The Lurking Evil  

The morning sun graced Weluma's jungle canopy and its ruined temple in warm gold. Amara stood at the edge of the crumbling western terrace, gazing out to sea and turning over troubled thoughts. She had told no one of the vivid vision that had shattered her sleep, yet its meaning weighed upon her.

Some new evil had come to the islands or perhaps it was there all along, she was not certain. And Rhys, her adversary, was marked as its victim along with her. Much as the roguish brute aggravated her, she could not abandon him to the sadistic fate glimpsed in those bloody visions. Their fates remained bound, for good or ill.

Footsteps crunched on rubble behind her. Amara turned to see Lord Bane approaching, clad only in loose silk trousers, his night-dark hair was blowing wild in the sea breeze. His dusky handsome features creased with concern.

"You left our bed before dawn, Amara. What vexes you?" He moved closer, searching her face.

Amara hesitated. Bane claimed knowledge of these islands and their hidden perils. Could he enlighten her about this unknown threat encroaching? But caution held her tongue. Bane yet had designs of his own upon her and the Hallow Skull. Until she better understood his motives, wariness was wise.

"Dark dreams troubled me," she said at last. "I took air to clear my thoughts." It was truth, if not the whole truth. Bane's eyes remained intent upon her as if trying to peel back the layers of her reserve.

"Dreams often hold truth unseen by waking minds," he shared. "I may aid in their interpretation, if you wish it."

When she hesitated, he pressed on. "Have you beheld the gathering shadows? This isle's wards are compromised. An ancient evil now runs unleashed." His jaw tightened. "All our lives are in peril."

Amara stared. "What evil? Explain yourself plainly!" Could this be what she had glimpsed?

But Bane pressed his mouth in a tight line as if already regretting his words. "I cannot give more detail. But heed me—danger stalks us all. We must quit this place soon."

Amara grasped his wrist. "Tell me what you know!" she insisted. But Bane gently loosed her grip.

"Please, ask no more. My oath binds me." Pain flickered in his eyes. "Trust only that I will protect you."

Before she could question him further, light steps sounded from the stairway. Hiwana climbed into view, wearing her leather jerkin over a knee-length wrap. Her lithe beauty stole Amara's breath even now.

"Come down to breakfast, you two," Hiwana called brightly. "The morning's clear, and the tide favourable for—" She broke off, reading the tension on their faces. "Has something happened?"

"Dark tidings," Bane answered heavily before Amara could speak. "Evil creeps close upon this isle. We must be away soon."

Hiwana paled. "The demon?" At Bane's warning look, she bit her lip. "Forgive me. I understand so little."

Amara looked between them sharply. "What demon? Hiwana, tell me!"

But the island girl shrank from disobeying Bane's unspoken command. Amara swallowed her questions with effort. Whatever curse fettered Bane, she would not force her young friend to betray vows.

"Let us go below," she managed finally. There was nothing to be gained by arguing in circles here. Hiwana led them down the crumbling stair in uneasy silence. But inwardly, Amara's thoughts roiled. Bane knew more than he revealed. She must unmask the truth before catastrophe swallowed them all. But how?

The winds picked up as they breakfasted tensely on dried fruits and fish, fuelling Amara's disquiet. She left the meal early while murmuring apologies before slipping away. Truth lay shrouded here. She must seek answers beyond these cloying ruins.

Donning boots and cloak, Amara crossed the island's spine on a narrow track. The sea wind swelled, bearing spray off white-capped swells. In the distance, dark specks scudded across the waters—ships. Amara paused, shading her eyes. Not Bane's raiders, surely? He had shown no sign yet of summoning reinforcements.

She descended rocky slopes toward a sheltered eastern bay, one of the few congenial anchorages. As she neared the tree line, raucous voices carried on the wind—the coarse laughter of sailors at leisure. Amara crept forward until she had a view of the small cove below. Her stomach clenched.

Two longboats bearing the black axe emblem were drawn up on the strand. A score of men sat eating and gaming around fires, some sporting bandaged wounds. These were crew from Rhys's own warship, she was certain. What ill chance brought them here now?

Even as Amara hesitated, she knew she must learn what this unexpected arrival portended. Steeling herself, she emerged from the cover and picked her way down toward the cove. The sailors noticed her approach and shouted in surprise. They jumped to their feet with their weapons appearing in grimy hands.

"Stand fast!" Amara halted a dozen paces off with her hands raised. "I come in peace, seeking parley."

The men shuffled in wary confusion, eyeing her state of casual undress. "It's the admiral's witch! Bind her!" one rough voice cried.

But another countered, "Let's listen to what she has to say first."

This gave Amara hope. "Please, I mean no harm. But I must know—what happened to your captain? Dark omens surround his fate."

The sailors traded uncertain glances until one older man stepped forward, knuckling his brow.

"Begging pardon, ma'am. The cap'n came here hunting you. But he found only trouble." He gulped. "We was guarding the shore when screams echoed from above. No natural sounds, neither. We climbed up quick as we could manage...but too late."

The man's face paled with haunting eyes. "Found the cap'n's daggers in a weird chamber all smeared with gore. Signs of a dark struggle, but no..." He faltered. "No sign of his lordship."

Amara swayed. Her vision had been true, then. These worthy sailors confirmed Rhys had encountered some horror in the ruins. Amara took a steadying breath, commanding her voice to remain calm.

"He yet lives, I am certain. And I know what evil has him now." She prayed it was no lie. The men stirred in surprise as she continued. "I seek now to find and free him from dark captivity. Will you aid me?"

The grizzled sailor scratched his head. "Don't see as we could help against uncanny devilry. We're simple sailormen." He paused. "But we won't hinder you, mistress. The cap'n could be hard, but fair in the main."

Amara felt a surge of relief. "Give me but an hour. Then we will parley again." She turned and climbed hastily back up the ridge before they could argue. The news was dire, but she had allies now, however unlikely. Together there may be hope of thwarting this unseen demon and its ambitions.

Hiwana was pacing the courtyard when Amara returned. The girl rushed to embrace her. "Where did you go? Bane refuses to explain, but I sense a pall..." She searched Amara's face anxiously.

Amara gently loosed the embrace. "I cannot say yet. But I must journey to the temple ruins inland, and I would have you with me." She turned her gaze to Bane, standing distant and brooding. "My lord, I require your company as well. Time is essence."

Bane's dark brows knitted. "I advised staying close, Amara. What madness drives you to that place?"

Amara moved nearer, lowering her voice though Hiwana still hovered anxiously. "I know you shield me from some threat. But I must follow my own wisdom now if we are to survive." She grasped his hands, entreating. "Trust me and do this, I beg you."

Bane gazed down at her silently for long moments. Amara held her breath. Finally, he gave a reluctant nod. "So be it. I will conjure a vessel just in case we need to flee this island afterwards." He offered Amara his arm and she took it, weak-kneed with relief. Bane could not shield her forever. She prayed her instinct to take the helm was sound. If not, they were all doomed.