Traitor's Moon

all.
    Sitting here, with a sword at his side, Alec at his back, a dangerous journey ahead, and who knew how many of his former countrymen seeking his blood, he felt at peace for the first time in months.
    â€œSo be it,” he murmured, drifting off at last.
    The dream had altered again. He was in his old room, but this time it was cold and dingy, full of dust. The shelves were empty, the hangings tattered, the plastered walls peeling and streaked with grime. A few toys and his mother’s painted screen lay broken on the floor. This was worse, he thought, overwhelmed with a grief that outweighed any fear. Weeping, he fell to his knees beside the sagging bed, waiting for the flames to come. Instead, the silence and chill increased around him as the light began to fail. Somehow, he knew the rest of the house would be just as empty and didn’t have the heart to investigate. He sobbed on, so cold that his teeth chattered. Exhaustedat last, he wiped his nose on the hem of the rotting comforter and heard the familiar clink of glass
.
    The glass orbs, he thought with a flash of rage that outmatched his earlier grief Springing up, he raised his arm to sweep them off the bed, then stopped, stunned to see them arranged in an intricate circular pattern, like a sunburst. Some were black; others glowed like jewels. The whole pattern was several feet across, and at its center a sword had been driven to the hilt into the mattress. He hesitated, fearful of disturbing the design, then pulled the blade free and watched in awe as it began to shift form. One moment it was the sword he’d sacrificed the day he’d slain Nysander, the next it had a pommel like a dark new moon. But others followed, other swords, and strange steel tubes with bent handles of bone or wood, each one streaked with blood. It ran down onto his hand in an ever increasing flow, staining the lines of his palm, dripping onto the bed
.
    Looking down, he saw that the orbs were gone; in their place lay a square black banner stitched with the same intricate design. The blood droplets still falling from his hand clung to the material and turned to ruby beads where they fell
.
    â€œIt is not complete, son of Korit,” a voice whispered, and suddenly he was engulfed in searing pain and darkness—
    Alec woke with a strangled curse when something hit him hard in the face. Momentarily blinded by the pain, he struggled frantically against the weight pressing down on his chest and legs. It disappeared, replaced by a blast of cold air against his sweaty skin. The bright, hot taste of blood at the back of his mouth made him gag. Touching his nose gingerly, he felt wetness. “What the hell—?”
    â€œSorry, talí.”
    It was still too dark to see Seregil, but Alec heard scuffling in the darkness, then felt a tentative touch on his arm.
    He spat in the opposite direction, trying to get the blood out of his mouth. “What happened?”
    â€œSorry,” said Seregil again. Alec heard more fumbling, then blinked at the sudden brightness of a lightstone. Seregil held it in one hand and was rubbing the back of his head with the other. “Looks like my nightmare woke us both up.”
    â€œYou can keep yourself warm next time,” Alec growled, trying with limited success to pull the remaining blanket around him.
    Seregil picked up the other and used a corner of it to staunchAlec’s nosebleed. His hands were shaking badly, though, and Alec pulled back to avoid further damage. “How long were we asleep?”
    â€œLong enough. Let’s move on,” Seregil replied, widened eyes betraying some of the confusion Alec could feel radiating from him.
    They dressed in silence, shivering at the unpleasant feel of damp wool and leather. Outside, the wind was still blowing, but Alec felt a change in the weather. Emerging from the hut, he saw stars showing through long rents in the scudding clouds. “Only an hour or two before dawn, I think.”
    â€œGood.” Seregil mounted and looped the lead rein of his spare horse around the saddle horn. “We should reach the first guarded pass about then.”
    â€œGuarded?”
    â€œMagicked,” Seregil amended, sounding more himself now. “I could get through it in the dark, but I wouldn’t want you doing it blindfolded. It’s a bit tricky in places.”
    â€œThere’s something for me to look forward to,” Alec grumbled, dabbing at his nose