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hear me. The evidence pointed to them and they were convicted."
    "Your friends on Ice Island." Sparrow's raspy voice always sounded like he had a cold.
    Achan considered the purpose of their journey into Darkness. "And we're going to free them?"
    "That and more. There are over two hundred and forty Old Kingsguard soldiers on Ice Island. All my men, all falsely imprisoned over the years, most for being a stray at the time of King Axel's murder. They will be the start of your army, Achan. And we need an army if we're to turn this kingdom back into Arman's hands before it's too late."
    "Before Esek becomes king," Sparrow said.
    Two hundred and forty men didn't sound like much of an army to Achan, but it was better than just these three knights, he supposed.
    Sir Gavin snorted. "Esek is the least of our concerns. The more Er'Rets turns from Arman and worships the false gods of fables, the more people kill and murder and hate and serve themselves, the more Darkness will consume this land. It grew at King Axel's death and it grows still. When I stood in the western watchtower in the Mahanaim stronghold five months ago, the Evenwall reached the sixth buttress. Yesterday, the mist had drifted within feet of the tower itself, five buttresses closer. 'Tis moving two hands' breadths a month."
    Darkness was growing? Achan felt the blood draining from his face. "Can it be stopped?"
    "Only one man can push back Darkness, Achan. Arman called him to this divine purpose. Darkness has spread these past years because the truth was hidden from Arman's chosen. But I knew he lived. For if he had truly died, Prince Oren--being next in line for king--would have begun to hear Arman's voice. But Arman did not speak to Prince Oren. He spoke to you."
    Sir Gavin's words knotted Achan's stomach. "So it's be king and everything is great, or don't be king and the world is consumed by Darkness forever? Nice choice."
    "Darkness will continue to grow no matter what you decide. Only when the Light grows stronger than the Dark will Darkness retreat. You must rally the people. Remind them who created them and why. Take them back to truth. Others are ready and willing to step in as king, should you refuse. Esek. Lord Nathak. Though they will not push back Darkness. The choice falls to you. Will you lead us?"
    A silence descended upon the camp the darkness seemed to magnify. Achan didn't respond. He couldn't. The idea was so farfetched. First, that there might be only one god, and second, that this God had chosen Achan to push back Darkness, the magnificent curse of Er'Rets. Him. Achan. Barely a man himself.
    He spoke in a whisper. "Why didn't Lord Nathak kill me when he had the chance?"
    "I know not, lad," Sir Gavin said. "I can only guess he was afraid to, knowing who you truly are."
    Achan recalled odd encounters with Lord Nathak: times when he'd sensed fear, how Lord Nathak had ordered the guards and Esek to go easy, to not kill him. "He's afraid of me."
    "Perhaps he feared the gods would smite him if he destroyed you," Sir Caleb said, a lilt to his voice.
    "That is what I'd be fearing if I was being him," Inko said.
    Achan didn't doubt that.
    "He had to," Sir Caleb said soberly. "If the true heir died, the gift would pass to Prince Oren, revealing Esek as a fake. His plan would work only while Achan still lived."
    "Perhaps," Sir Gavin said. "Or perhaps he served a darker master who wanted you alive for some evil purpose." His comment brought a moment of silence over the camp.
    Achan's mind reeled. Who might this mysterious bloodvoicer be? Someone strong. Stronger and viler than Nathak. Could it be Macoun Hadar, the old wizard who had tried to use Sparrow? Or someone worse than him? Achan wriggled around, pulling off his doublet. He settled back onto the bedroll and draped the heavy leather over his head, hoping it would keep the mosquitoes off his face.
    He lay still, breathing deeply, telling himself the stench wasn't so bad. A vision grew in his mind. He was