It took until the last glimmer of twilight to find our horses. Not that I blamed them for running away. We trudged on through the night, rather than risk the appearance of any more Chort that may have been attracted by the fight. Silvery moonlight provided just enough illumination on our path to make our way, while the surrounding hills appeared as dark silhouettes against an infinate starry sky.

My head bobbed as we continued, and the steady motions of my horse lulled me into shallow sleep.

A voice came to my lucid dream. Tomas, are you there?

Relief came over me like sunshine bursting through gloomy clouds. Aria! Are you well?

As well as I can be here. Naamah has stopped her mental attacks, she replied.

That is wonderful!

I fear not. Her mental voice took a somber tone. She has directed her energy at the barrier wall. Already has it cracked, and I am unable to make repair. Soon, she may escape.

We are not far, I replied. Then, it will be you who escapes. Obeus has a plan. I mentally shared it, explaining each step.

You are truly my knight in shining armor, Tomas. The lifting of Aria's anxiety was palatable over the dream link, yet much remained. Would you... Would you stay with me for a moment?

Of course!

Aria's dream landscape shimmered into view around me. It was the same flowing meadow set on rolling hills as before. As the sweet fragrance of countless wildflowers teased my nose, she appeared, at first like a flowing mist, then becoming real and tangible. Warm amber eyes pierced my heart and stole my breath. A gentle breeze swayed her long, dark hair and ruffled the skirt of her silvery dress. When she reached up to cup my cheek with a slender hand, I nearly melted into a formless blob.

Unable to form coherent words, I merely opened my arms. Aria fell into them, nuzzling her head in the crook of my neck. My heart soared.

Years ago, my father shared some wisdom with me. Over ales at a local tavern, he told me of how he first courted my mother, and that if he had waited for the right moment, the moment might never had come. 'Sometimes,' he advised, 'the right moment waits on you.' I will never forget the light in his eyes.

Umm, Aria? I stammered.

Hmm?

I know I am just a poor commoner from a small village, but--

Aria lifted her head and pressed a finger to my lips. Tomas! I see the depths of your soul. And it is beautiful. Nothing else matters more than that.

A warmth flushed my cheeks at her compliment. I, umm, was wondering, well, if I might court you? Internally, I cringed. This was not coming out as smooth as I hoped.

A half-smile crept onto her face, and she giggled, but not of derision as I feared, rather good-hearted amusement. But we have not yet met. In real life, anyway. She raised up and placed a soft kiss on my cheek, sending shivers down my spine, then whispered in my ear. In answer to your question, yes. You may court me.

As Aria snuggled into me again, I heard a gruff voice penetrate the dream world from afar. "Tomas! Wake up before you fall off your horse."

Leave it to him to interrupt this moment. I groaned, then asked, Would Obeus approve the courting?

Don't worry. I will handle my big pooky. Aria stepped back, holding my hands with a smirk on her face. Go now. Come and get me.

Nothing will stop us!

The dreamland dissolved into mist as Aria blew me a kiss. Back on the horse, I jerked my head up. "Wha..?"

In the moonlight, I just made out Obeus' narrowed eyes. "You mumbled Aria's name. What were you doing with her?"

I gulped as an unwarranted wave of guilt overtook me. "Umm, we were just talking. Honest."

Obeus gawked at me, then sighed. "Let's stop and get a few hours' sleep before you hurt yourself."

*****

Soon after dawn, we continued our journey, climbing among stunted evergreens up a ridge along the faint rocky trail.

As we cleared the rocky ridge, the sepulcher revealed itself—the impenetrable prison of gray granite and shimmering magic, enclosing both the best of humanity and the worst of evil. It stood high on the valley floor, framed on two sides by red-rock cliffs, like a conical memorial. Aria existed within, locked in perpetual conscious hibernation. But so did Naamah.

Silently descending along the switch-backed path, we left the familiar behind. The dust stirred by the horses tasted dry and bitter on my tongue. What should have been vibrant riparian foliage laid void within the canyon. Even the winding stream seemed sterile. Blackened and grotesquely twisted branches of dried trees no longer remembered the green of life. I shielded my eyes from the blazing sun with a hand, something the tree leaves should have done. The air stood still, with no sound save from the clumping of hooves or errant rock tumble. No bird sang or grasshopper flittered. Even the woodsy fragrance had departed.

As we approached the sepulcher, the Fury awakened. It rumbled in hunger, but did not test the bonds that held it within, as if knowing to wait. Soon, I told it.

The rock prison loomed over us, humming with magic in deep bass tones that rumbled in my bones. From Obeus' wrinkled forehead and grim expression, I surmised he felt it more than I. Periodically, fine blue sparks raced across the surface like sprites, disappearing as quickly as they formed. A touch on the cold rock sent tingles up my arm and the Fury bucked. Easy now.

With a solemn expression, Obeus pointed to a red-rock wall standing about three times my height. "Here Aria and I made our last stand before she sacrificed herself. It was the last time I called her my Willow Song." He turned away, eyes moist in a rare show of emotion.

"And you shall again," I answered with as much confidence as I could muster. I turned back to the sepulcher, tracing jagged fractures that marked the smooth stone like cracks in a glass vase. "It is weakening, like Aria said."

Extending a hand gloved in sparkling blue, Obeus nodded. "The magic falters as well. We are none too soon."

I circled the massive rock, examining every curve and crystalline facet, counting forty-two paces. But as I neared return to my starting point, I noticed an impression in the dry, sandy soil. A boot-print, recently made. Kneeling down, fine brush-like marks across the ground became apparent, as if someone tried to conceal signs of recent presence, but missed one.

Rising, I took in Obeus' eyes and said with almost a whisper, "We are not alone."

As if on cue, hard forces crashed against our backs, spraying blue sparks of magic over our shoulders. Flailing forward, I landed face down in the sand with a hollow grunt. In a flurry of blurred motion to my dazed mind, shouting men swarmed around, roughly hauling us up to our knees. When I finally regained my wits, the first thing that captured my awareness was the gleaming knife blade pressed against my neck.