“No,” Dain said. “No! Please, I swear to you that—”

“We do not want your oaths,” Potanderzin said with a sneer. “The king has bade you go. In the name of courtesy, do as he asks. Or must you be forced out?” From the corner of his eye, Dain saw Alexeika stiffen and reach for her daggers.  Not wanting violence, Dain held up his hand. “Wait!” he called out, as much to her as to Potanderzin. “I will go, but I ask one last question.” Potanderzin looked as though he would refuse, but Kaxiniz gestured to Dain.

“Speak.”

“Could I draw the poison from Pheresa?” Dain asked. Alexeika gave an involuntary start, but he ignored her and kept his gaze firmly on Kaxiniz. “If I were shown the gifts of healing, could I save her?”

Emotions shimmered in Kaxiniz’s eyes, but he gave Dain no answer.  Alexeika gripped his sleeve. “You’ll die,” she said fiercely. “If you attempt such a thing, you will kill yourself. What good to us is that?” “It would clear a debt,” Dain said stubbornly. “One life for another. Isn’t that right, Grandfather?”

Kaxiniz’s face had lost all color. Even his curls stopped moving. “No,” he said hoarsely. “No!”

“Teach me this skill,” Dain said. “I was too young to remember where my father hid the Chalice, so I cannot bring it forth from hiding to heal many who suffer.  I can think of no other way to save Pheresa’s life. Even if you think I am wrong, she is my friend. I have to save her, no matter what the cost!” “And do you understand the cost?” Potanderzin asked him fiercely. “Do you?”

“Yes,” Dain said. “My life for hers.”

“No,” Alexeika moaned, but Dain ignored her.

“With you will die the true line of Netheran kings,” Kaxiniz said. “The chain of descendants from Solder will lie broken forever.”

Dain flinched slightly at that, but he did not yield. “I am sorry,” he said. “I was not raised to preserve kingdoms, but instead to keep my word. And I gave it to—” “Foolish boy, consider more than your own boastful arrogance!” Kaxiniz broke in.  “Long, long ago in the time of the ancients, Solder did dare to intervene in the Battles of the Gods. Partly because of his courage and valor, Ashnod and the lesser dark gods were defeated. The mortals who worshipped them became the first Nonkind, and all were driven far across the Charva into a desolate place that we now know as Gant.

“In reward, Thod made Solder first king over Nether and entrusted him with the Chalice of Eternal Life and many secrets of power and magic to enable him to rule long and well. This, Faldain, is your heritage. This is your beginning.” Dain frowned. He dared not interrupt the old eld, but so far nothing Kaxiniz said had changed his mind.

“Since that dawning of time, Ashnod has focused on one primary objective.”

“Revenge?” Dain said impatiently.

Kaxiniz frowned at him in severe disapproval. “It is Ashnod’s will that Solder’s line be broken forever, crushed from existence. The Chalice of Eternal Life is to be either destroyed or else lost for all eternity. Nether is to sink into the darkness and be consumed by evil. Why do you think Muncel was befriended years ago by agents of the Believers? Who do you think dripped the poison of jealousy into his ear, day after day, until he actually struck against your parents?” Dain dropped his gaze, ashamed of his earlier flippancy.  “Hear me,” Kaxiniz said. “When Tobeszijian was forced from his throne and vanished, never to return, evil took great strides against us. Your father condemned his realm to death when he removed—” “He had to,” Dain said in automatic defense of his father. “He couldn’t let it fall into their hands.”

Kaxiniz’s face twisted with bitterness. “Your father was a brave warrior in battle. The rest of the time he was a fool who did not think ahead. He reacted.  He never planned. Time after time, I warned Nereisse of the dangers, yet Tobeszijian would not heed them.”

“Anyone can make mistakes,” Dain said. “Why can you not forgive his?” “Because he carelessly allowed himself and his entire family to fall into the enemy’s hands.”

Dain’s head lifted in contradiction. “Nay, he kept my sister and me from harm.

We were well-hidden until this year.”

“Too well-hidden,” Kaxiniz said bitterly. “He could have brought you to my keeping, but he did not. Despite his eld blood, he did not trust me with your welfare. Now you stand here, looking brave and manly, yet how ignorant of the true situation you are. By hiding you from your own heritage, Tobeszijian played once more into the enemy’s plans. To some Netherans you are a myth, a savior whose eventual return has been foretold. To others, you are nothing at all, for they do not believe in you. To us, you are disaster.”

“Hear me! Your coming is likely too late, but if you do nothing except go questing to save a foreign girl whose destiny has no place in Nether, then you finish Ashnod’s work for him.”

“I gave her my word,” Dain said stubbornly.

Kaxiniz’s stony gray eyes bored into him. “When?” he asked sharply. “Before or after you learned your true identity?”

Dain frowned. He had the feeling that Kaxiniz already knew the answer to his question, yet Dain knew he was expected to reply. “After.” “Aye, after,” Kaxiniz said with a nod. “After you knew you were required to be elsewhere.”

“Nether has grown dark indeed,” Dain told him coldly. “For I see that the eldin have come to despise kindness.”

Kaxiniz stared at him a long moment before he shook his head. “Alas, kindness is not despised, but the good of many must come before the good of one. Has no one taught you this?”

Dain refused to answer.

Kaxiniz sighed. “It would seem you are exactly like your father.” “Am I?” Dain retorted with heat, wondering what the old eld would say if he knew how strongly Tobeszijian’s vision had urged him to return and rectify his mistakes by fighting for the throne. “Then I am proud to be like him. He kept the Chalice from danger.”

“But at the cost of his kingdom’s well-being!” Potanderzin burst out, as though he couldn’t keep quiet any longer. His eyes were blazing. “The land has grown tainted and foul. We eldin can no longer heal it, for Muncel’s evil has destroyed the Tree of Life that we worship. If you throw yourself away on a cause that does not belong to you, who will restore the tree? Who will restore the Chalice? Who will restore the kingdom?”

Dain’s face was burning. He glared back. “You revile me in one breath and beg me to save you in the next. Is this not the way of men, and far beneath the honor of the eld-folk?”

Potanderzin reached for his dagger, but quickly Kaxiniz rose to his feet and stepped between them.

“You hide here, fearing foretellings that may or may not come true,” Dain said in disgust. “Yet what do you for the cause? Will you come forth and fight the evil? Or am I supposed to do it all alone?”

Kaxiniz faced him with stony dignity. The expression in his gray eyes was terrible to behold. “When you have proven yourself a king, you may criticize us.  Not before.” He pointed a trembling finger at Dain. “Go from us. Go!”

Dain bowed to the old king, his anger like something alive in his chest.  Tight-lipped, he took no farewell and gave no other courtesy, but simply turned on his heel and strode away.

Potanderzin hurried to catch up with him. “I will lead you back to the bridge.”

“No need,” Dain said angrily. “I can follow the path.”

“You are blind and foolish,” Potanderzin said. “Just like your father. You are unworthy of Solder’s heritage.”

“Thank you,” Dain said through his teeth, “for repeating the old king’s words. I would not want to forget them.”

“Perhaps repetition will break through the stone of your stubbornness.”

Fuming, Dain followed Potanderzin back along the village path to the bridge.  There, he hesitated, seeking one last way to appeal to his cousin’s sense of mercy.

But Potanderzin gave him no chance. He pointed at the bridge. “Go from here, and do not return.”

“My blood is pale,” Dain said resentfully. “Just like yours. We’re kin, whether you like it or not.”

“Until you are worthy, you are no kin of mine.”

“Worthy?” Dain shot at him. “Worthy of what? My throne? How dare you judge me like this. You have closed your minds, without giving me a chance.” “We have seen what is to come,” Potanderzin intoned.

“Aye, so you keep saying, but what do you intend to do about it?”

“Do?” Potanderzin said blankly. “What can be done?” “When you can answer that question, perhaps at last you will be worthy to sit on our grandfather’s throne.”

Potanderzin’s eyes narrowed. “Do not mock me. This war against Ashnod has nothing to do with the folk of eld.”

Dain snorted. “Of course not. Yet you hide.”

“You were born under great auspices to sit on Nether’s throne. It is your responsibility to guard the Chalice, to keep back the powers of darkness. We are not required to help you.”

“Clearly,” Dain retorted. “You hide here in your enchanted wood, safe from Muncel’s army, safe from Gantese assassins. You criticize me yet take no risks yourself. I wonder you do not slaughter me to prevent this betrayal I’m supposed to commit.”

“Great Thod, no!” Alexeika said in alarm.

Dain went on glaring at Potanderzin. “Or do you intend to strike me down after I cross this bridge?”

“You speak evil insult,” Potanderzin said through his teeth. His hands were clenched at his sides. “We eldin are not assassins.”

“No, indeed. Your destiny has been foretold; therefore, you will fold your hands like old women and make it come true. Why not help fight the darkness? Why not seek to restore this Tree of Life you count so high?”

Potanderzin’s amber eyes narrowed to slits. He glared at Dain in silence.  “Yes, I thought so,” Dain said with contempt. “You will do nothing. I may be wrong, as my grandfather has said, but at least I am no coward.” “Go from here,” Potanderzin said furiously, and the flowers blooming next to the path withered and died as he spoke. “You understand nothing. Nothing! Go and do not come back!”

Dain shot him a final steely look. “I am ashamed,” he said, “to know you are my kin.”

Potanderzin stiffened, but Dain turned away from him and stepped onto the bridge.

Instantly the light and warmth vanished, and all was dark and bitterly cold once more. Dain strode across, his boots echoing on the rough planks, and stepped off between the carved beyars.

He found the other eldin riders gone. Only a lingering scent of rank beyar musk remained on the frosty air. Soleil, nickering a welcome, stood tied to a tree.  Dain untied the reins and waited in the darkness, fuming, as Alexeika crossed the bridge and hurried to join him.

“Your majesty,” she said quietly, her voice holding a mixture of sympathy and pity, “I’m sorry—” “Yes, thank you,” he said, cutting her off. He wanted no comforting. He was too angry, too resentful. His eldin relatives had condemned Pheresa to death, and he would never forgive them for it. “Let’s find the others and go from here.” But Alexeika blocked his path. “I’m sorry I had to hear of your shame,” she said. “I swear I will never speak of it.”

“Shame? What say you?”

She was only a shadow in the darkness, lean and straight and stalwart. Her hair and skin smelled of frost. “This awful thing that you will do—” “I will not betray them!” Dain said angrily. “Gods! Is this your belief as well, that fate comes to us as an assignment we cannot escape?”