Shadowdance 01 - A Dance of Cloaks

it!
the Lion roared.
On your knees, swear your life to me. I will have it no other way. Death is your fate, child. I see it clearer than you see the sun and moon. You will die by the hand of a friend if you resist my mercy. Beside me, you will rule Neldar as a demigod, and your son as king.
    Two paths. Two beings. Two minds. His father desired that first path, the easy path, one of bloodshed and murder. But the desire Robert Haern had kindled, the one Kayla had protected and Delysia nurtured, led away into deadly light. Each filled him with fear. Deep down, he knew which was right. He knew the choice he should make. But he was afraid.
    Choose!
roared the Lion.
Now, or I will burn away everything that makes you who you are, and deliver unto the priests an empty shell.
    He couldn’t choose. Terror overwhelmed him. Stars swirled in the darkness about the Lion, as if the very heavens circled the embodiment of Karak. Smoke billowed from its nostrils. Its eyes flared with impatience. The Lion opened its mouth and snarled. His time was up. The moment was gone.
    Aaron felt the roar wash over him, stronger than ever before. It felt like the world would shatter beneath its strength. His ears would never hear again. His eyes burned with tears. The breath in his lungs halted, and his heart beat wildly. Within his mind a fire raged, consuming all. The choice. There was only one. Aaron knew it. The fire was an altar, and he laid down his sacrifice.
    Everything that meant to be Aaron, to be the son of Thren Felhorn, to murder without guilt and devote everything to bloodshed and slaughter, he flung upon that altar. He openly welcomed the roar, now a cleansing fire. He let it destroy his fear. He let it obliterate his lack of remorse. It tore down his walls. In the midst of that roar, he laughed.
    “Let Aaron die,” he said. “Haern lives.”
    More phantom cuts lashed his arms and chest. The blood now flowed in the correct direction. Smoke poured into his lungs. His head swam, light and dizzy and free. His neck drooped. His eyes closed. A laugh still on his lips, he succumbed to unconsciousness as the Lion roared.
    “Come,” Pelarak said as he opened the door. Two more priests stepped inside, joining him in a small square room. The walls were bare and gray, the floor cool stone.
    “Were you successful?” one of the other priests asked.
    “He has seen the Lion,” Pelarak said. “None but the most faithful have done so and lived. When he awakes, his heart will belong to Karak. Of that I am certain.”
    “Praise be,” said the other.
    They carried the young man out of the room. Pelarak watched them leave, a frown on his face. Something felt wrong, but he couldn’t decide what. He hadn’t heard the words of the Lion, nor seen its vision, but he had felt its awesome power as he watched Aaron sob and cry on his knees. There was something unsettling about how Aaron had laughed at the very end.
    Determined to question Aaron when he awakened, Pelarak stepped out of the most holy of rooms. He’d devote an hour to prayer, then seek the sleep he most desperately needed. Perhaps things would seem better in the morning.

CHAPTER
29
    Y ou mustn’t stop,” Zusa insisted as the two ran. “The paladin will follow. He will always follow.”
    Alyssa nodded. Her breathing had become ragged, and her left side ached as if a dagger was lodged within. They’d run west, away from the camp and away from Veldaren’s walls. A few times they’d shifted direction, but only to avoid the hills that surrounded the area.
    “Where,” Alyssa said, feeling light-headed and unable to voice the rest of her question.
    “The river is near,” Zusa said. “We will use that as we must.”
    Alyssa did her best to keep up, but they had run for almost an hour after fleeing the Kulls’ camp. She’d never felt herself out of shape, but the exertion was beyond even her capabilities. She started stumbling, dragged on only by Zusa’s firm grip on her wrist.
    “Not far,” Zusa insisted. “Hurry. Not far at all.”
    The Kinel River ran south from the mountains, passing west of the King’s Forest and looping a quarter mile from Veldaren before traveling south, marking the western edge of the Kingstrip. Despite her aching sides, weak legs, and ragged breath, Alyssa managed the final few minutes to its edge.
    “We must get to the other side,” Zusa insisted. “The river is wide, but not deep. The paladin will cross, but slowly. The plate mail will hinder