Chapter 1

The team worked over the rubble on Dubarin hill while Kaidan Tadegan, leader of their expedition, picked over the far side of the hill, nearest the Rithian side. He worked with fervor but with care, not wanting to damage anything. The sun glared down on him, roasting him alive, and he wiped the back of his neck with a cloth. Who knows what we might find! Perhaps we’ll find some proof of the ancient lore about this place.

The hole he was digging had turned into an open-roofed tunnel that sloped gradually downward as he went. At around seven feet down into the side of the hill, his shovel struck something with a dull thud. He tested the soil with the tip of the shovel, trying to determine what it was. When he shifted some more dirt, he saw a flash of white under the sun. More bones? They’d found many bones on this site, an indication that the legends of the battle that occurred between the gods might have some merit. Still, so far, he hadn’t found any bones on this side of the hill, and he’d begun to think the battle hadn’t raged this far. Perhaps I just hadn’t found any yet.

Minutes later, he’d cleared the remaining layer of soil off to find the bleach-white bones of a corpse glaring up at him in the harsh rays of the sun. Kneeling down on his knees, he brushed the dirt away and grabbed a trowel, gently clearing packed clods of dirt and loose soil away from the corpse. When he had, he backed further up the slope and sat on his heels, staring down at it.

Inside the tunnel, the bones of the corpse rested. Time and worms had rotted through the clothing of the deceased individual. The slender facial structure of the skull and the tiny stature indicated it was a woman. He frowned. Who is this? All the corpses we’ve found so far have been of men and boys, not women.

A book lay locked against the corpse’s chest, her skeletal hands clutching it to her even in the rigor of death. He leaned down, seeking to pry it from the hands of the skeleton. The hands wouldn’t move, and he didn’t wish to snap the bones. Jumping down into the hole again, he tried to find a better angle so that he could slide it out of the corpse’s grasp.

This time, the hands relinquished their prize, and he stared down at the book’s unmarked leather cover, which was worn with age and crusted in dirt. He returned to the mouth of his tunnel and opened it with a frown. The book’s pages were stuck together with time and a dark brown substance, though they yielded with some gentle prying. Upon closer examination, he realized it looked much like dried blood. What have I stumbled across here?

“Kaidan? Kaidan, what are you doing over here?”

Kaidan looked up to find his wife Zerua strolling down the hill toward him. “Zer, look what I found!” He pointed to the grave site and waved the book.

She rushed to see, a smile lighting up her gray eyes. “What is it?”

“I think it’s some sort of burial site. It’s the first woman we’ve found buried here.”

“Any clues as to why she was buried here?”

He shook his head, hefting the book up onto the grass and clambering out of the hole where his ramp downward had begun. “Not yet. Let’s take a look at this book though. She was holding it.”

Zerua fingered the ancient leather. “This is in awfully fair condition for being buried thousands of years.”

“Outside maybe. I opened it briefly a moment ago, and it looks like there’s dried blood caked to it. It’ll be a wonder if we can get pages apart to read any of it.” He settled cross-legged on the ground beside his wife and pulled the book into his lap. “Let’s see what we have here...”

He eased the cover open, minding the brittle crackling of the paper as he did. The scent of iron still lingered on the pages, and he frowned, flipping past the first empty page to look at the next. “There’s writing on this one.”

His wife leaned over his shoulder, fingering the flaking black-brown substance. “How strange that this substance on the pages didn’t render it illegible.”

He stared at the first words on the page. Sedra cannot be trusted. She has lied to them all, but they do not know the extent to which she has deceived them. His gaze lifted to meet his wife’s wide-eyed gaze. “What have we found?”

***

By the light of the torches, Kaidan and Zerua examined the book and its words. “Who do you think it belongs to?” Zerua traced her fingers over the cover.

Kaidan batted her hand away with a snort. “I’d be able to tell me more if you let me brush all the dirt on this cover away.”

“Brush away then.” She held back and let him set to work cleaning the dirt off the book.

When he’d finished, the two of them stared down at the crest embossed on the leather of the book. He ran his fingers over the symbol. Two wings spread to either side with a strange sigil of lines and swirls in the center.

“What is that?” His wife pointed at it. “I haven’t seen that one before.”

Kaidan smiled. “Not often I know more about history than you, my love.”

She rolled her eyes. “You give me too much credit. Now, what is it?”

“This was the sigil of the royalty of the house of Rith. According to the stories, Rith and his two eldest sons died in the Battle of Dubarin Hill.”

“Yes... That’s why we’re here.”

“But the legends also claim that his wife fled with their daughter, the youngest of their children, and one or two other children also survived by fleeing the battlefield in the chaos.” He tapped the sigil. “This sigil is the symbol of the psyche, and the wings were supposed to represent the overshadowing of Rith’s protection of his kingdom. Queen Banach was said to have watched as Sedra hunted down and killed the last of her children. Supposedly, the woman went mad and spent the remainder of her life wasting away in a prison cell at Aghraban, what we now call Kier, the capital of Argos.”

“So... What is our corpse doing with a royal diary here in the hillside of Dubarin?” His wife frowned and began pacing the length of their tent.

Kaidan shook his head. “That, I do not know.”

“Who was this woman? Why would she have such a thing?” She spun to face him. “Is anything said in the legends about the diary?”

Kaidan shrugged. “Some tales say that Banach had a book in which she wrote prophecies. But it was lost with her when she disappeared.”

“Disappeared?”

“People say she died because one day, when she had reached her five-hundredth birthday, the guards found her cell empty. No one ever saw her again, though it’s said she haunts the ruins of her former capital, Ashkarith. Legend says that she is the reason everyone who goes into the city disappears or returns raving mad.” He shook his head. “As for why our mystery woman has this diary, I couldn’t say.”

Zerua sighed. “Well, only one way to find out. I suppose we’ll have to read everything in this to determine where it came from and whose it was.”

Kaidan sighed. “I suppose you’re right. There’s not much else we can do since the author didn’t leave their name in it.” He tucked the book under his arm. “But for tonight, it’s late. Shall we retire, my love?”

Zerua smiled up at him. “Indeed, we shall.”

He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders. “Zer?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think we should tell the others anything?” He bit his lip. “I can’t explain it, but I get the feeling we should keep this a secret.”

She hummed softly, a sign she was considering his question. “I have the same inexplicable feeling. For now, let’s keep this to ourselves.”

“Agreed. Do you think there’s more to the legends than people think?”

“We wouldn’t be out here if there wasn’t a chance of it.” She wrapped her arm around his waist.

“What we saw in the beginning of this diary...” He cleared his throat. “Zerua, those words are heresy. Always have been. To say that the goddess of magic lied or deceived the Originals is blasphemy.”

“I know.”

“Why would the writer claim this?”

Zerua clutched him closer to her and held the lantern higher. “I don’t know. But the sigil on the cover is from the House of Rith. The two siblings clashed all the time. The people of his house wouldn’t exactly be unbiased.”

“True. But what if they were on to something, Zerua? They had to have some reason for saying the things they did.” He gnawed on his lower lip. “It doesn’t make sense.”

They reached their tent, and she set the lantern down, pulling aside the tent flap for him. “I don’t know, darling. But we’ll find out, won’t we? We’ve found something, and that’s what we were here for. To prove what really happened in The Battle of Dubarin. To prove it happened in the first place. This book could be a good first step.”

He ducked his head and entered the tent. “I suppose that’s true. But it’s curious, isn’t it? A diary from this time period that claims the goddess everyone revers isn’t who she said she was. If that’s true, what else might be a lie about the myths and the beliefs from the old times?”

His wife ducked through the tent flap and set the lantern next to their bed roll. “Dangerous questions, husband.” She tugged the book from his hands and set it at the foot of their bed. “But right now, it’s time to get some sleep so we can face tomorrow with a brand new outlook.”

She’s right, of course. As always. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers with a sigh.

She released a guttural hum of approval, threading her fingers through his hair and pulling him closer. He let her soft lips and pliable form melt away the distractions and worries of the day. With her next to him, things would work out anyway. They always seemed to.

“I love you, you know.” He smiled down at her, trapping her legs between his.

She stroked his face, laughing when her fingers brushed over days’ old stubble. “I love you too. Even if you do need a shave.”

“You know you love the rugged look on me, though.” He settled his lips on hers, laying on his side and pulling her hips flush against his.

She laughed, kissing him back. “You know me too well.”

He slid his hands up her sides, letting himself relax and take his time with her. It had been too long since they’d had a moment to themselves like this thanks to the travel to Dubarin and the hard work, which left them exhausted each evening. Tonight, he wouldn’t let that stop him.

“You know, whatever we find out there, I’m sure it won’t change that much.” Zerua slid her hands along his chest then tugged at his shirt. “You and me... We’ll still be the same at the end. And we’ll have each other, no matter what.”

He grinned. “I need nothing more. Now, how about we finish what we started instead of getting distracted with that book?”

“Someone’s impatient.” She tugged his shirt up over his head.

“We haven’t had any real alone time since we set out on this expedition. What do you expect?” He pulled at the laces on the front of her tunic, tugging them free of their grommets. She squealed in surprise as her shirt was peeled off her and joined his. The cool air in the tent played over both of them, and he trailed his fingers over her shoulder with a smile.

“I couldn’t ask for a better wife, my love.”

“Nor I a better husband.” She lifted her lips to his, and talking ceased.