only a day to track him and since then it is she who has kept watch, steering him clear of any danger, so that he might chase, without interruption, the clouded stream of energy Stowe has left behind.
In the cold night air, a fetid stench wafts up from the lake. Here the trail ends. Standing hidden amongst the red stick trees of this forest, he assesses the gates of Fairview.
“There, on the south side, the guard sleeps,” he whispers. And without hesitation he slinks across the open field to scale the wall spiderlike, trusting Mabatan to follow close behind.
The town slumbers and under the steady hum of its street lamps they easily navigate Fairview's web of streets unheard. As they approach the small cottage Willum has been seeking, he sees that its door has been left ajar. He stops, signalsâtwo dead, two aliveâand Mabatan takes out her knife.
The door is jammed against two dead men sprawled across the entryway behind it. Squeezing through the narrow gap, Willum silently maneuvers past the first of the bodies, but the second stops him. A feathered robe, a beaked mask: Raven. Acting on Darius's orders? Dried blood trails from the men's ears: Stowe's work.
Someone in the room has sensed him. A woman, crouched over Stowe. Before she can so much as turn her head, Willum leaps past a fallen table and seizes her by the waist. He hurls her toward Mabatan, who instantly pins her to the wall, dagger at her throat. The young woman, terrified, does not speak.
Willum holds the palm of his hand just above Stowe's forehead. Neither she nor Ferrell are awake but both are alive. Alive. Steadying himself, he opens his mind to the room and to the girl who only seconds ago occupied the space he crouches in now. Her scent and that of the house are similarâ¦she lived here once.
“Hello, Alandra,” Willum says, rising to face her. “Why have the Dirt Eaters sent you here when you are so needed elsewhere?”
The girl's terror hardens to a glare. “I don't know what you're talking about.”
“You stink of Dirt,” Mabatan grumbles as she reaches into a hidden pocket on the girl's sleeve. Pulling out a small satchel, she opens it.
“No!” the Dirt Eater cries, as Mabatan leans out the open door and scatters the satchel's contents into the wind. She watches coldly as Alandra desperately falls, wedging herself in the blocked door, frantic to scoop up what few particles remain.
A light goes on in the house opposite. Before curious eyes can spot them, Willum pulls Alandra back inside.
The Dirt Eater whirls on him. There is still the possibility that the girl may fight. “You don't know what you've done, how hard it is to get, how precious. Who are you people?”
Willum considers the situation pragmatically: time is of the essence. The bodies of the men must be disposed of. No trace of them or the method of death must remain. Stowe cannot travel in the state that she is in. She needs a healer's attention. Alandra must be persuaded to help them.
Softening his gaze, he pitches his voice to touch the Dirt Eater's heart. “We are here at Roan's request.”
“I don't believe you.”
“You don't believe that he would send someone to retrieve his sister?”
“I don't believe that he sent you. He would have come himself.”
“If he could have come, then he would be standing here. Alandra. Look about you. At dawn this room must be clean and empty. No one must even guess at what transpired here. We must reach an agreement now or we will not get Stowe out of here alive. Would you be the cause of Roan's sister's death?”
“And what did transpire here, do you think?”
Willum takes a deep breath. The girl's tone betrays bitterness and confusion. He must tread gently. “Stowe is possessed by another life-force. He is compromising her sanity in his attempts to control her mind. Look at this room, the bruises on her body. The nature of the damage indicates her struggle was not with the dead men but within herself.”
“But she was cooperating with them. Why would the Turnedâ”
“Not the Turned. She is possessed by a Dirt Eater.”
Alandra shifts from one foot to the other. There it is. The hesitation he was waiting for. “That's not possible.”
“I have heard of your abilities as a healer, Alandra. Stowe sleeps deeply; if you awaken her body, you will find the Dirt Eater I speak of. You will see the proof for yourself.”
“What you're sayingâ¦it just can't be.”
“If what I say is true, will you agree to help us get her out of here alive?”
The healer's gaze is steady, calm. “Yes.”
“Good. I will attend to the disposal of the bodies.” Seeing Mabatan about to protest, he signals that she is not to take her eyes off the Eater.
As his friend glides past him to stand vigil over the healer, his eyes fall again to the colorful feathers at his feet. Beautiful but ominously identifiableâpeople will know Raven was here. Stillâ¦that very thing might serve them well.
WOLF, ASP, RAVEN, AND STINGER WERE THE PILLARS UPON WHICH SAINT CHOSE TO BALANCE HIS FAITH. RAVEN'S BETRAYAL WAS NOT UNEXPECTED BUT WHEN ASP WAS REVEALED A SPY, IT PROVED THE HARBINGER OF A NEW AGE FOR THE BROTHERS OF THE FRIEND.
âORIN'S HISTORY OF THE FRIEND
T
HE SWORD THRUST NEARLY DISEMBOWELS
R
OAN.
He spins back to avoid it, and in one fluid move brings his hook-sword down hard on the assailant's blade. A whip kick to the neck and the warrior clatters to the ground. But eight heavily armed attackers are still standing. He leaps forward, trying to break the gauntlet, but they're ready, swords held low, about to skewer him.
He circles, fanning the razor-sharp hook-sword around him, forcing them back. But as he whirls, the vision replays in his mind.
His sister consumed by fire.
What does it mean?
Cold metal whisks by his face. He lurches back, striking out, but he loses his balance and he's down, rolling back and forth to avoid the eight swords plunging at him.
Roan twists, jumps back on his feet, and feints to the left. He elbows one fighter in the neck, gets another attacker with a back kick. Only six warriors left but he's already panting. Not good.
His sister consumed by fire.
Since the vision came to him late this morning he's been trying to decipher its meaning. He remembers Stowe's voice cutting down the panicked crowd like a scythe at harvest. In that state, how could she avoid being detected by the Dirt Eaters? Would Willum and Mabatan be able to find her before someone from Oasis got to her? And even if they did, Stowe was so out of control, she might not be able to distinguish between friend and foe. Then there were the Clerics. They were sure to be out searching for her. He'd almost rather see her captured by the Dirt Eaters than back in Darius's claws.
Reaching deep within, he leaps and with a flurry of kicks and a swipe of his hook-sword, he finishes off two more warriors. Four left.
His sister consumed by fire.
On their way to the Caldera, he could perceive her, feel her state of mind; but something in the rock here cloaks the sanctuary and he can sense nothing outside it. He grimaces in pain as a whip lashes him across the back. They've changed weapons. He steps forward, trying to get out of range, but another whip sings out, wrapping itself around his leg. He trips and feels the sting of another lash. Now they have his attention. He bolts up. Spinning, he twists the whips from his opponents and cuts them off before they can reach their swords. Chest heaving, sweat pouring off him, Roan stares at the eight Apsara warriors he's just defeated.
“Phew, that was almost embarrassing,” says Kira, shaking her head. She holds out her hand, helping one of her clan to her feet. “You really are out of shape.”
Roan offers his hand to another Apsara. “I won, didn't I?”
Kira pokes him in the gut with an iron-hard index finger. “Against a bunch of striplings! And they would have eviscerated you if you hadn't woken up. You've got to clear your mind. You should join the meditation tonight.”
“If I survive the afternoon,” says Roan ruefully.
“You will.” Kira signals, releasing Roan's sparring partners. “Grandmother tells me your diplomatic skills are improving, so I doubt our guests will put your combat abilities to the test.”
Roan laughs, embarrassed. “I think Ende has more faith in me than I deserve.”
“Hope you're wrong, or Wolf and Stinger'll be eating you for supper.”
“And Brother Asp?”
“He's receiving extremely detailed instructions in the setup and maintenance of our hydroponic gardens and will be unable to attend. Between you and me, he seemed relieved, can't imagine why.”
Kira winks, then smacks Roan hard on the back and leaves him toweling off his face, more than a little miserable. Earlier that day, when Brothers Wolf and Asp had appeared over the lip of the Caldera, he'd been so preoccupied with the dilemma of having to deal with them that he'd forgotten all about Lumpy's suggestion that Asp might be one of the Dirt Eaters. But the moment he'd smelled the Dirt, he knew his friend was right.