Over the next two days, as they traveled west through Brunya Forest, Ayden lived in a state of constant tension, which only seemed to amuse Matt, at least whenever he actually noticed—he gave most of his attention to Tess. He goaded her into fighting every day, though he kept his word and was careful not to hit first. Still, every day it got worse. Ayden tried to talk her into at least lightening up, but she wouldn’t; she was obsessed with the need to beat him, though she never did.

Tess had said she wasn’t interested in Matt romantically, but she continued to be distracted by him. She spent far too much time staring at him, and even when he got under her skin, she seemed to like it. She enjoyed sparring with him both verbally and physically. She was slowly drifting toward him little by little. She still sat next to Ayden when they were around the fire at night, she still laid her head in his lap when he read to her after dinner, she still let him brush and braid her hair... but she wasn’t fully there anymore.

And Ayden knew she wasn’t telling him everything. For the first time in twelve years, she was keeping secrets. When he asked, she insisted there was nothing to tell, but it was a lie—he could see it in her eyes. There was a whole world inside her now that he wasn’t a part of, and it was killing him. Nothing had ever come between them before. Now he was scared he was losing her.

They reached the port town of Morras at the mouth of the Belthon River, which was so small it wasn’t even on most maps. They stabled their horses, rented a boat, and rowed to the southeastern shore of the main Canaras Island. This island was completely different from the last; instead of being covered with sand, it was lush and green with trees—mostly pines, like those in Brunya Forest. And it was warm here with a constant cool breeze off the ocean, instead of the still desert air that was thick with heat.

“So, we’re here. What’s it say?” Matt asked immediately after they got out of the boat.

Ayden considered letting him wait longer, not telling him until they got to the cave entrance, but he let it go. “It says Cave of the Spirit Dagger.”

“That’s it?” Matt growled in annoyance.

Tess just laughed.

“Yep,” Ayden said, unable to help smirking. “It’s just written in spirit language.”

“Why do the spirits need a language?” Tess wanted to know.

“It’s actually just an old forgotten language,” Ayden explained as he started leading them north.

“If it’s forgotten, how do you know it?”

“Forgotten as in no longer used, at least by the living,” he clarified. “It was the language of the Canara Tribe.” They walked farther until they came to an opening in the trees and a small abandoned village was suddenly before them. “They were the people who used to live here,” he said, motioning to the small, simple huts that were made out of sticks and mud.

“They were elves,” Ayden continued as they started walking through the place, “but not like the elves we know. They were shorter, not willowy at all, they didn’t have the speed, and, according to the other elves, they were uncivilized. The others wanted nothing to do with them—pretty much the same attitude they have towards the gnomes. And almost everyone else, really.”

Tess picked up a wooden bowl that sat beside a cooking pit. She looked at it for a moment, then set it on a small bench before wandering off to look at something else.

“They say that these elves were Daegon's first creation,” Ayden told them, referring to the God of Light. “Before he created the real elves”—he moved his fingers, doing air quotes—“so the Saelythian and the other elves weren’t too heartbroken when these ones were wiped out.”

“How’d they die?” Tess asked as she peered into a small hut. “Wait, there’s a skeleton on the bed in here.”

“Yeah, they died very suddenly, and this place was just left. The elves want nothing to do with it, and humans mostly stay away because of the ghost stories.”

“Are there ghosts?”

“I’ll get to that,” he told her, then smirked at the impatient face she made. “Almost three hundred years ago, someone came to their island—just a regular human who was curious. The man swam, since it’s not that far or deep. But he was bitten by a mortas fish, and it diseased him. The Canarans tried to help him, but their contact with him just passed on the sickness and it spread quickly through the entire tribe. They were too weak to swim and had no boats since none of them had left the island in thousands of years.”

“No healing cleric among them and no way to get one fast enough,” Matt guessed.

Ayden nodded. “Exactly. They were all dead within two days.”

“How do you know all this?” he wondered.

“The AMER explored this area not long after they were wiped out,” he said, referring to the Arcane Magic Exploration and Recovery team. “They didn’t find much in the way of magic, but they found journals and kept them for historical purposes. They’re at the Arcane Library now. I read through them when I was there the other day.”

“So why’s this language known as a spirit language?” Matt asked. “Because of the ghost stories?”

Ayden shook his head as he continued walking, leading them north and out of the village. “It’s said that the Canara Tribe were the guardians of the Spirit Dagger. Because of that they were referred to as the Spirit Tribe. They took their sacred duty very seriously. Supposedly, the task was given to them by Mortalia herself.”

“Wait,” Tess said. “If the elves were created by Daegon, why were they protecting something for Mortalia?”

“Not sure. The journals the library had didn’t go back that far.” Ayden answered, then noted, “This is a good place to camp; the cave entrance shouldn’t be too far north of here.”

Tess nodded and sat down in the grass. Matt did the same and lit a cigarette, while Ayden grabbed some nearby pieces of wood. When he was finished building a fire, he took some supplies out of his bag and started making dinner. “So, I’ve also heard about the Canarans from Cael, but he’s biased.”

“Why?” Matt asked.

“He’s half Saelythian,” Ayden answered, happy to explain and share his knowledge, even if it was with Matt. “He heard the stories from his grandfather, who hated the Canarans just as much as the rest of the elves. But they say that the Canarans turned against Daegon after he made the better elves, because they felt that they were unwanted. After that they were run off the mainland by the other elves. But regardless of why, they came here, and this is the location of Mortalia’s true temple.” He pointed to a tall gray spire that they could see rising up above some trees in the distance. “So it makes a bit of sense.” He shrugged, then turned to Tess. “Are you even listening?” he asked lightly.

She was playing with some twigs and pebbles on the ground, building a little structure with them. “Yeah,” she said offhandedly.

“What did I say?”

She rolled her eyes. “I heard you.”

He just smiled. He was used to her not listening, or just half-listening. At least she was focusing on something other than Matt for a change.

Matt watched Tess for a moment, looking amused by her, and then asked, “So if they were the guardians and now they’re dead, what’s protecting the dagger?”

“I don’t know for sure,” Ayden answered. “One of the Canaran books was missing from the library, the first one. I asked and they have a record of it, but it seems someone stole it.”

“Why would someone want to steal a book about the history of a small, insignificant tribe?”

Ayden shrugged. “My guess is that it was one of Mortalia’s people. None of the other books make much reference to the Spirit Dagger, and I’ll bet that one did. Maybe someone didn’t want its location, or its power known. People tend to be attracted to powerful objects. Someone could have been trying to further protect it.”

Matt nodded. “Well, guess we get to be surprised again,” he commented, sounding like he thought it just made the adventure more fun.

“Yeah,” Ayden agreed. “Though the stories say that after the Canarans died, Mortalia returned four of their spirits to continue to guard the dagger. But they couldn’t protect it as well in that form, so she moved it to below her temple. That’s what our map leads us to. Those ghosts are supposed to be protecting it to this day, and they’re the only ones who would speak Canaran, and so it’s called the spirit language.”

“So, we’re gonna have to fight ghosts, then?” Tess asked, interested again.

“Most likely. I doubt they’re gonna just let us have the dagger.”

“I forgot... how do ghosts fight you?”

“With energy,” Matt answered.

Ayden nodded. “Yeah, a ball of energy, it’s a spell-like ability. It’s their only weapon. They use it to hit or trap.”

“Can it be blocked?” she wondered.

He nodded. “My shield spell should work if I see it coming in time. But that’s the problem; it’s just energy, so it’s pretty much invisible.”

“Why are these things, like the dagger, created if they’re just gonna be protected against anyone ever having them?” Tess asked. “It’s kind of dumb.”

“Usually they’re created for a purpose and once they’re used for that purpose, they’re locked away,” Ayden said. “Sometimes someone hides them because they realize how dangerous they are, but don’t have the heart to destroy them. There are those who think that the gods hide some just to toy with people.” He shrugged neutrally. “But the Spirit Dagger is just supposed to be ornamental, perhaps ceremonial—I’d never heard of it having any power before. Just that it was very valuable and, since it was supposedly made by Mortalia herself, very meaningful to her worshipers.”

“How’d you find out about its power?” Tess asked Matt.

“Iris,” he said simply. “No need for books when you’re psychic.”

She smiled. “That’d be handy.”

“Very,” he agreed. “So, why didn’t these elves just speak Woodlander like the others?” he asked Ayden.

“They did, but it evolved into something different,” Ayden told him. “They were alone on this island for thousands of years. But the languages still have a lot in common.”

“Oh!” Tess said, remembering something. “We’ll need magically imbued weapons to fight the ghosts. Can you do more than one at a time?”

Ayden nodded. “But Matt already has a permanently imbued one, so I’ll just need to do your daggers.”

“You do?” she asked Matt.

“Yes,” Ayden answered. “And it’s the most expensive sword on Kelstone. It should be at the Arcane University, or at least at Farlon Castle.”

“What’s the point of creating an amazing weapon if it’s never going to be used?” Matt asked. “It belongs in the hands of a fighter, not a stuck-up mage who’s just trying to show off how great he is.”

Ayden scowled at him, but before he could reply, Tess asked, “How do you know about his sword? And why’s it so expensive?”

“Because it’s the Farlon Lightning Blade,” Ayden told her. “It was enchanted by Farlon himself hundreds of years ago. It, along with his castle on Farlon Island, has been passed down through the family for generations, but the last owner sold it to pay off gambling debts.” There was a hint of disgust in his voice.

“Well, you know everything, don’t you?” Matt said.

“Yes,” Tess said proudly. “He’s really smart.”

Ayden shook his head. “I just read a lot.”

“Can I see it?” Tess asked Matt.

He lifted his sword, still sheathed in its silver scabbard, up a few inches from the ground. “See?” he said, then put it down again.

She rolled her eyes. “No, I wanna hold it.”

“You want to hold my sword?” he asked, his tone suddenly suggestive.

She glared at him. “Just let me see it.”

He smirked. “Sure, as soon as you say it.”

“You’re such an ass,” Tess growled.

He shrugged and left the sword where it was, keeping a hand on it in case she tried to snag it. “So, do you know it by sight?” he asked Ayden. “Or was the sale in the newspaper and I didn’t know?”

“Yes,” Ayden answered shortly. “A Farlon item doesn’t trade hands without it being big news in the mage community, though the buyer’s name wasn’t given, which must have cost a good deal extra.”

“A bit,” Matt said with a casual shrug.

“But I also knew what it looked like because there’s a painting of Farlon in the Mages Guild in Brunya City. In it, he’s holding the sword.”

Matt nodded. “Well, it’s staying with me now.”

“Let me see,” Tess demanded again.

“Say it.”

She sighed, then smiled a little. “Please?” she asked, using her sweet voice and look. That wasn’t what he had wanted, but it seemed to work on him just as it did her father and Ayden.

He rolled his eyes at her, then glanced warily at Ayden before he handed it to her. She grinned happily at him and he smiled a little as he took out his silver case and lit a cigarette.

Tess pulled the sword out and looked it over. It was beautiful and strong-looking; it had a smooth black grip, and its guard was intricately carved and straight. In the middle, on both sides, the eye of Eolys, the symbol of magic, was engraved just above the handle. The center of the eye was a blue topaz, and the eye design itself was wrought in gold. She noticed the fancy writing on the blade and asked, “What’s it say?”

Matt shrugged. “No idea. I’ve had it for a few years now, but I keep forgetting to get it translated.”

“I can tell you,” Ayden offered.

“No.”

“Do you think I’d take it or something?” Ayden asked. “Same team, remember?”

Matt studied him for a moment, then sighed. “Fine.”

Tess handed it over and Ayden smiled at the sword, enjoying its power. Unlike the others, he could feel its magic. There weren’t many enchantments that were this strong anymore, and it felt good to hold it. It felt... powerful. He already knew what the blade said, the writing was on the painting as well as in books. It was in Woodlander—Farlon had been fascinated with the Shia’Lan elves and their uses of magic. He had been one of the rare humans to actually befriend some of them. “It says: In magic is true might,” he told them.

Matt huffed a smoky laugh.

Ayden looked over at him and decided to wipe some of the smugness from his face. He stood up and walked to a nearby boulder that was about three feet in diameter.

Matt was already on his feet behind him. “What are you doing?” he demanded.

Ayden shot him a wry smile. “This.” He raised the sword up, felt his own magic combine with that of the weapon, and then thrust it down. The blade sank two feet into the stone and Ayden let go, leaving it there. He returned to his spot by the fire and started dishing out the stew that was finished cooking.

“How’d you do that?” Matt wanted to know.

“Magic is might,” Ayden told him. “Some things are much more powerful in the right hands.” He handed Tess a bowl of dinner, and then glanced at Matt. “Go ahead; tying using your might to take it out.”

Tess frowned at him, more in confusion than anything else; it wasn’t normal for Ayden to be acting like this. But just then he was overcome with the need to take Matt down a notch.

Matt grabbed the hilt of his sword and pulled, but it wouldn’t come out. He dropped his cigarette onto the ground and tried again, using all his strength, but it still wouldn’t budge. “Nice trick,” he growled. “Now take it out.”

Ayden met Tess' gaze; she was silently telling him to be nice. He sighed quietly and stood up. He had made his point, anyway; he would leave it at that. Matt moved out of the way so that Ayden could grab the sword. He felt the power, both his and the sword’s, weaving together and surging through him. He pulled it out with ease, handed it to Matt, and then went to sit back down.

Matt returned to his seat as well. “How’d you do that?”

“Power attracts power,” Ayden answered simply. “For you the sword just has a low level lightning spell on it. But for me, when I touch it, its magic merges with mine and becomes stronger. It draws on my power and mana, feeds on it, making the magic of the sword much stronger than any normal spell I might cast.”

“So why not fight with a sword like this, then?” Matt asked as he sheathed his weapon and accepted a bowl of stew.

“The sword would use up my mana in a matter of minutes. It’s excessive, like using an ax to cut butter. Whether I thrust the sword into a rock or into a goblin, it uses the same amount of energy,” Ayden explained. “Farlon was a very powerful mage who had a castle full of his own brilliant inventions. So of course he had enemies and people who wanted that power for themselves. He created this sword to use for protection, if necessary. Channeling his magic through it, he could quickly break through another mage’s shield and strike them down.”

“So, why don’t you have one?” Matt wondered. “Just for back up or something.”

“Someday I might,” Ayden said. “But right now I can’t afford it.”

“Why not just enchant one yourself?”

“Enchanting objects is very complex,” he told him. “Farlon himself was in his thirties before he was able to enchant anything successfully, and he didn’t make that sword until he was sixty-one.”

“But you said you can imbue Tess' daggers,” Matt pointed out.

“Yeah, but that’s just the same thing I did with the rock in the last cave. I just cast a light spell on it. It’s simple and temporary. To enchant something, to permanently imbue it with magic, takes a lot more.”

Tess sighed and handed Ayden her empty bowl. “As exciting as all this explainy stuff is,” she said sarcastically and turned to Matt, “stop talking and eat so you can fight me.”

Matt smiled. “Gladly.”