“Deathlight! Our city is under a Deathlight!” The shouts warned us.

  Master Glimmerblade and I looked at each other in surprise and rapidly made our way further into the atrium from the top of the stairs, where we had paused, trying to understand the chaos around us. By words and actions, it seemed like an awareness of the Deathlight had been going on for some time, and we were merely oblivious to it in the trials room.

  When I turned to ask my former master a question, he clutched an amulet around his chest. I had not noticed it before, which was odd because the pendant was unusually designed in silver with a single, dark gem that I could not identify, as his hand clasped over it. Given my patron skills, I was usually quite attentive to details in jewelry. Given the way it was glowing, the amulet must have been magical, which made it all the more interesting and unusual that I had never seen my master wearing it.

  Before I could say anything, he looked at me sadly and said, “I’m sorry, but I must leave.”

  And just that fast, he teleported away in a gathering swirl of shadowy mist. I had seen people teleport before, although not often. It had never been like that. He seemed to step backward toward the archway that led back down the stairs to the room of judgment, where my trials had just concluded. It was like parts of him came apart and swirled into…somewhere else.

  It was hard to describe because the effect of departure was so unexpected and unusual.

  Looking around, I could tell that nobody else noticed Master Glimmerblade disappear.

  All sense of celebration was gone. Mages and apprentices hurried by seeking either shelter or weapons based on their urgent cries.

  I had little confidence that answers would be forthcoming in the guild hall, so with a new purpose and considerable anxiety, I strode down the hallway toward the exit. I stopped only to retrieve my backpack, which I had left inside one of the guild meeting rooms, along with a sack of provisions left for me as a surprise by the guild hall residential staff. It held bread, cheese, and a dozen of my favorite baked chocolate crinkle cookies.

  It was odd to be thankful for such a small gift at such a time in our city, but seeing those cookies warmed my heart. I placed the parcel in my backpack and buckled it around my shoulders.

  When I exited the chaos of the guild hall, I saw the same panic and confusion magnified many times over in the central grounds of the Round.

  “Gwydion!” Biff shouted my name, and I saw him running from a spot near the great fountain, where he was probably waiting to see me emerge from my guild hall. He arrived within moments.

  “Have you heard? A necromancer has set a Deathlight upon the city!” He asked urgently and excitedly.

  I looked around. The day was still young, but it was warm and clear, and there was no sign of trouble.

  “Where is it coming from?” I asked.

  He looked like I was confused, and he spoke slowly, as you might with a young or startled child.

  “North. From the graveyards. Where else would it come from?” He said.

  I hit myself on the forehead, further causing him alarm. Of course, it would come from the graveyards. That is where necromancers practiced their dark arts, and history tells us the last one hit the city over fifty years ago from our graveyard as well. I was walking through the cemetery at night a few days ago on Davon’s quest. I was fortunate to pass by unharmed because the necromancer and his minions had to have been there for quite a while in preparation for this attack.

  I was saved an awkward explanation about my thoughts as I saw Bido coming out of his guild hall in his thaumaturgist’s red robes. I waved to him, and after a moment of looking around, he spotted me and waved back. My yellow robes were no more difficult to spot from across the long courtyard than his red ones.

  We met halfway between our halls, with Biff walking beside me and pelting me with questions I had no better way of answering than he did himself.

  “Where should we go?” He asked, followed rapidly by, “Is there a plan? Why would it happen today? Was there something special about the first day of spring? Where’s Wilma?” His final question caused him to look off in the distance across the courtyards of the Round and Diagonal in the hope of spotting her silver robes.

  We both let the questions hang there since we wondered the same things.

  I noticed that Bido was prepared for trouble by the way he was holding both his magical pocket mirrors in each hand. He had the red-colored mirrors out on both of them. For him, red meant fire. He meant business and was ready for combat. Fire was a safe bet against the undead.

  Adriana had argued with him at dinner as we discussed our preparations to enter Shark Bay. She insisted that orange was the actual color of fire and red was the color of blood. He had explained that this was true for her guild but not his own. The two had a lively debate until we moved on to more serious planning and a list of weapons and tactics. We had been so naive when we had walked into Shark Bay. Our planning and ideas had been woefully inadequate.

  Had that been only last night?

  “Have you seen Steven?” I asked the two of them.

  They looked around and said they had not seen him since we parted during the early hours of this morning.

  “Then I suggest we make our way to the cathedral. If anyone knows how to deal with the undead, it will be the bishop and the clerics.”

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  They agreed.

  We kept an eye out for the others in our adventuring group but did not see any of them among the rushing citizens around us. As we walked purposefully toward the cathedral, I began replacing all the rings that I had removed from my fingers for the journeyman trials. I wore the gear I had on when we faced the giant eel and boss shark.

  “How did your trials go?” Bido asked.

  “I passed, but it was rough. I have a new enemy. How did yours go?”

  “I had to face an evil equivalent of myself. It was very dark mirror magic and let’s just say, it was closer than I ever expected. Sometimes the dual nature of my guild can be quite annoying.”

  Biff looked at us like we were crazy. “Maybe we could focus on the army of undead that is attacking the city and worry less about the big test, like we were a bunch of students.”

  Bido and I both grinned.

  “We were a bunch of students, Biff,” I said. “Unless you didn’t pass and are still a student.” I left that hanging out there to see his reaction.

  His eyes got wide ,and then they narrowed. “You are having a go at me, aren’t you?”

  Bido and I both laughed. I said, “Just bringing you back. You seemed a bit on edge, and we need our tank full and his wheels balanced.”

  Biff mumbled something under his breath that I could not quite make out as he shook his head.

  We departed the Round, and I gave a quick look over my shoulders to see if any of our companions were following us or were at least gathering around the city center or fountain. I still couldn’t see any of them.

  I knew that Adriana had her trials earlier this morning. She had been scheduled first and by now would have been finished even with her celebration, I was sure. Wilma had her trials planned for later today, and Steven’s were not until the end of the week. There were so many clerics rising to journeyman this year that they spread their trials out beyond Springtide morning. However, as I understand it, their trials were completed weeks ago and ended with an informal group ceremony. The scheduled event at the end of the week for him was more of a formalizing ceremony for friends, family, and such in the cathedral.

  I presumed Simon would be in the monastery, preparing for whatever trials or tasks awaited him. He never told us when his trials would be held or even if they were today. Monks were the youngest of all the guilds, and their practices were still secretive and mysterious. Not that the other guilds weren’t equally so, but given enough centuries, stories spread, and experiences were shared. The first monks arose around the time of the last battles with the Great Necromancer fifty years ago, although their origins seem older.

  We began marching east down St. Michael’s Way toward the cathedral. I would pass by Sundance’s shoppe and wondered if I should stop by to see him. As I tried to decide, I saw him standing on his porch with his front door open.

  He waved to me. “How did it go?” He shouted, asking about my journeyman trials.

  “I passed. It was rougher than expected, but I’ll tell you all about it later. Get inside and lock up! It’s a Deathlight!” I called back to him.

  He gave me a casual “thumbs up” with one of his beefy Dwarven hands and walked toward his doorway, where one of his brawler security guards, Bruno, was waiting anxiously for him to get back inside.

  I smiled. Sundance would not be impressed with a human necromancer, but he would take precautions. He would lock the door and draw the iron gates over his front picture window. He was proud of that window. Glass of that quality and size was a rarity in the city. The building had no other doors or windows and just had the main floor and the warm, dry cellar that ran the length of the main floor below. It was a secure location, all things considered, once the iron gates were locked in place.

  As we strode purposefully to the cathedral, we saw some families gathering their personal treasures while others fled without shoes. The range of choices and reactions to the city-wide alarm was as broad and diverse as its inhabitants.

  However, their time was nearly up. I sensed tension building around us, and the light was turning a deeper reddish hue, although I could not yet see the Deathlight itself. I recalled that it would come upon us like a wave, but I did not know much about it or its dangers, other than that undead creatures would accompany it.

  And death.

  We strode down St. Michael’s Way, each sensing the rising urgency, and the speed of our pace increased unconsciously. As we moved away from the Round, things began to become more and more chaotic. We avoided an old street peddler, Mistra, who was trying to sell charms to a couple of city watchmen. The guards were haggling with her.

  Bido and I shook our heads at the absurdity of the scene.

  As we neared the cathedral, I saw an armored cleric walking toward us. He wore shiny chainmail and a kind of blue cape that swayed as he walked. He held a dark blue metal mace firmly in his right hand and a magical glowing shield strapped to his left arm. I recognized him but did not know him well. His name was Paternus, and he was Steven's friend and classmate. They were in the same year and would be journeymen or brothers as soon as they completed their ceremonies.

  However, I had not realized Paternus was a golden cognito like myself.

  He placed his mace into a sheath as we stopped and clasped arms.

  He smiled broadly and said, “Gwydion, I had no idea you were a golden cognito!”

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” I replied. “Small world.”

  Paternus looked up. “Beautiful and alien.” He said quietly, in awe of the hollow world we looked upon.

  Meeting eyes again, he said, “Things are moving quickly, eh?”

  We laughed. Bido and Biff watched us but did not seem unnerved by our conversation.

  “My apologies,” I said, motioning to my friends. “Please allow me to introduce journeyman Bido of the thaumaturgy guild and journeyman Biff of the brawler’s guild.”

  Paternus extended his arm and warmly clasped arms with them as well. “Where’s the rest of your adventuring group? I recall Steven saying there were a few more of you.”

  Biff winced. “We don’t know where they are.”

  “Well, Steven went off earlier.” He said. “My guess is he will be north of here. That’s where I am heading. Would you care to join me?”

  We looked at each other, and I seriously thought about it, but said, “I feel like I’m being called closer to the wharf.”

  Paternus smirked. “I would have thought you had enough of the wharf last night.”

  Bido and Biff nodded in agreement, with Biff muttering, “Too true.”

  “I was thinking we would stay on dry land but help people get to the ships,” I said, catching a grin from Bido. There was a ritual practice of the deathlight invasion defense of fifty years ago on its yearly anniversary. While in my lifetime, people mostly ignored the event, there were basic strategies to protect the city, and getting civilians onto ships in the harbor was one of the three main tasks. The other two were manning the gates and walls, and for spellcasters, gathering into groups to defend sections of the city with our warrior companions.

  Paternus turned more serious. “Yes, there will be great suffering today. Anything you can do to help would be most welcome. Oh, and thank you for the magical ring. It is amazing. You made it?” He asked, holding it up for me to see on his thumb.

  “Yes. I gave it to Steven, and he said he planned to give it to you as a gift at your rising. I’m guessing that happened this morning?”

  Paternus nodded and looked down the street before meeting my eyes in response. “He gave it to me last evening. It is quite remarkable and will be very useful today, I’m sure.”

  We stared at each other for another moment, and then, before I could add anything, Paternus said, “Well, I have a quest from the bishop, and I need to get moving. Are you sure you don’t want to join me? I’m heading into the graveyard to hunt the necromancer.”

  Biff and Bido both looked nervous.

  “As tempting as that sounds, and while it is true that enchanters are mages, we are hardly legendary war masters, battle mages, or war casters of old.”

  Paternus nodded. “Although I hear you have made a few trinkets that could even that out a bit.”

  Seeing that I wasn't going to join him and wanting to leave on a positive note, he reached out, and we clasped arms again. “I hope to see you when this all quiets down, " he said with another warm smile.

  “Have fun storming the castle,” I said with a grin.

  He laughed and moved down St. Michael’s Way to the west, and we continued to the east.