The Tree of Black and White (The Shadowdancer Chronicles, Book Two)

Chapter Six

Amon ran his hand over the etching again and again. The stone was worn and weathered by time, and the carvings would have disappeared over such a span had they not been etched inside of the cave. It was dark in the cave, but Amon did not need light. He did not need a lot of things to survive, only a sense of purpose and the drive to see it fulfilled. It was true, he was afraid. Afraid of what would happen if he failed, of course, but also of what would happen if he succeeded. Lord Idris, his previous master, had taught him a great deal—even if Amon had lied about who he was and why he chose to serve the lord. There are things worse than the Vorai…

            He shuddered at the thought of the cowled creature, at the power he possessed. Amon had been alive for a very long time and he had learned a great many things, but most importantly, he had learned who not to cross. The Vorai, in all of their splendor, were no match for him—not that Amon was quite sure what he was, nor was he sure why he huddled away in the Ruech Tower as if he did not exist for the last thousand years.

            Amon’s purpose was clear. There was a Seeker that still lived; the final Seeker. Whatever the cowl feared, if it was indeed fear, could be found in the Seeker. His removal was the only thing that mattered. Amon had cursed himself that night in Dunmont when he had watched the Seeker kill his master. He did nothing but cower and hide. It had left an unpleasant taste in his mouth.

            His focus returned to the etching in the stone, he paused to marvel at its beauty. It was as detailed as any painting, yet was made in a way that he could not comprehend. He ran his fingers over the branches and all the way to the massive trunk.

            “The secret is with you, isn’t it?” He spoke to the carving, marveling in its perfection. “I only have to find you.”

            The sound of footsteps reached his ears long before they arrived at the cave entrance. He squinted his eyes in preparation of the eventual flame. The torchbearer had returned. Amon rose and moved to a forward chamber in the cave, shielding his eyes from the torch.

            “What have you discovered?” he asked the large figure.

            “Little.” The voice was more of a growl than anything else. “If they…near…they hide well.”

            Amon could not fault the speech impediment, for the brute of a man in front of him should have been dead. Apparently the fire took part of his tongue. Not to worry, the man had little need of speech any longer. He was alive for a single purpose, one that he would fulfill sooner rather than later.

            “There are more cities, closer to the coast. Go, now, and move quickly.”

            The man nodded and sauntered out of the cave, extinguishing his torch once he was outside. Amon frowned at the news. It simply did not make sense. It was true that the Fae were no match for their former glory, but they were not extinct, especially now that the Vorai had returned. There still had to be Fae people acting as Sages, there was simply no other possibility.

            Amon was not quite sure who he was arguing with, but the likelihood that the Fae went into hiding, though minute, would unravel his plans almost entirely. Without the Fae, there would be no way to locate the tree. The tree was the key to killing the Seeker. And, without the Seeker being destroyed, Amon could never be free.

            He cursed under his breath as he moved back to the stone carving. He ran his scarred hands upon its surface. He was almost certain that he felt…something, when he was near it, though he could not explain exactly what it was.

            For some reason the carving of the tree made him feel…alive again, which was impossible, of course, but it happened nonetheless.

            And then he thought to himself, what if the tree held that kind of power?