The Edge of Chaos by Jak Koke Page A

convenient for Tyrangal to tell others he was clever or lucky, but she and Duvan knew the truth: he was resistant to the spellplague, and his resistance extended to anything and anyone near him. A blessing and a curse, as spellscars were, though in his
    case the curse came more often by the hands of those who had stopped seeing him as a person and only saw him as a spellscar to harness.
    Duvan shuddered. His years at Wildhome threatened to come flooding back over him. He tried to focus on the here and now, on Tyrangal and this new mission. He needed sleep; dreamless rest would help him focus.
    “Duvan,” Tyrangal demanded his attention. “Be exceedingly careful. Avoid the Order and get out of town. Take Slanya.” Tyrangal touched Slanya’s chest again. “Duvan here has uncanny luck avoiding the threats of the changelands. He is the only person I know who has survived near-exposure to spellplague without getting spellscarred.”
    Slanya came out of her reverie and nodded her nearly-bald head. “He seems like the ideal guide for my journey. Well, except for the trying-to-kill-me part.”
    “Oh?” Tyrangal said. She looked enquiringly at Duvan.
    Duvan smirked. “Yeah,” he said. “That was a misunderstanding.”
    “I presume,” Tyrangal said, “that it won’t happen again.”
    His smile grew. “As long as she gives me no cause,” he said. “Besides, she can take care of herself.”
    “Excellent,” Tyrangal said. “Sister Slanya has my full approval. And her quest is an important one, even though it is probably more dangerous than any I have sent you on previously; It is your decision whether to go or not; I will not exert my influence on you in-that regard. However, it would be a convenient way to stay out of potential mischief for the time being.”
    “Yes, Tyrangal, I will—”
    “However, I request that if you agree to take it, you promise to see it through to the end.”
    Duvan nodded. “I promise,” he said. “If I accept the job, I will see it through.”
    Slanya looked at him. “Will you do it, then?”
    “What’s the arrangement?” he asked Tyrangal.
    “You will get triple your normal pay,” Tyrangal said. “One third up front and the balance when you and Slanya return with the plaguegrass load.”
    You and Slanya—he looked over at the priestess. Solemn, but under that stern face she was worried. At least she was smart enough to know it wouldn’t be easy.
    “So,” Duvan said. “When do we leave?”
    ****** ****** ***
    Walking next to Duvan with the high Vilhon sun beating down on them, Slanya found herself sweating in the heat. For some reason that wasn’t yet completely clear to Slanya, Duvan wanted to avoid discovery by the Order of Blue Fire. So they had decided to skirt around the city on their way to the monastery, where they would pick up their supplies and head out to the Plaguewrought Land.
    Gnarled trees and tall brown grass surrounded the disused trail on either side. Through the foliage Slanya could see glimpses of some ruins off to their left—perhaps an ancient military tower, its once-strong structure no more than discarded rubble now.
    A stony mote floated like a low cloud above them, and as it drifted to eclipse the sun, it cast a wide shadow that blocked the searing heat. Slanya was grateful for the reprieve, even though the close proximity of the motes made her nervous. Sometimes, the small ones fell out of the sky.
    “We must hurry through this area,” Duvan said, keeping his voice low. “If we are being pursued, this is the best place to—”
    The sound of approaching hooves interrupted Duvan. Slanya glanced around. “You were saying?” “Hide!”
    Slanya barely noticed Duvan disappearing into the tall grass and ducking behind a pile of stone rubble. And as she moved off the path and crouched down in the shadows of a ruined wall, her eyes lost track of him. She concentrated and tried to find him again.
    Yes, there he was: just across the narrow track in the