Madam Toreg reeled and Garek barely managed to catch her before she hit the table. The woman brushed Garek back then stepped forward to extend an open hand, her eyes locked on the hammer.

  Corvan reluctantly released it into her grasp. He considered telling her that it had belonged to his grandfather but that might only cause more problems. She was a bit too intense and Jorad was still dabbing at the corner of his mouth.

  Cradling the hammer in her hands, Madam Toreg examined it carefully, the glow highlighting the growing excitement on her face. “So, the old stories were true,” she said in a hushed tone. “The hammer exists, it’s not just a concept.” Grasping it by the angular head, she pointed the handle overhead, its light bringing the paintings into sharp relief. As she rotated the projected symbols into position, Corvan could see the same marks running between two golden bands that surrounded the faces above them. “The words above were painted from memory long after the hammer was lost to us,” Madam Toreg said. “I often wondered if they were correct.”

  Corvan stared up at the words. “What do they say?”

  “Three words flow between the circles: Truth, Mercy, and Justice. Those are the attributes that a true Cor-Van must possess to lead the Cor back to the light.” She looked at him from under thick eyebrows. “The legends also say those are the qualities of the one who will return the hammer to us.”

  Corvan avoided her eyes. “I don’t understand how it works. At times it heals me and other times it hurts me. Sometimes it does what I expect, and then it does nothing at all.”

  Madam Toreg directed the glow onto Corvan’s chest, but the blue words were fully absorbed into the grey cloth of his grandfather’s cloak. She frowned, then pointed the light onto the floor between them. “The hammer only has power when held by those who have integrity, those who stand against injustice. It helps people know what is right and supports them as they seek to find the truth, and to speak the truth, but it cannot be used as a weapon.”

  “And yet the Chief Watcher seeks it,” Jorad said.

  “The Chief Watcher knows the hammer in Kadir?” Madam Toreg turned quickly to Jorad and the priest took a step back.

  “I cannot say for certain that he knows, but Rayu was the one to report it, and now he’s gone missing. The Chief of the Watchers is an ancient creature and no doubt aware of the stories of how the hammer was taken from the Cor. I believe that is why he took the portal key from Tarran. He intends to go looking for it.” Jorad glanced at Corvan then gestured to the blue words on the ground. “But why would he even want the hammer if it judges truth. That creature is the epitome of lies and deceit.”

  Madam Toreg sighed heavily. “Our people are in dire circumstances; they desperately need to believe someone is telling them the truth and will make things better. If the Chief Watcher can convince the people of Kadir he possesses the truth, even in symbolic form, he can easily manipulate them to follow his new religion and give him whatever he asks.”

  Corvan’s head swam. There were too many bits of information being tossed about that he couldn’t fit together. If the hammer was truth, what was the medallion? Earlier, he’d thought it was compassion, and that was similar to mercy, but where did justice fit in? It must be the third item his grandfather had mentioned in his letter.

  “How could the Chief Watcher even hold the hammer?” Corvan asked. “I have experienced how it punishes those who lie.”

  Jorad raised his eyebrows at Corvan’s implicit confession but said nothing.

  Madam Toreg gave Corvan a look that reminded him of Mrs. Thompson repeating a basic math problem he couldn’t grasp. “If an evil person shields himself from the truth in some manner, he will appear to others as if he’s connected to it, but that is just another deception. You must examine that person closely to see if the hammer is freely held in their hands, but deceivers never let others get that close to them.”

  “That evil creature will use the hammer to destroy hope,” Jorad said. “Hope gives people ideas, and then they search for the truth. If he can destroy hope, the people will willingly follow his plan for Kadir and eventually the whole Cor.”

  Madam Toreg nodded. “I have seen changes lately that suggest larger plans and forces are at work. Older and deeper things are stirring. Who in Kadir thought we would see the Rakash walk freely through our city?”

  A chill went through Corvan at the name. “Who are the Rakash?”

  Madam Toreg turned to him. “Some call them the Sightless. Others call them Seekers. Not many use their true name, Rakash, for we all avoid the reality that an ancient evil is seeking to gain control of our world.”

  “I think I saw them,” Corvan said. “Are they the four blind creatures who serve the Chief Watcher and carry him in the palanquin?

  “Those four are not his servants,” Jorad stated. “I believe they were sent here to keep an eye on the Chief Watcher, and they have their own ways of seeing. Their senses have been heightened to the point where, I am told, they can even sense the heat from our bodies. It’s impossible to hide from them. I understand they came from . . . ”

  A girl ran in from the shadows under the circular balcony. She was the youngest Corvan had seen so far, likely a year or two younger than him. Her shoulder-length red hair swayed around an intense face while the hem of her blue tunic swished above the floor. A short sword thumped at her waist as she tore up to the table.

  “Garek,” the girl said breathlessly, leaning on the table edge, “a company of palace guards is scouring the ruins out front.”

  “In the darkness?” Jorad asked incredulously. “On the broken side of the city?”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “The soldiers are being guided by one of the Seekers,” she replied, a strong note of fear in her voice. “They are trying to find a way inside the library.”

  “They must have followed us from the temple. I should have been more careful.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Madam Toreg said. “The Seeker can track anyone as long as they have something the person has held closely. I do not see how it could be any of us in this room, unless …”

  They all turned to Corvan, and the old woman’s eyes bored into him.

  The red-haired girl had been staring at Kate laying on the table, but she looked up at Corvan. “The Seeker carries a white scarf.”

  Corvan nodded and swallowed hard. “I, I left it behind when I escaped from the prison. I didn’t have time to go back and get it.”

  “You were wearing a white scarf?” the girl asked with raised eyebrows.

  “It was a gift,” Corvan replied, avoiding her eyes.

  “I understand that if you can deny any connection to the giver,” Madam Toreg said, “the Seeker may be unable to locate you. Can you do this?” She studied his face.

  Corvan turned his thoughts to Tyreth. He recalled her pain when the lizard slashed her cheek, and his heart ached for her. He remembered how she had touched his face and the scent of her scarf. Tyreth was courageous and determined to help others, how could he possibly pretend he’d never met her? How could that work anyway? Most likely the Rakash was tracking him by his scent from wearing the scarf.

  Madam Toreg came close and touched his cheek. “I see you cannot turn your back on this person. It is a good thing to care for others.” Madam Toreg turned to the girl. “Go wake the mayor and have him come to meet me at the front gate. We will have to fight the soldiers in the streets of Kadir and draw them away from the refuge.”

  The young girl nodded and ran from the room. Madam Toreg turned to Garek. “How long before the lumiens brighten?”

  “One more segment,” Garek said.

  “You and your men must act quickly. We need the soldiers’ fear of the Broken working for us.”

  Garek shook his head. “Our tricks and false voices will not fool the Seeker.”

  “Then we have to kill him,” one of the other grey men said.

  “That’s not possible,” Garek replied. “Nothing can kill the Rakash.”

  “That can.” Madam Toreg pointed to the black knife on the floor. “It was done in the past, when the cloak of deception that allowed their leader to move undetected among us vanished. Our City of Refuge was saved from discovery and devastation at that time by a great man.” She wagged a finger at Corvan. “I have been informed the remaining four Rakash have chosen a new leader. If he is the one coming our way, then what he truly seeks is the return of the cloak.”

  Corvan resisted the urge to twist the buttons on his grandfather’s garment. Breaking Madam Toreg’s steady gaze, he instead bent to pick up the knife.

  As he straightened, everyone took a step back.

  Corvan unbound the sheath from his forearm and put the blade inside. Madam Toreg looked on in admiration until he stepped forward and laid it on the table. She frowned, and he stepped away in embarrassment. Surely, she didn’t think he would use the knife to fight the Rakash?

  “There is another way.” Jorad stepped up to the table and gazed down at the knife. “The Seeker believes he follows Tarran, but to capture him, he will need the help of the palace guard. Send your grey men to frighten the soldiers, throw them into disarray, and buy us some time. I will lead Corvan out to the settlements along the river road; beyond where the Seeker can find him.”

  “Then we must send this with him.” Madam Toreg held out the hammer to Corvan, and her brown eyes searched his face. “None of us here can protect it. Since you brought it to us, you must carry it on from here. In time, it will reveal your true purpose.”

  Corvan reluctantly took the hammer and snapped it back into the holster. Ever since he’d found the hammer, it had only taken him farther from his family and from safety. He and Kate would never escape from this nightmare unless someone else took responsibility for it. Besides, he had no desire to find any other purpose beyond taking Kate home.

  “Jorad’s plan has merit,” Garek said, the grey coating on his face wrinkling as he spoke. “But let us make use of our preparations at the lower bridge. We weakened it to collapse it in the event of an attack from across the river by the rebels. Instead, if the seeker and the soldiers find where we have gone, we can pull it out from under the them. Perhaps the river will sweep the Rakash back to his master.”

  Madam Toreg looked to Corvan. “Is it permitted to do such a thing to defeat evil?” Everyone else turned to stare at him.

  Corvan looked at their faces. Was he expected to decide just because he held the hammer? He waited, but no one spoke up. “I would think that … since these people sent the water to kill your families and children … maybe falling into the water themselves might teach them a lesson?” It was more a question than an answer, but the expressions on their faces indicated it was the affirmation they required.

  “So let it be,” Madam Toreg said as she turned to Garek. “You and the others frighten the soldiers away. I will take these two through the new city to the water outlet under the bridge. Signal us when the Rakash begins moving in that direction.”

  Three of the grey men turned toward the small door. They blended into the darkness then vanished from sight against the stone wall of the library. The small door appeared to open and close of its own accord.

  The remaining grey man, Garek, laid a hand on the old woman’s shoulder. “Madam, although you are a founder of the City of Refuge, if you bring untested strangers through, the mayor and the elders will rightly accuse you of breaking the community commitments.”

  “I will bear that responsibility.” She smiled and patted his hand. “But I thank you for your concern.”

  He bowed low and slipped away toward the exit.

  The old woman went to the table and cupped Kate’s cheek in her hand. “She is fading quickly and there is no need to put her in danger by taking her across the river. You two can lure the seeker away from us. She can stay in the refuge and our healer will attend to her until you can safely return.

  Corvan shook his head. “I won’t leave Kate behind and risk losing her again. She comes with me.”

  The old woman straightened and searched his face. Corvan steadily returned her gaze.

  “I will allow this,” she said, “for I know this girl does not belong in our world.” She looked back at Kate lying on the table. “If she does not soon return to her sphere, she will most certainly die.” Her eyes narrowed, and she came closer. “You, on the other hand, may yet belong to this world, or perhaps this world will belong to you, as our Cor-Van.”

  “But I’m not—”

  She jabbed a thick finger into his chest. “Do not think for a moment that I do not understand what is possible for you to become, either for our salvation or for our destruction. That is a choice you have yet to make.” She patted the hammer at his side and gave him a wry smile. “May your desire for the truth be guided by compassion.”

  Picking up the broken piece of her cane, she headed for the door and Corvan noticed she walked just fine without it. Raising the front of Kate’s litter off the table, he pulled it to the front edge. There was a short pause before Jorad picked up his end, then they followed Madam Toreg.

  Corvan glanced back.

  The black knife was gone from the table.

  Jorad was obviously not afraid of touching it.