Xahn found himself at the top of a familiar hill where he had sprinted two days earlier. He recognized it instantly as the Crossroads. That seems like a lifetime ago, he thought as he stared at the pathways in the grassy field before him. And yet, I recognize everything. It feels different this time … comforting. Like going home. Although … I don’t actually remember the journey here.

  The great mountain framed by the ruddy light of the rising sun was on his right, as it had been on his first visit. The giant thunderhead flashed with lightning before him once again. And the second moon Maho’Ni was a crescent near the horizon on his left, just as it had been before, hovering over the great tree and the frightening, red-eyed specter of the Entity. This time, though, the fear was missing. Xahn was calm, breathing slowly and easily. There was no urgency to get away; no sense of being chased or of impending doom.

  A young woman in a fancy yellow frock dashed past him, her dark hair streaming behind her. Somehow a single blue moss flower sat undisturbed in her flowing locks. He almost didn’t recognize her.

  “Come on!” Dahn shouted over her shoulder as she darted away. “We have to save her!”

  “Save who?” Xahn yelled back, already scurrying to catch up.

  “Tern! The Entity has her!”

  In a few moments, Xahn ran side by side with Dahn. He felt strange, as if running were no different than walking or standing. He wasn’t out of breath and his body was not tired at all. And he discovered he was clothed in black cotton trousers and a full shirt of white linen.

  “Why are we both dressed up?” he shouted at his sister as they took off down the western road—the road that Tern had told him never to take.

  “I don’t know,” Dahn yelled back, looking down at herself. There was an expression of confusion on her face. “I’m not sure where we came from or how we got here.”

  “Are you certain Tern is with the Entity?” Xahn asked as they ran headlong towards the tall, robed figure that stood still in the twilight with only burning red eyes visible from within a dark hood. “I can’t see her.”

  “She let it take her instead of me when I was here before, so I could escape. I do remember that.”

  “Wait!” Xahn said, grabbing his sister’s arm and bringing them both to a skidding stop.

  “Why are we stopping?” Dahn demanded, roughly pulling her arm from his grip. “We have to get Tern and get out of here before that cloud of destruction comes in and wipes away our path home!”

  “I don’t see Ekatern with the Entity,” Xahn explained. “And we’ve been running as fast as we can … why aren’t we getting any closer?”

  “What are you talk…” Dahn began, hotly, then stopped suddenly as she looked around. She and Xahn were standing on the grassy pathway that lead westward, but they were only a few inches from where they started. It was as if they had never run at all. “What’s going on?” she whispered.

  “I’m not sure,” her brother replied, also very softly. Xahn looked around. “Have you noticed there’s no cloud behind us?” Dahn turned around and her eyes grew wide. “When you were here last time,” he continued, “did you feel like someone, or something was—”

  “Chasing me?” Dahn finished. “Yes,” she said, nodding. “I was terrified that something was about to catch me.”

  “And now?”

  “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

  The twins went silent and stood still. They remained that way for what seemed like a very long time. On a sudden impulse, Xahn reached down, grabbed a loose rock from the pathway, and hurled it with as much force as he could muster at the tall grass stalks on their right hand. Not a single blade was disturbed. There was no rustle as the rock passed through the plants, no thump as the stone hit the ground. Looking down at the road again, Xahn saw that the rock he had just picked up and thrown was still lying there.

  “I’m beginning to think we’re ghosts,” he told Dahn. “Maybe we died and ended up here. Maybe that’s why we’re both dressed so nicely. Maybe these are our funeral clothes.”

  “No,” Dahn said slowly, shaking her head. “That doesn’t feel right, either.” She passed her hand through the tall grasses near the pathway. The stalks bent as her hand went through them, but only for a moment. Then they sprang back into their original shape without so much as a twitch. “It looks like we do have some influence here, but it doesn’t last long. It is definitely not the same as last time—that much is certain.”

  “I summoned your souls here,” said a thin, high-pitched voice from all around them. The twins both whirled about, but neither could see anyone nearby. A swooshing noise started in the field to their left. Both twins gaped as blades of grass a few feet away weaved together on their own, first forming a thin trunk, then another, until the tops of the trunks wrapped around each other. The woven blades formed what looked like legs, a midsection, a chest. Grassy arms snaked out from the sides of the figure and a head grew out of the top of the newly formed shoulders. Green fibers on the thing’s face split, forming eyes, nostrils, and a mouth. Thinner blades emerged from the head in long waves, like hair. It looked like the poppets that Dahn and Xahn had made as children from the tough brown grasses that grew near their home. This one was person-sized, though, and very green. It did not stand still but writhed and twisted, making a rustling noise, as if it were blown by the wind, though there was none.

  “What … who are you?” Xahn managed to ask with a mouth that suddenly felt very dry.

  “I am a spirit,” the grassy being told them in a raspy, breathy voice. “I now reside in the Heart of the World, but once I lived on the surface as a human. My name was Suhan.”

  The twins were stunned into silence for at least a minute.

  “Mother?” Dahn breathed weakly, her voice full of tears.

  “Yes, my daughter,” replied the being in the field.

  Dahn broke into body-racking sobs. Xahn also felt tears running down his face.

  “Momma …” she called between her tears, “Momma … why?” the young woman demanded between irregular, labored breaths. “Why did … did you … l-leave us?”

  “Oh, my dear children,” the spirit of Suhan said sadly, sweetly, like a breeze on a summer night. “I did not leave you. I would never have left you. Never. I was taken from you by an illness that I did not understand … that no one understood. How I wish I had known what I now do, and I would be with you still. But that cannot be. It is not given to us to travel the roads of time as do the Eigeni. But they have shown me many things here in the Heart: details from my past that I never knew, the lives you two and your father have lived since I was taken, and many possible futures.

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  “I have a message of vital importance for you both,” the spirit of their mother continued before either of them could challenge or even fully comprehend her words. “Dahn and Xahn, my two sweet children, you are about to face many hardships and also many wonders. The Sisterhood of the Crystal Temple that our priestess Ekatern formed to look after you has a plan for your escape from the demonspawn. Neither of you must follow it. Their plan, though conceived in love for your protection, will be the undoing of Neworld.”

  The grassy figure turned its head toward Dahn. “My daughter,” she said in her wispy, windy-swept tone, “do not return to the temple to retrieve Ekatern’s crystal diadem. It is not for you. Instead, you will lead the people through the mines. But you must not go to Lolan, as the Sisters planned. There is another path—one that will take the people of Hylan farther and faster. A path which the demonspawn cannot take. Your destiny will require you to face the Entity, which will demand all the bravery and strength you can marshal.” The mouth slit in the green face twisted upward, like a smile. “Today, I witnessed you running towards the Entity. You tried to save Ekatern with no thought for your own safety. Your bravery and your strength are more than sufficient for this task, despite your youth. Dahn, my tender-hearted child, you will need your father on your side to accomplish this. If he questions you, tell him the High Queen of Dash commands it.” Her grassy eyes narrowed. “Protect the baby boy. He holds one of the keys to the future.

  “Xahn, my extraordinary son,” Suhan said, turning towards him. “The path I set you on is not your sister’s. The two of you must part ways and you will have no time to say goodbye. But you will not travel alone. You will be protected by a Daughter of the Second Moon, by M’Randa the Wandering Woman, and by the Sword of Heaven itself. Your lineage and your upbringing have Endowed you with power. You are the first such male since Maho’Ni, over five millennia ago. Ekatern’s crystal diadem is for you. You must retrieve it before the Goblin Horde takes the temple. Trust your protectors. Trust the Fallen. Trust your visions. But do not trust the kings and queens of this world!

  “My children,” Suhan’s spirit whispered with love. “I do so wish I could take you in these grassy arms, but none of us has a physical form here. You need to know that I could never love anyone or anything more than you. In your short lives, you have made me so proud. The world depends upon you now. Without you, Neworld will descend into a vile darkness you cannot imagine. That is a lot to put on the shoulders of two young people, I know. But there is no one else who is even remotely qualified to perform these tasks. It rests upon you … and I know you can do it, even if it seems impossible. Even if it feels as if the universe is against you. Even if you think you cannot go on. You—can—and—you—will—succeed!

  “You two will meet again, though you will both be much older when you do. And I shall see both of you again in the Heart of the World.”

  And with that, the grassy form of their mother unraveled and faded into the field, as if she had never been.

  Xahn looked at his sister and tried to say, “I don’t want to leave you!” He could see the same longing in her eyes. She reached out to take his hand and he reached for her. But before they could touch, the Crossroads faded and Xahn felt as though he were falling through a dark hole, devoid of all light and sound. Slowly, light began to seep into his sight. Just a gray mass at first, then gradually there was more definition. Along with his vision, he heard sounds like the clash of metal and the crash of wood and glass.

  He found himself standing in the Great Hall, surrounded by overturned tables, scattered dishes, food, glass, and pieces of brick and stone. The beautiful stained-glass windows overhead were shattered and a sound like a shrieking whirlwind echoed all around him. Amidst the ruin were dozens of what appeared to be large animals and their … parts. Lizard heads as large as wagons, clawed hands the size of mining carts, bat-like wings wide enough to cover the enormous dining tables. All of them were oozing a black fluid that didn’t look like any blood Xahn had ever seen.

  Standing on the table beside him—one of the few that was still upright—was Gabriella the Minstrel, though she was now dressed in armor, like a warrior. She held a brilliantly lit yellow sword and faced … something very large. It was ugly, gray, incredibly smelly, and gulped in its breaths in noisy, sloshing gasps. On the back of this stinking monster was a cleanshaven man in filthy white robes wearing what looked like a metal helmet. Gabriella turned to look at Xahn and he stared at her, open mouthed.

  “About damned time you came to your senses!” she shouted at him. “We need to go!”

  “Neither of you is going anywhere,” said the mounted man. His voice was not only very deep, but it sounded odd, like it was being made by a defective musical instrument of some kind.

  “More than fifty-three hundred years ago, on this very night,” Gabriella shouted, defiantly, “I faced down you and your master and all your brothers and sisters. And under three full moons at midnight, I defeated you. What makes you think I can’t do it again? Look outside!” She swung her sword toward a broken window, wide open to the night sky. Jared was full. Beside it, Maho’Ni was also full. And cresting the horizon was the third moon, smallest of all, but as full and bright as it could be.

  “My memory is dim, thanks to you,” said the man on the monster, rubbing one hand over his smooth metal helmet. “But I seem to recall your brother Jared—a huge man and a great warrior—was with you that night. And your husband, Maho’Ni. And eight of the Fallen. None of them are here now to protect you.”

  “How much of this world’s lore did you learn while you were in prison, watching us from the sky?” the minstrel with a sword asked, taunting the man on the monster. “The largest moon in the sky, they call that one Jared. The second largest moon is called Maho’Ni. And do you have any idea what they call the little one? They call it the Wandering Woman. He we are … all of us together again … on this night. Facing you down.”

  “You will never win,” the mounted man said with a sneer. “Every demonspawn you defeat will be taken back to the budmother to be consumed and reborn. No matter how often you beat us back, we will always return with more and more troops. Especially now that we have more food for her.”

  “You don’t know what this is, do you?” asked Gabriella, holding the sword a bit higher.

  “I know it is not really a sword.”

  “You are correct,” the warrior woman told him. “It can be used as such, but it is not. I am M’Randa, the Soul of the Vessel. This is the Sword of Heaven, and it is the Mind of the Vessel. Though her body is destroyed,” M’Randa continued, her voice growing louder, clearer, and more powerful as she spoke, “together we remain Her Mind and Soul!” The glow of the Sword suddenly expanded and surrounded her. She appeared to grow several feet taller, her muscular body swelling until she stood eye-level with the man on the beast.

  “The Vessel lives Valen!” she said with such force the walls and even the floor shook. “She lives!”

  “Come on, kid, it’s time to get out of here,” said a quiet voice from Xahn’s side. The young man jumped and looked toward the sound. It was Gabriella … M’Randa. She grabbed his arm and dragged him out the Great Hall and into the main hallway.

  “But you’re still…” Xahn started, as the dark-skinned woman pulled him after her.

  “It’s an illusion,” she said. “I’m buying us time to get away.”

  As they dashed down the hallway, they both heard Valen’s voice, deep and distorted, echoing about them. “And I am here to tell you, Mind and Soul of the Vessel,” he sneered, “that you are not the only ones who survived. Nilrem lives, M’Randa. Oh yes. He is very much alive!”

  M’Randa missed a step, an expression of disbelief on her face. Then she caught herself, pulled Xahn even harder and ran even faster. Xahn could see, far ahead, the last of the Hylan villagers were moving through a large doorway and into what was obviously the mine. They had just the length of that hallway to run and they would be with them, moving toward safety. But just as they were about to reach the entrance to the mines, the walls around them collapsed in an explosion of rocks, brick, mortar and wood. The Wandering Woman skidded to a stop, turned her back on the flying debris and pulled Xahn to her to keep him from being hit.

  When the rubble stopped moving, both Xahn and M’Randa were covered with a fine layer of white dust. She slammed her fist into the wall of rubble blocking their way and shouted a word Xahn did not recognize—he assumed it was a curse. Next, she stood directly before the blockage and screamed at it with all of her might. She breathed heavily for several moments. Stunned, Xahn could not do much more than stand there. Finally, the Wandering Woman sighed heavily and began brushing the debris from her hair and clothing.

  “Not again,” M’Randa muttered. “I just got clean from the last dirt bath. You alright?” she asked Xahn. He nodded.

  “Well,” she said with a sigh. “I suppose this means we are not going through the mines. And we have demonspawn chasing us on this side as they will chase the Hylanders on the other. There is only one other way out for us,” she said, looking directly into Xahn’s eyes.

  “We are heading to the Font.”