Prologue

The days were becoming exhausting. Despite the Church of the Will placing Kaitlyn in a rather nice room after her arrest, she had not spent much time in it. Interrogations, hearings, and health examinations filled every one of the ten-or-so days since Matthew died.

The questioning was intrusive. How had she known Matt? Where was her hometown? How did she get involved with Matt? How long were they married? What was her involvement in the theft at Happfield?

There was one positive, though, to all of this. The room she had been stuffed into had a comfortable bed, a writing desk, a beautiful painting of Duskfall, and most importantly, wards in the stones around it. The elements had been coming to her much more aggressively upon her arrival at The Throne, and it was becoming more and more difficult to hold them at bay.

Kaitlyn’s grandmother had taught her about partitioning her emotions and hiding them from the elements. After all, the nonliving world is not known for its restraint. Between floods, earthquakes, eruptions, and tornadoes, it would be best to hold these forces at arm’s length when emotionally compromised.

And Kaitlyn was definitely emotionally compromised. She would spend her alone time in the room just staring at the wall, tears slowly flowing. With the wards, she was able to express herself, if only a little. She could feel, even with the magic in the wall, the bricks were concerned and wanted to help. But The Throne, with its thousands of innocent men, women, and children, was no place for Kaitlyn to take down those emotional walls.

That dream she had begun having repeated itself, too. The dream that put her on the edge of a cliff, looking out over a beautiful valley watching Kraag slowing moving in the distance. Then she seizes control of the elements around her, wreaking destruction and havoc the world over as she expressed every emotion in her heart just until she woke up, her face red with tears she cried while asleep.

She had no idea what the Church was planning on doing with her, but Kaitlyn was prepared to just maintain this state that was as close to stability as she could find. Her musings were eventually distracted by a knock.

Knowing that whoever it was probably had a key anyway, Kaitlyn quietly called “come in.”

The tumbler in the door flipped and opened slightly. A young priestess stuck her head in and looked relieved to see Kaitlyn.

“Hello there,” the priestess said. “How are you today?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Kaitlyn muttered.

“I am Sister Maribel. I have been assigned as your interrogator.”

“It is nice to meet you. I’m sure you know my name already.” Kaitlyn turned to look at Maribel, her face stoic.

Maribel frowned. “Well, yes, Kaitlyn.”

“So what do you want to know?”

“Oh,” Maribel shut the door behind her to step fully into the room. “I will not be that kind of interrogator. I will be with you as a partner from now on until the Justicar’s sentence has been carried out.”

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The phrase hit harder than Maribel had intended. Kaitlyn’s sudden swing of the head and look of shock gave away that much.

“I’ve been sentenced? They never called for me.”

Maribel looked concerned. “Had you not heard?”

“I have not been out of this room for two days, Sister.”

“Well, this is pretty frustrating, and more than a little embarrassing,” Maribel said, as she checked to make sure the door was locked. “The council has been very shady in handling you and I do not like it one bit.”

Kaitlyn was taken aback by the sudden honesty from Sister Maribel. It was the first flicker of genuine relations Kaitlyn had seen since she had spoken to the council’s single layperson. “What do you mean?”

“They are going extremely fast in handling someone that tried to mitigate the damage being done. It is strange. I was just performing this duty down in Dawnbreak for a pirate that had murdered hundreds at sea. For her, the speed was understandable. The evidence was clear and the councils and Justicar had met long beforehand to discuss how to handle her if and when she was captured.

“But you? The speed and sloppiness are a little uncalled for if you ask me.”

Kaitlyn felt strange. On one hand, indignant she was supposedly being mistreated by the Church of the Will, the people who would decide her fate. On the other hand, she was so glad to finally meet someone who would speak clearly to her. Not use the lofty language full of double meanings that the Church of the Will traded so freely.

“What does it mean?” Kaitlyn asked her.

“Who knows,” Maribel said, sitting down in the chair for the writing desk and looking down at the floor. “I just got here in the Throne this morning. Barely had time to catch lunch with a friend when they came running down to get me and get us introduced.”

“I’m sorry I inconvenienced you,” Kaitlyn muttered.

“Oh Dreamer,” Maribel said, shocked. “That’s not what I meant. I’m so sorry. What I mean is that I am usually required to check in with my bosses before I get assigned to anything. That did not happen today. They really want to move this along. It has me frustrated. And concerned.”

“Well, what is the sentence?”

“They have recognized your guilt in the case of relic theft, but your innocence on the day The Throne was attacked. They appreciate your efforts in helping the day of the attack, but are unable to overlook the fact you attacked a Paladin of the Church and helped steal the Halcyon Band.”

“I understand,” Kaitlyn said, her eyes urging Maribel to continue.

“While the church feels that their punishments for relic thieves are too harsh for you, they are unable to compromise. And So they’ve decided to send you back to your tribe to be punished.”

Kaitlyn’s eyes widened at the words.

“Tomorrow, you and I will be on the road with a small retinue. Your tribe is currently East of Crossroads, near Kraag’s current location. And we will continue along until we reunite you with the nomads.”

“I can not go back, though. I married out of the tribe, so I am not part of them anymore. Does the Church not know our rules?”

“See, that’s what worries me. I would have thought the Council had already spoken to your tribe, but if they are just pushing decisions to look like they are handling things, there is a chance they did not.”

“I abandoned the tribe, then committed relic theft? They will kill me,” Kaitlyn urged.

“So will the Church of the Will.”

“Sister, I do not want to die for Matthew’s sins,” Kaitlyn said glumly.

“In that case, agree to the Church’s terms. Come with me on the road, and we can try to get to the bottom of this before any blood is spilt.”

“Any more blood,” Kaitlyn corrected.

“I know I am asking a lot,” Maribel began. “But will you trust me, Kaitlyn?”

“I have little else left, I suppose.”