Shim slid a lukewarm cup of water across the polished wooden table, moving slowly to avoid startling the skittish stranger sitting across from him. The man was middle-aged—not much younger than himself—looked like he hadn't slept in days and smelled like a pig pen, a scent that had intensified now that the door to Shim's workshop had been closed to the warm afternoon sun.

Took him long enough to calm down now that he's away from the others, Shim thought, sweeping his large, rough hand over his bald head before the habitual scratch of his peppered beard. The stranger took the cup in his hands and drank—slowly at first, then, in a ravished spurt, downed its contents and placed it on the table, clay bottom rattling against the wood in the man's shaking hand.

After the stranger had stumbled into Clegg from the north—babbling incoherently in fearful fits—the villagers who'd picked him up had made more of a spectacle out of him than anything, choosing to gawk and badger him with questions rather than help the poor fellow. The only thing they'd gleaned was his name. Shim's even-keeled request to question the man alone had been granted, trusted as he was as Clegg's one and only professional carpenter for more decades than he cared to admit.

"Name's Rennick, is that right? Would you like more?" Shim asked, forcing a smile he regretfully knew looked more like a grimace. The man jerked his head in the approximation of an anxious nod, vacant stare boring a hole into the table.

Shim dipped the cup in the full bucket of well water on the ground within arm's reach of his chair. As before, he carefully slid the cup over to Rennick, who accepted it eagerly and gulped down the water so fast Shim feared he would choke. Smacking his chapped lips, Rennick set the cup on the table again. This time, his eyes met Shim's.

"Too much too fast might not be good for you—state that you're in," Shim said. "There's plenty more, my friend. You won't go without. I promise."

Rennick averted his gaze but made no other motion as he stared wide-eyed and expressionless at the table.

At least he isn't shaking anymore. Shim cleared his throat. "For what it's worth, I'd like to apologize for my friends out there. They're a curious lot but not so good with manners. Probably have their ears glued to the walls as we speak, hoping to learn what got you in such a way. But they're good folk."

No reply came. Nor any indication that Rennick was listening.

Shim felt a worried, involuntary frown crease his features as he considered how to proceed.Wrong sort of question might set him off. Best to take things slow... "You see, we've been hearing some strange rumors lately. Folks are saying magic's dried up somehow. Been a few complaints here and there about things not working as they should, but we've hardly as much tech as what's in Alatyr. We're just a bunch of farmers and tradesfolk, truth be told, so we've been waiting for someone to pass through who knows more. People are starting to think the fae are behind it all. That another war's brewing." Met with silence, he pressed, "What about you? What do you make of all this?"

This time, Shim let the quiet linger.

When Rennick finally replied, it was with an inaudible rasp.

Leaning in, Shim asked, "Come again? What was that?"

"Not...the fae..." Rennick croaked.

"That so, eh? Well, if it isn't the fae, then who? What's happening out there?"

Rennick glanced up, eyes dancing with a trace of hysteria and brimming with tears.

Before he could stop himself, Shim asked another question, "Where did you come from? What happened?"

The tears overflowed, even as Rennick stared at Shim, unblinking.

Too much, too fast... I'm really no better at this than the others.

"All...dead..." Rennick managed, crossing his arms and grasping his shoulders. He started swaying back and forth, reminding Shim of a parent rocking an upset babe to sleep. "All dead," he repeated. "All dead! All dead!"—he started shouting, louder with each iteration—"All dead! All dead! All dead! All dead! All dead! All dead!"

Standing, Shim circled the table and gripped Rennick by the shoulders, hoping to steady him and keep the man from hurting himself. "All dead! All dead! All dead! All dead! All dead!" Rennick screamed, voice hoarse from the strain. "All dead! All dead! All dead! All dead! All dead! All dead! All dead! All dead!"

When the fit finally abated, and his screams reduced to murmurs, only then did Shim feel confident enough to release him. When he felt sure Rennick showed no further signs of distress, he refilled the cup from the bucket, placed it on the table, and returned to his seat, deciding to say nothing. The pair sat quietly—Shim hoping Rennick's proximity to the cup of water would be enough to draw him out of his stupor. Though it took some time, it worked. Hand quivering, Rennick reached out and took it. "Thank you," he muttered, taking a sip."

"Of course."

"I'm sorry... I—it's just"—he inhaled sharply—"I don't know why I did that..."

"You're in shock. I should be apologizing. I'll get you some food."

"No," Rennick countered, staring into the cup. "I...I don't think that will be necessary." Before Shim could ask why, he continued, "There's really no point."

But when it became apparent Rennick was going to leave it at that, Shim said, "I think you should get some rest. It was a mistake asking you to do this now. Perhaps we can pick this up later tonight or tomorrow morning."

Rennick's eyes lifted to meet Shim's, then flitted back to the cup. "You don't understand...there's not going to be a tomorrow. Not for me, not for you—not for anyone." He chortled. "We're dead already—you just don't know it yet, not until you've seen what I have..."

Either he's telling the truth, or he's a loon trying to scare me. And it's working. Regardless, it isn't right for him to fearmonger like this. "Fine," Shim said, biting back annoyance. "Tell me then where you came from and what you saw. If it's as terrible as you say, me and my people have a right to know what's coming our way."

"You're wasting your time. You should be saying your goodbyes. I'm surprised I made it this far. But maybe that's only because it let me... They'll be here soon."

"They? They who? What. Happened?"

Growing still, Rennick glanced up at Shim, dead-eyed. "We didn't believe what was happening at first when we heard the alarm. We were just at the market, buying my boys some sweets..." His eyelids fluttered, and a momentary smile broke his deadpan stare. When he spoke again, the smile vanished. "Hexwardens appeared out of nowhere and started rounding us up in the keep of Eventide Castle—told us to stay put while the 5th Legion took care of things. One minute, I was holding my eldest's hand, and the next, both he and my wife were swallowed up by the crowd. I looked for them...called out. But I lost them..."

Face slowly contorting as he described the memory, Rennick continued, "I carried around my youngest as long as I could. But he just grew so...heavy. And the people. So. Many. People. Pushing and pulling every which way—a sea of bodies—all crammed inside a giant cage. I—I only set him down for a second. Just for a second..." He stifled a sob, no longer looking at Shim, but into the past. "And I guess... I guess I just became so focused on finding the rest of my family I hardly noticed him slip away."

On the edge of despair, Rennick returned to the present. Brow wrinkled in pain, he asked, "What kind of father does that? What kind of father loses his family like that? His wife? His children?"

Shim refrained from answering. Instead, he weathered Rennick's look of disdain and misery.

Tears tumbled down Rennick's cheeks. He blinked them away and plumbed the memory. "I didn't have time to look. It happened soon after that. First, we heard screaming, then we heard them. After that, cannon fire... And the ground started to shake. The 5th threw everything they had at them, but it wasn't enough. They broke over the walls. It was a massacre."

"Who was it?" Shim ventured. "Who attacked Eventide? The Unseelie?"

Eyes wide with renewed panic, Rennick answered in a single, shuddering breath, "Deathless."

For the first time in his long life, Shim felt the primal urge to barricade the doors and grab the nearest tool he could find to use as a weapon. Doubt rose from the recesses of his mind. That's not possible. The Veil would need to fall for the Deathless to break free. The Veil could never fall.

But as much as he wished to prove Rennick a liar, he saw only truth in the man's eyes.

"They overtook the keep in an instant. People panicked and tried to flee back into the city. I tried to run too, but the ground became soft—too soft, I thought. Then I realized I was running over bodies... Bodies... And I can just remember praying I wasn't trampling my wife and children. I still looked for them as I ran—called out their names—but I couldn't even hear myself through all the screaming." He swallowed and took a deep breath. "One of them chased me... It was huge and looked like a wyvern, only it was made from pure shadow. I managed to get away in the chaos—escaped into a storm drain at the edge of the courtyard near the main gate. It'd been locked—the gate, I mean—so I knew we'd been trapped and needed to find another way out... And I did..." Rennick nodded vigorously as if to convince himself he'd escaped. "I did... I made it into the sewer beneath the keep."

Shim wrung his hands, numbly noticing his tightly clenched jaw. The encircling noises of everyday life—clucking chickens, a crier's call, the squeaking wheels of a passing wagon, and the distant din of a blacksmith's hammer—sounded louder than before, each distinct and rife with potential to indicate danger.

"I made into a tunnel," Rennick said, lowering his voice and shaking his head, "but I didn't go far. I was too scared. I remember seeing a large grate above me... Blood—a river of blood—pouring in from above, and I could see them: Deathless...slaughtering everyone! Then it came..."—he squeezed his eyes shut, wincing as his voice went up an octave—"I thought it was just an ordinary fae girl at first"—a short intake of breath, then he blew out his cheeks, shook his head, and his voice dipped—"but it wasn't. It wasn't.... That voice wasn't a child's at all. And those eyes! Hollow, black eyes!" Shuddering, he cuffed his ears and started to bob in his seat. "But it wasn't speaking to me! It found someone else—a man—someone I didn't know. It spoke to him... Gods, I can still hear its voice in my head!"

Impossible... Shim thought, realizing the implication of Rennick's account. He knew the legends as well as he knew his history. He's lying.

"Then it...took him. The child fell, and the man stood up—only he wasn't himself anymore. Something took him! It looked at me through the grate...with those same hollow eyes..." Rennick clutched at his shirt, his hands turning white. "It looked at me and smiled. I heard its voice in my mind, and it told me to run—run until I dropped dead in the wilderness. It said we would pay—that it would send the Deathless to every corner of the world!"

Shim stood, pointing an accusing finger at Rennick. "You had me with your story of the Deathless—that I could come to believe with all that's happening. But what you're implying is madness! You're a madman and a liar!"

"What? You wanted your truth, and I gave it to you, what else could you—"

"Enough!" Shim yelled, practically growling through gritted teeth. "I will give you food and water. Then, you will leave this village without saying another word to anyone! After that, you aren't going to show your face here ever again!"

"But—"

This time, it wasn't Shim that interrupted Rennick.

It was the sound of a warning bell.

It rang once, twice, a third time, and didn't stop...

The ground trembled. Then, the cup on the table began to rattle.

Both men watched in terror as it danced across the table and fell to the floor.

⊱─━━━━⊱༻●༺⊰━━━━─⊰

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