The Chalice Quartet


To the others, Tel appeared to be napping against a tree. He could feel his surroundings in a removed way, the scents of the fire and food wrapping around him and dispersing unsmelled, the ground beneath him there for support and not for comfort. His body remained, but his mind was far gone. The sunset


They followed the winding river for a few miles before the early evening hours of a near-winter’s night faded fast. It was still comfortable, but the temperature was likely to drop to the forties or fifties that evening. Right then, they desperately needed a bath, since the trek had left them sweating and covered in


Anla’s, Al’s, and Tel’s new friends, whom they helped while Raulin was busy tailing Lady Karninth, were more than happy to direct them to the town hall when they asked. The quartet made their way there slowly, past blocked off streets and piles of debris they had to climb over or double-back. The building didn’t


Raulin’s plan, in retrospect, had been rather romantic and dramatic, a fitting ending for one of Al’s alley novels, but not so much for his taste. He had planned to meet Katerin somewhere where a bunch of people were, then cold-shoulder her. Anla was going to run to him and kiss him, then a bunch


Raulin sucked in his breath. “We have to go back.” “What?” the wizard asked. “I thought we were leaving for the road when we woke up.” “I have to see if she’s all right! She could be dead!” “Who?” “Katerin!” It had been bad enough that he’d had to leave her. Imagining her dead was