The Keeper's Shadow by Dennis Foon Read Free Book Online Page A

casually as she can, “Those women…are your ‘people’?”
    â€œYes,” he answers with a wide grin.
    â€œThey seem quite strong,” Stowe comments wryly.
    â€œThey are Apsara,” says Willum, his eyes penetrating hers. “They are the descendants of the rebels Darius set the plague upon.”
    â€œOnly the women survived it,” adds Mabatan, as she moves past Stowe. “Rage and sorrow and necessity forced them onto the path of the warrior.”
    If these are his people, Willum is Apsara. That means Willum is descended from the rebels who escaped Darius’s clutches. What is she to him, then? Simply a means to attack his enemy? Stowe’s breath catches in her chest; her heart beats wildly.
    Gently placing Stowe on the ground, Willum bends to look inquiringly at her. “There is no need for anger.”
    â€œI am not angry!” shouts Stowe, desperately trying to remain standing as Willum meets her glare with a smile. “Smile all you want, Willum, I am not a child and I will not be charmed. If you have betrayed me, if your Apsara are using me, I’ll…I’ll…” But her head spins wildly and as dozens of Willums reach out for her the world fades to black.

AN UNEASY ALLIANCE
    MANY THREADS BOUND ROAN TO THE BROTHERS: HIS PAST BOUND HIM TO SAINT; HIS SWORD BOUND HIM TO WOLF; HIS SCAR BOUND HIM TO STINGER; AND HIS DESTINY BOUND HIM TO THE FRIEND.
    â€”ORIN’S HISTORY OF THE FRIEND
    R OAN HAS TO ADMIT, Kira’s quarters in the Caldera were the sensible choice . Saint had been her mate, and she’d kept many of his things, mementos the Brothers revered. Feeling their Prophet’s presence will make Wolf and Stinger more comfortable. If they are at ease, the meeting will have a better chance of going smoothly.
    Or so the theory goes.
    Inside the black stone walls, Wolf, acting head of the brethren, and Stinger, their authority in matters of the spirit, are seated under a mural of the Friend, god of the Brothers. Both are studying the map Lumpy and the Apsara draftswomen have been laboring over these last few days.
    â€œThe northern territory provides the City with coal, iron, and wood,” says Lumpy, proud of his research. “The south focuses on agriculture; that’s where the City’s food is coming from. The west: sulfur and salt and what little oil they can produce. East is where the Masters go for the children they…” Lumpy sighs. Gathering his composure, he continues, “We need to drive a wedge between the Governors and the City. Interfere with their production, interrupt their transport. If we can control—”
    Lumpy stops abruptly. Brother Wolf is no longer looking at the map. His eyes are riveted on Roan, who stands stock-still at the threshold, with Ende and Kira equally solid at his side.
    Wolf rises from his seat. He looks more fearsome than ever, his shaved head gleaming, his hand falling almost lazily over his hook-sword. That sword had taken part in the annihilation of Longlight. It had been used to train Roan in combat. Once, Roan had even battled it for his life.
    In a silence that quivers with tension, Lumpy clears his throat and grins nervously. “Roan, welcome!”
    Kira and Ende smile at this effort but Roan cannot allow himself to acknowledge his friend with more than a brief nod. Wolf would interpret breaking his gaze as weakness, and Roan’s instincts warn against anything but a show of strength.
    It is Brother Stinger, rising to stand beside Wolf, who breaks the impasse. Pressing his dusky palms together, he waits patiently until Brother Wolf also adopts the ritual posture. Observing the cost of this action on Wolf, the effort of control in body and voice, tells Roan a great deal about the predicament the Brothers have found themselves in—much more than the words that follow.
    â€œIn the name of the Friend, in the name of the Prophet, we swear our fealty to you,