Kaiteras! the voice screamed, so loud in Marek’s mind that he feared his head would shatter. Kaiteras! I see you! I smell you! I taste your ether! You’re too weak to challenge me! Kaiteras!

  Marek held Ember’s reins in a desperate grip. The voice taunted him, threatened him, relentless in its torment.

  And then he was out, the tunnel left behind. He allowed the horse to run for another minute, grateful for every stride Ember Shade took, bearing them away from the cursed miasma of the Rift. Steeling himself, he glanced over his shoulder and sighed in relief to see Mags riding behind him.

  Ahead, Ashurai rode to the peak of a small hill and wheeled round. “We made it!” the warrior called. Pale in the face, his stallion jittery as it trotted in a tight circle, Ashurai looked every bit as disturbed as Marek felt.

  “I guess we did.” He drew in his mount and slowed the gelding.

  They reached the apex of the hill and followed Ashurai’s lead. Both riders circled the hilltop until Mags joined them. The horses slowly calmed, their chuffing chaotic, mouths frothing with spittle.

  Ashurai dismounted first and looked to his companions. “I wasn’t sure we would survive.”

  When Mags slid from Cinnabar’s back, her legs nearly buckled. “Only by the Mother’s grace. Damn it all to hell, that was awful! That monster stared at me the whole time, and Cinnabar must have seen him too. She started shaking so bad she nearly fell toward the end.”

  “You saw him?” Marek asked, chills running up his spine. “Tell me you’re joking.”

  “Some rifting joke! I’m wrong in the head, Bones, but I ain’t that broken,” she said as she shook out her hands. “Wait, you didn’t see him? The creepy bastard with black eyes and enormous wings?”

  Marek shivered. To hear a description of the creature that had shouted at him during the crossing didn’t ease his nerves one bit. “No, I saw nothing but the light ahead and Ashurai’s backside. But it—no, he—broke into my mind. Shoved Allon aside like the daemon had never been there and screamed in my head the entire time. Hold on, I…” He held up a hand and spoke to his familiar. Are you there? Allon, answer me. Are you okay?

  When the creature didn’t respond, Marek activated Summon Familiar. The daemon shot from his chest and flew straight into the sky with a hiss, every scale on his hide vibrating. “Massster!” he called. “The Mighty One touched me! I felt his stain! It hurts, Master! It hurts!”

  “Allon, come back! We’re out of the Rift! It’s okay!”

  The daemon reoriented and flew back only to circle Ember Shade’s legs. This in turn frightened the horse, and Marek feared the mount might rear up or bolt. With an effort of will, he wrestled with Allon’s panicking mind and recalled the daemon.

  So strong, so fierce! Allon complained. We aren’t strong enough to face him! Master, he’s too powerful!

  Marek communicated calmness through their connection to soothe the daemon. I know, but we don’t have to. Not yet at least. Calm down, Allon. We’re safe for now.

  Ashurai stared at the storm of swirling black mist they’d left behind. “I saw and heard nothing,” he admitted. “I felt him, though. More wicked than Dumhvala himself, I felt its dark touch.”

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  Marek dismounted and pressed his palms to Ember’s chest. The gelding’s heart pulsed rapidly. No one spoke for a time. They soothed their animals and worked to soothe their minds.

  He strode to the center of where the horses stood and waited for Ashurai and Mags to join him. When they did, he rested a hand on each of their shoulders. “That thing, what Allon called the Mighty One, is trapped in there. If our quest is to rid the world of the Rift and the demons, then we might have to fight him. That isn’t going to happen any time soon. For now, we need to focus on our quest.”

  Ashurai nodded sternly. “Well spoken, mage,” he said, and Marek thought he detected a hint of sarcasm in the warrior’s voice. “The Hong Shan Province is far from here. Thousands of leagues, in fact. Our journey is straightforward. We travel east and always east, but it’s foolish to think we will make the trip in a straight line.”

  Mags quirked an eyebrow. “What are you saying? Wanting to stop and explore, maybe visit a tavern or two?”

  The Basari frowned at the woman. “Srahesh’s precepts forbid the drinking of alcohol. I was suggesting no such thing.”

  Marek looked between the two, one a tiny monk with a big mouth, the other a burly warrior far too serious for his own good. “This is going to be a long trip. Magpie, shut your trap for a bit, won’t you? Ashurai, what did you mean?”

  “In Basar, the Unbound Realm isn’t so distant and mythical as they view it in Ardea,” he said. “Some remember this world, for travel between realms was once possible and a frequent practice. My first swordmaster taught all of his pupils everything he knew. Three provinces: Yu, which we stand in now, Hua in the south, and Hong Shan in the far east. I know only a little of each, but the provinces aren’t like our kingdoms. They aren’t nearly so united, or at least they weren’t before the Rift was formed.”

  Marek listened intently. Every word seemed precious, for it added to the paltry store of information he had on the Unbound Realm.

  “Sects hold all power here. Some rule over vast territories while others remain small and hidden. I have no idea what to expect here, but I know where we should begin.”

  Mags’ shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. Her humor so often masked her true emotions. She was scared stupid, and Marek considered that to be a good thing. He was as well. If they were to survive in this new land, it would require strategy as well as luck.

  Ashurai glanced to the east and pointed. “A great mountain range separates Yu from Hua Province. We will need to cross it, for the only other option is to travel north to the border of Hong Shan directly. Unless the landscape has changed, a great desert lies in the north, and I’d rather avoid it if you both agree.”

  Mags grimaced. “I’m pale as a daisy. I’d die in a day if we come across a desert. Marek?”

  “So, due east?” Marek asked. “I’ll follow your lead in that regard, but I’m worried about a few things. Only you speak Basari,” he said, nodding to Ashurai, “and chances are few people in this place share that tongue. We might find ourselves cut off completely, and there’s no way we can make it thousands of leagues without supplies.”

  The corner of Ashurai’s mouth twitched upward just a little. “Clever as a sand fox,” he said. “My suggestion is we ride east until we find the first town. From there, I’ll do my best to get directions to a city. If we can buy a few language tomes, we won’t have to waste months learning new languages.”

  “Those are damn expensive!” Mags objected.

  “They are,” Marek threw in. “But if you remember, you and I are damn near rich. Currency will be different, but gold is gold. Or is that not valuable here, Ashurai?”

  The warrior chuckled bitterly. “We’ll find out. So, we agree on the plan?”

  Mags and Marek nodded.

  With this settled, Marek glanced to the sky. “We have five or six hours till sundown. What do you say we get moving? I’d rather not spend the night near the Rift if we can help it.”

  “Agreed,” Mags and Ashurai said together.

  The three mounted up and faced the east. Their horses standing shoulder to shoulder, they peered across an expanse of open grassland. A moody breeze buffeted the landscape, causing ripples in the sea of grass. Several miles away, the silver coil of a river could be seen, and along its border tall stands of trees grew in clusters.

  Marek sighed deeply. The terror of the crossing had lifted, and the burden of their impossible task seemed distant. In that moment, he could think only of what lay ahead. “It’s beautiful,” he said.

  Ashurai grunted, and Mags laughed and slapped her thigh, saying, “Aye, that it is. Might be a horde of monsters ahead, but I can’t disagree, Bones. It is damned beautiful.”

  Face splitting into a grin, Marek spurred Ember onward. “Let’s go, Ember! Ha!” he cried, and the gelding galloped down the far side of the hill. His companions riding on either side, they tore across the open plain, heading due east to seek what fate had planned for them.