CHAPTER 6

It was raining the day the stranger arrived in Kalborne, a serious rain that meant business and which pelted the ancient forest with fat raindrops. Underneath the giant ganlaf trees, it didn't seem so bad for the enormous leaves collected most of the water and shed them gently to the forest floor. However, beyond their protective covering, in the fields and clearings where the villages lay, the tracks had dissolved into a thick, slushy mud.

Kremnos stood atop the parapet of the Kalborne Guard's fortress-like home in the rain, the water sliding off him as though he were slicked with oil. He wasn't happy with the job he'd been given, but he'd been chosen because the Abbot knew that he could easily find a way to stay dry in the storm. He was one of the few Remnants of the Guard, after all, and magic came easily to him.

Nevertheless, he didn't like it. He saw no point in watching and waiting for the carriage of yet another spoiled young nobleman. He would arrive, and they would know when he knocked on the gates. That should have been enough, but no. This nobleman was special. The Abbot had actually permitted him to join the rank of knights – informally, of course, but he would be the first outsider living and training and studying with them.

Kremnos couldn't see why.

He did what he was told, however, amusing himself by guessing what the visitor would look like. Hopelessly fat, perhaps, or a pale and sallow dandy like all the other young noblemen he'd seen visiting the main Temple of Kellan, hoping to catch the eye of a young priestess or making their usual shallow petitions for more gold, women, or fame.

After an hour and a half of such speculation, a carriage trundled into view and crossed the muddy field that was the Guard's expansive vegetable garden. It was a miracle it wasn't bogging down.

Kremnos made a face. It was him, of course. No sane person would be riding out in a storm like this, in such a fragile carriage.

He sighed and crossed carefully toward the bell tower and let the Abbot know, just as he had commanded.

Kremnos did not join the more curious members of the order in the Abbot's audience hall when the nobleman arrived. He lingered on the parapet a while then headed back to the dormitory, changing into the soft, deep green robes all the novices wore indoors. He had done the task the Abbot had assigned him and had no desire to meet the new arrival and shake his hand. What he wanted to do was find a sparring partner, go to the training room, and practice.

Unfortunately, the Abbot had other plans.

Four older knights were standing outside his room when he left it, and he sighed inwardly even as he covered it with a respectful bow.

"The Abbot wishes to speak with you," one of them said tonelessly.

Kremnos bowed again and wordlessly followed them through the compound. Once they reached the inner courtyard, the knights veered abruptly to the left, away from the audience hall.

Kremnos frowned, realising he was being taken directly to the Abbot's living quarters in a wing that, as far as he knew, novices were never invited to.

They stopped at a pair of ornate double doors, and one of the knights knocked.

"Enter," the Abbot's voice called calmly from within.

Two of Kremnos' escort took hold of the handles and ceremoniously opened the doors.

Kremnos blinked.

The doors opened into a large chamber, a library. It was only about a quarter of the size of the order's main library, but as the main library was the greatest in the world, it was still relatively large, and its books were finely bound.

Unlike the main library, however, this room was not grim and silent, and it didn't smell of stale air and mildewed parchment. It was bright and cool, and the silence was soothing rather than oppressive. A second pair of double doors at the far end of the room opened out into a bright little garden.

"Ah, Kremnos! Come in, come in!"

Kremnos turned his head to the left. The Abbot was sitting in a deeply cushioned chair in front of a wide table of rich, dark wood. Across him sat a boy Kremnos had never seen before.

The visitor.

Kremnos stepped forward, staring at him in open curiosity. Kremnos himself had just reached his twenty-first year, and the visitor looked a bit younger than that. He was not fat, as Kremnos had hoped, nor was he pale and sallow. He stood up politely and Kremnos saw that he was quite tall and somewhat slender, though his build was not at all fragile, as that of most people who were also tall and slender. His dark hair was a bit too long and hung low over a pair of bright blue eyes that stared back frankly at Kremnos.

The Abbot smiled amiably at the two of them. "Kremnos, this is... Lake. He will be staying with us for a while, and learn whatever he can." He turned to Lake. "And this is Kremnos, one of our finest novices," he added with a proud smile. "He's the only one without a roommate, so I hope you get along well."

Kremnos' expression froze, but he forced himself to begin a respectful bow.

"Please don't do that," Lake quickly said, a note of exasperation in his voice. "If anything, in this place, you far outrank me."

The Abbot laughed. "Well, Kremnos is two years your senior, and he's been in the order since he was seven years old. He can teach you much."

Lake turned and bowed low toward the Abbot. "Thank you for allowing me to stay here. I'm sure you think it is the foolish request of a spoiled child—"

"On the contrary," the old man interrupted, "I have heard much about you. Spoiled and foolish were never any of them. Whatever it is you hope to find, I hope you find it here."

Lake stared at him expressionlessly for a moment then smiled a small smile. "Thank you, Lord Abbot."

"Your things have been taken to your room. Kremnos, if you're not busy at the moment, will you show him around?"

Kremnos bowed again – this time to conceal a grimace. "As you wish, my Lord."

"You don't have to show me around if you don't want to," Lake suddenly said in a conversational tone. They were crossing the courtyard, sheltered from the rain beneath a narrow covered walkway.

Kremnos glanced back once at the wing they'd just left. There was no one in sight. "It is my pleasure to do as the Abbot commands."

"It was a request, not a command. You don't have to do it."

"I told you–"

"You guard your mind well," Lake interrupted casually. "But not your heart, and it is a much easier thing to read."

Kremnos stopped at once and turned to look at him more closely. "You're a Remnant."

"So are you."

Kremnos frowned at him. "I don't know where you're from, but around here, we don't just poke our noses into other people's business. Or their minds and hearts."

Lake inclined his head apologetically. "I didn't mean to. There aren't many of us here, are there?"

"Us?"

"Remnants, I mean."

"Such labels are not used here. We are all the same. But in answer to your question, no. There aren't many at all."

"But there must be a number of mages or sorcerers, if you've learned to guard your mind so closely, even though you neglected your feelings."

"It was never necessary." Kremnos sighed irritably. "Are you always this persistent and direct?"

Lake said nothing.

Kremnos turned away from him. "I'll take you to the refectory. It's time for lunch, anyway. After that, you can do whatever you please."