THE SEVEN FOLD CONVENANT

Smoke and Silver

Kaelen did not wait for Moran to finish gloating.

He grabbed Aldric by the coat and pulled him away from the window. "Back door. Now."

"There isn't one," Aldric said.

"Then we make one."

Kaelen scanned the archive. Stone walls, wooden shelves, one window too small to climb through quickly. The lantern on the table. The leather case in Aldric's hands. The fire outside, growing louder.

He made a decision.

"Give me the case."

Aldric hesitated.

"Give it to me or we both lose it."

Aldric handed it over. Kaelen tucked it under his arm and turned to the shelves along the eastern wall. They were old, but the wood was dry. He grabbed the lantern and smashed it against the lowest shelf.

Oil splashed. Flame caught.

"What are you doing?" Aldric said.

"Making a second fire. Moran will have to choose which one to put out."

The flames spread quickly. Smoke filled the room. Kaelen pulled Aldric toward the front door and cracked it open. The square outside was chaos. The storehouse still burned. Villagers were fleeing through the south gate. Moran's soldiers had spread out, rounding up anyone slow enough to catch.

Moran himself stood near the well, watching the archive.

"He's waiting for us to run," Kaelen said. "He wants the case, not a fight."

"Then we give him a fight."

"No. We give him a choice."

Kaelen pointed at the burning shelf behind them. "That fire will reach the roof in two minutes. When it does, this whole building goes up. Moran can stand there and watch us burn with the records, or he can send his men to save the archive. Either way, we move."

Aldric studied him for a moment. Then he nodded. "Your father would have liked you."

"Save it for later."

Kaelen shoved the door open. Smoke poured out ahead of them. He ran left, toward the well, away from Moran's line of sight. Aldric followed.

Moran saw them. "There! Cut them off!"

Two soldiers broke from the group and ran toward the well. Kaelen veered right, toward the southern gate. The villagers were mostly through now. Hessa stood at the gate, waving people on.

She saw Kaelen and pointed at the ridge behind the village. "The old mine! There's a tunnel!"

Kaelen did not ask questions. He grabbed Aldric's arm and ran for the gate.

A crossbow bolt cut through the air beside his head. He ducked, kept running. Another bolt hit the ground at his feet. Moran was not trying to kill him. He was trying to slow him down.

They reached the gate. Hessa was waiting.

"Go," she said. "I'll hold them here."

"You'll die."

"I'm faster than I look." She pulled back her sleeve. Kaelen saw the scars along her forearm. Old ones. Bite marks, healed over years. "I've been hiding what I am for thirty years. I can hide a little longer."

Kaelen wanted to argue. There was no time.

"Find us later," he said. "Grey Creek, the eastern road."

"I'll find you."

He ran.

The ridge behind the village was steep and covered in loose rock. Kaelen climbed with the case under one arm and his knife in the other hand. Aldric kept pace, surprising him. The older man was stronger than he looked.

They reached the top. Kaelen turned back.

The village burned. Moran's soldiers had formed a line at the south gate, but Hessa was not there anymore. Neither were the remaining villagers. The fire had spread from the storehouse to two more buildings. The archive roof collapsed in a shower of sparks.

Moran stood in the square, watching the ridge.

He did not order his men to pursue.

That worried Kaelen more than a chase would have.

"He's not following," Aldric said.

"I noticed."

"Why?"

Kaelen looked at the case under his arm. "Because he already got what he came for."

Aldric's face went pale. "The other documents. The ones in the archive. I only had time to take the most important ones. The rest were still on the shelves."

"Then Moran has the rest."

"Some of them. But the ones that matter are in your hands." Aldric pointed at the case. "Open it."

Kaelen crouched behind a boulder and unclasped the leather case. Inside were a dozen pages, yellowed with age. Handwriting he recognized. His father's.

He read the first page.

Night of the red moon. The Covenant representative arrived at the eastern border three days early. He was not alone. A second representative was with him. Unlisted. Unknown to the council. They met with a man in a gray coat. I do not know his name, but I know his seal. A serpent coiled around a broken crown.

Kaelen stopped reading.

The serpent and the broken crown. He had seen that seal before.

On his father's desk. Nine years ago. The night he died.

"This is why he was killed," Kaelen said.

Aldric nodded. "Your father found proof that someone within the Covenant was meeting with an unknown party. A party that was not supposed to exist. He was going to present the evidence to the council. He never made it."

"Who killed him?"

"I don't know. But I know who ordered it." Aldric met his eyes. "The same man who sent Moran tonight. The man in the gray coat. And he's not finished."

Kaelen turned the page. His father's handwriting grew hurried, slanted.

The second representative is not human. Not any race I know. I have seen his hands. They do not have the right number of joints. I do not know what he is. I do not know what he wants. But he is the one giving orders. The gray coat answers to him.

Kaelen looked up. "This is madness."

"This is the truth." Aldric took the page gently. "Your father died because he saw something he was not supposed to see. And now Moran has the rest of the records. He'll take them back to whoever is running this."

"Then we stop him."

"With what? Two men and a handful of pages?"

Kaelen stood. He looked at the village below. The fire had died down. Moran's soldiers were forming up, preparing to leave. Hessa was nowhere in sight. The villagers were scattered.

He had failed them. He had brought Moran here. He had given the enemy exactly what they wanted.

But he still had the pages. He still had the seal. And he still had a name.

"Aldric," he said. "You said you knew my father. Did he ever mention a man named Severin Voss?"

Aldric's expression changed. Just for a moment. Then it was gone.

"No," he said. "I've never heard that name."

Kaelen watched him. The hesitation had been brief, but it had been there.

Aldric was lying.

Kaelen did not say anything. He tucked the pages back into the case and started walking east.

"Where are you going?" Aldric called.

"Kaldren. My father's records were moved there. If there are more answers, they'll be in the archive."

"Kaldren is a five-day walk. Moran will beat us there."

"Then we find another way."

Aldric caught up to him. "There is another way. The old mine Hessa mentioned. It runs under the mountains. It comes out near Kaldren's eastern gate."

Kaelen stopped. "You know the tunnels?"

"I know a great many things your father never told you." Aldric smiled, and this time it looked genuine. "Let me prove it."

Behind them, on the ridge, a single figure appeared. Not Moran. Not a soldier.

A werewolf. Hessa, in her other form. She stood on four legs, breathing hard, blood on her muzzle. She looked at Kaelen and then turned east.

She was waiting for them.

Kaelen looked at Aldric. At the case. At the wolf on the ridge.

"Lead the way," he said. "But if you lie to me again, I'll leave you in the tunnel."

Aldric inclined his head. "Fair enough."

They followed the wolf east, into the mountains, as the sun set behind them.