The Queen was amused that Marta had finally fallen asleep, despite her every attempt to stay awake.

  The Queen had always had great difficulty picking specific memories out of the minds of her victims, but with Marta so exhausted, the Queen was able to more easily direct her opponent’s thoughts, which would incidentally push Marta toward becoming more like the Queen.

  Both of them had been thinking about Black Palace, causing their souls to resonate as they experienced the same memory…

  Marta dropped to the floor of the local Ice Palace, which was black as ink. At first, she’d thought the structure was something other than ice, but as she knelt and scratched at it, a little of it came away on her fingernail. The ice became cloudy and white the moment it separated from the port, melting to water on her skin. She flicked it off her hand and dried her finger on her clothes.

  “Why is it black?” Iris asked and Marta joined her in looking at Amelia.

  Amelia shrugged, “How should I know?”

  “Well…there’s usually some scientific explanation…” Iris trailed off.

  Marta added, “And you always have a guess, even when you don’t know.”

  “Well, I think this is being done by the port’s spell-core,” Amelia sighed, “but I’m not sure, because I’ve never sensed anything like this before. It doesn’t feel like the magic of mythril.”

  The three of them looked around and Marta was bothered by how dark it was. Most Ice Palaces they’d visited in the weeks since the first had been well-lit by little patches of ice that bore runes for light, but while Ice Palace Fifty-Two used the same technique, only a very minimal amount of light was coming from them, leaving the place full of shadows that were only pierced by the light coming from the doors and windows of the few ships parked in the docking bay.

  Stepping into the light from Starwitch was a figure in a black robe, with a low hood. Beneath the hood was the dark glass of a helmet, which made their face impossible to see. Marta wondered how they saw through that combined with the gloom, but they obviously could.

  “Welcome to Ice Palace Fifty-Two, which is named Black Palace. I am the Docking Witch.” The woman’s voice was a low whisper as she bowed and pointedly avoided introducing herself by name, “I am also a priestess of Takenta.”

  Takenta was the god of secrets, privacy and shadows. He, or possibly she, was mentioned often in the scriptures, as one that had always sought peace between the gods. Takenta had always been depicted as nothing more than a shadow on the wall. They were one of the few that had never taken a side in the various wars between the gods.

  “What’s your name?” Iris asked.

  The priestess answered in the same low whisper as before, “Apologies, but I am under vow to never reveal my name, so long as I serve as priestess of Takenta. I am meant to be a stand-in for Takenta and to that end, I have no personal identity, a sacrifice made for the sake of Takenta. When you look upon me, you look upon the visage of Takenta. When you speak to me, you speak to Takenta. What my ears hear, Takenta also hears. I am but a mere shadow of a divine presence. You may refer to me as ‘Docking Witch’ or ‘Daughter of Shadow’, should you seek my attention.

  “Now, to business: are you the Blackwell sisters?”

  Amelia answered, “We are.”

  “Good.” Daughter of Shadow nodded, “The Port Commander will be pleased. Follow me and I will lead you to him.”

  As they followed the priestess, Marta was struck by how quiet Black Palace was. Most Ice Palaces were filled with echoes of voices, which never quite subsided, because they usually had a busy, all-hours market at their center, which left at least a soft murmur, if not a dull roar of voices. Black Palace, however, was eerily silent, almost like the hush in a sacred place, like a temple to one of the gods.

  After the ten ports she’d visited, Marta was quite familiar with the standardized layout and expected to be taken to either the Port Commander’s office or the control center. However, their guide was leading them toward the market.

  Marta was surprised when they reached the cavernous chamber with a domed ceiling, because it had been repurposed. Where she expected to see stalls selling food on the outskirts, there was instead only a layer of dark, mottled carpet, which muffled every sound. The material was even tacked to the walls.

  The center was dominated by an actual temple, which was made entirely from wood stained so dark, it was nearly black. In contrast to most temples, the exterior was plain and unadorned, because Takenta had no interest in the usual precious metals and jewels, but the structure was presumably made of fine wood. The main entrance was guarded by two large figures dressed in the same shade of black as the Docking Witch, though their faces were covered by plain, wooden masks, rather than the helmet of a pressure suit. Each of them was quite tall and obviously muscular, despite the fact some attempt had been made to obscure that fact with baggy clothing.

  Two gruff-looking men in chain mail stared with contempt at the priests standing guard. Both had swords on their belts. One was human and the other a dwarf. After a moment to examine them, Marta decided they were either mercenaries or bounty hunters, because such men perpetually wore armor like a uniform. The latter option seemed more likely.

  “Let us in!” The dwarf growled, “We gots a job to do! Ye shouldn’t be standing in the way of justice!”

  Daughter of Shadow led the sisters toward the temple’s entrance.

  One of the guards quietly answered, “You are not welcome in the temple, because your intent is hostile and you would not respect the sanctity of this place.”

  “Ye’re dang right me intent is hostile!” The dwarf waved a finger in the vicinity of the priest’s mask, “Me’s got a bounty head to capture and me knows he’s inside! Me has a right to pursue justice, because me was appointed by the court of The Palace of Judgment! That’s the highest court of Junas!”

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  The dwarf made an attempt to pass between the guards, but stopped short, his eyes wide with surprise! Marta sensed the oddest kind of magic she’d ever felt, which was so beyond her usual experience, she couldn’t classify it.

  “How do ye do that?” The dwarf demanded.

  “It’s impossible to trespass in any temple of Takenta, because our god will never allow it.” Daughter of Shadow answered, from behind the dwarf, “I would advise you to calm yourself and seek a more peaceful solution.”

  “As would I.” The human bounty hunter agreed in a weary tone, “If you’d listened to me in the first place, we could have spoken with Mr. Magnus. We could at least have heard his side of the story, but since you keep loudly insisting we have a right to him, he’s never going to come out.”

  Daughter of Shadow stepped past the dwarf and the priests guarding the temple, beckoning the Blackwell sisters to follow. She opened the double doors, revealing the interior was pitch dark.

  She held a hand out, “Allow me to lead, because the interior of the temple is mostly unlit.”

  The sisters linked hands, with Amelia in the lead and Marta in the middle. Amelia took the hand of the priestess and they entered. Behind them, the doors were shut by the guards.

  The darkness became almost palpable and Marta was reminded of being in the depths of a cave without light, surrounded by walls that had never been touched by the rays of the sun.

  “It’s rather like a sensory deprivation tank,” Iris pointed out, “aside from the lack of saltwater.”

  “By embracing the dark, we learn to carry it with us, into the light.” Daughter of Shadow explained, “One must embrace both, to embrace balance. Is it not human nature to stand with one foot in light, the other in darkness and always torn between the two?”

  Marta couldn’t help but find that metaphor rather fitting, because she’d killed thousands of men in war, despite the fact she’d been raised to be a pacifist, and had only been acting on orders, because the alternative would have been worse. Amelia had saved her from that awful, unwanted fate, but Marta still carried the darkness of it, in addition to the light Mother had taught her to embrace. Marta would forever remain a War Witch, due to the blood staining her hands, but she would also forever strive for peace. Perhaps balance and the narrow, shaded path between light and darkness was what she needed?

  Ahead of Marta, Amelia complained, “It’s so bright! It hurts my eyes!”

  Marta was about to comment, because she was still in the dark, but she was drawn by Amelia into the light, which stung, since it was so strong! Marta blinked a few times, then looked back, seeing the archway she’d just passed through, beyond which was pure, absolute darkness. That should have been impossible, but again, she sensed a strange form of magic she couldn’t identify.

  Iris emerged into the light with her eyes held tightly closed, wisely giving them a better chance at smoothly acclimating.

  The sisters released each other’s hands and looked around. The small chamber was warm and decorated with white marble, with an orb as bright as the sun floating at the center, filling the room with almost unbearable light.

  “I didn’t expect this.” Amelia looked at Daughter of Shadow.

  The priestess bowed her head, “No one does, but shadow cannot exist without both light and darkness. Shadow is the balance between these opposing forces. Without darkness, the light would have no contrast and nothing could be seen. Without light, the darkness would consume all and we would likewise be blind. So it is with good versus evil or bitter versus sweet: to comprehend the one, we must know the other, regardless of our personal preference for either.” She gestured toward the floating orb, “Go to the other side and speak with Port Commander Dante Magnus. He will explain what he wishes to hire you to do.”

  With Amelia in the lead, the sisters stepped around the sun-like orb, which was surely a magical thing.

  Magnus was six and a half feet tall and seemed to be entirely hairless, with deep-set eyes that emphasized his skull. His thin nature also went a long way toward making him look like a skeleton. He wore a dark, brown robe and a pointed hat of the sort wizards favored, just a bit taller than the kind witches sometimes wore, since wizards always had something to prove. He sat on a bench that had been setup for contemplation, with an ebony box resting in his lap. He was asleep, with his head leaning against the wall.

  “Are you Dante Magnus?” Amelia asked.

  The wizard opened his eyes, yawned and answered, “Yeah. You the Blackwells?”

  “We are.” Marta nodded.

  “Good.” Magnus visibly relaxed, picked up the box and stood, “I’ve been accused and convicted of a murder, but I had no idea and failed to appear for my day in court. Just as the day I was accused of killing a man in another Ice Palace, I was here, doing my duty, which many priests and priestesses of Takenta bore witness to, as well as some merchants.

  “The High Priestess of Takenta, who serves this port as a Docking Witch, gathered many letters supporting my claim of innocence, which are in this box. I would have shown the bounty hunters, but the dwarf came at me with his sword, before I had the chance, and I ran straight here. The priests gave me refuge and I’ve been here for an entire week, which has forced the High Priestess to do my job, in addition to her own.

  “Please deliver this box to The Palace of Judgment with haste. I can’t afford to pay you, because I’m in debt, but I’ll owe you a favor and something like that from a Port Commander should be worth more than gold.” He held out the box.

  “If you were here, then how could anyone think you’d killed a man?” Iris asked.

  Magnus grinned with embarrassment, “I…owe a mountain of debt to a loan shark and he’s been hounding me for more than I can pay, despite the fact he knows I don’t earn so much. I always pay him what I can, but he’s never satisfied. I guess he settled for getting me jailed, rather than collecting. From what I’m told, he has a fairy working for him, who’s rather good at shape shifting. I think the fairy wore my face to kill another client that hasn’t paid their bill, as a way to hit two birds with one stone.”

  “I say we help.” Marta voted.

  “This is an important port and that would mean Magnus must have lots of influence.” Iris reasoned.

  Magnus readily agreed, “Oh, yes!”

  “Then it’s worth it and I like supporting justice.”

  “Okay, I guess we’re taking the job,” Amelia nodded, then turned to Magnus and accepted the box.

  Magnus smiled, “Thank you and safe travels.”

  Once they’d stepped back around the shining orb, the priestess bowed her head, “We haven’t always had a Port Commander as understanding as Dante and all of the priests here value his contribution. We would go to great lengths for him and now, we would do the same for you.”

  “Since there’s at least fifteen hours until the port opens,” Marta began, “would you possibly have the time to answer questions about your religion? I’m eager to learn more about your philosophy regarding balance.”

  The priestess turned her entire body to face Marta and cocked her head to one side.

  Eventually, she whispered, “What troubles you?”

  Amelia and Iris seemed to sense their presence would be little more than an impediment and stepped back, to allow Marta to speak with the priestess, alone.

  Marta took a deep breath as tears flowed freely from her eyes and she answered, “I killed so many men in war…”

  The priestess embraced Marta and spoke in a soothing way, directly into her ear, “Tell me of your darkness.”

  It was difficult to talk about, but Marta obeyed, starting from the beginning of her story, as far back as the death of her Mother, which had been close to eight years prior, followed by covering her family’s time on the road and rejection at every place they tried to settle, until they came to Dugaria, the country that had conscripted her into the military and made her an unwilling killer. That was especially hard to share, but Marta held nothing back.

  They spoke for a few hours, while Marta’s sisters conversed with Magnus.

  When Marta’s story was done, the priestess offered some advice, which mostly consisted of ways Marta might cope with her pain better. Since Marta had so much darkness within her, she was also advised to look on the bright side and seek opportunities to balance it with light.

  When they were finally done speaking, Marta felt a little better, a little lighter and best of all, a little more normal.

  The delivery was easy enough and from that day forward, they were always warmly welcomed at Black Palace.