Serenity rose from the water and smiled at Kelton. Her beauty drew him into the water. Ignoring the flood over the tops of his boots he pursued his desire. Her eyes sparkled, reflecting the soft morning sun as it danced across the surface of the pond. He heard his name from her lips, a song that dissolved into his soul. Her welcoming arms reached out to him, then the sun's light pulled him from his dream.
Kelton sat up, his body begging for more and his mind a mush of desire. It had been five days since he left Juno. Touching his fingertips to his lips, he remembered the intimacy of his first kiss. He shook his head, trying to force the jumbled thoughts from his mind. Serenity, Juno, they were both in the past. It was the persistent dream that needed to go. He stood, throwing off his blanket, letting the brisk early winter air clear his mind.
"No more!" Kelton yelled at the world, though he could feel no one near.
Kelton felt something fly by his head and thump into the tree behind. His eyes followed the sound. A spear, no longer than an arm and thinner than any he had ever seen, was embedded in the tree. There were bird feathers attached to the exposed end. He was stunned, contemplating the speed it must have traveled to drive so deeply into the wood and being of such small weight.
"Oh! There will be more," a deep voice shouted. Kelton hit the ground and panic spread. The voice was near, yet he still felt no one. The Brethren had found him. "You are a fool to travel here. I will waste your saved one." The man's words confused Kelton
Another thin spear dug itself into the tree, nearer where Kelton's head now lay. His fear thickened as he crawled to his pack and drew his sword with a shaking hand. If the Brethren could throw such things, he had little hope of surviving the morning. Running would only make his back an easy target. He was going to die and so was his saved one. Rebecca? The Brother must have meant Rebecca. The chase had been a waste. His eyes moistened at the thought of one of those spears embedded in her chest.
"Just me," Kelton shouted. "Not her." His request was met with silence. "Please, just me," he begged. All he had done was for naught. He had killed to right things, and still, the world remained ruined. His stomach churned. He dropped his sword and stood to meet his executioner.
"No one else. Just me," Kelton begged again. He spread his hands wide, palms toward where the voice had come from. More silence. "I am not Kushiel's Answer. My death will prove it. You need not hurt anyone else."
"You are not of the Brethren," the voice said. It was half statement, half question.
"I am nothing," Kelton said.
"You are a mere boy." All statement. A figure rose from behind a bush, farther away than Kelton had imagined he could be. There must be others. No one could embed such a small spear into a tree from that distance. He looked about in dismay, wondering where the death thrust would come.
"Are we...are we agreed?" Kelton stammered as the figure cautiously approached. The man was not in white robes.
"Do you wish to kill me?" the man asked. His voice had become calmer, a trace of humor in it.
"No."
"Then we will agree not to kill each other." The man had the longest mustache Kelton had ever seen. It was brown dusted with gray, like his hair. Both halves traveled down past his chin nearly to this chest. The ends were wrapped in beads making them move unnaturally as one strand of hair each. They bounced against him as he walked. "Lower your arms, boy."
"You are not a Brother," Kelton realized out loud. He looked around for the others he knew must exist.
"You can drop your arms," the man repeated. He placed a long curved piece of wood over his shoulder. A length of twine was tightly stretched between the ends. Kelton dropped his arms and took a step back when the man drew a small blade from a sheath on his belt.
