A concussive thump woke Corvan from a deep sleep, and he fell clumsily to the stone floor of the crypt.

  Red light flickered at the keyhole. Crawling over, he peeked through it at a fire in an enormous metal brazier, burning on the far side of the courtyard. Hazy flames illuminated men sitting on the ground facing the fire. Rebel soldiers with their ragged coats and braided hair were stationed on top of the crypts overlooking the entrance into their hideout.

  A horn sounded in the distance, and the men on the roofs began pounding rhythmically with their bladed staffs. Whatever the rebels were doing in the City of the Dead, they certainly weren’t being very quiet about it.

  Ignoring the incredible racket inside the crypt, Corvan felt his way around the floor until he located the round key. Returning to the flickering light, he unlocked the sliding door, and eased it open a crack. He wasn’t going to wait around to find out if Jorad would eventually inform the rebels where he was hiding. With all the commotion and the cover of darkness, this was the best time to leave and find out where Rayu had taken Kate.

  The pounding abruptly ceased and three older men in hoodless tunics emerged from the alley across the way. They marched in unison to a low mound behind the brazier, then stood at attention looking back into the alley. Even the fire seemed to grow still as everyone else watched and waited.

  Corvan eased the door a bit wider. In front of him a clear isle went between the seated soldiers to the three men standing up front. Did this mean they expected to release him and have him walk up to the brazier? His heart sank. Had Jorad told them about the hammer, that he was the long-awaited Cor-Van that could lead them?

  The three older men at the fire were staring at the entry. These ones all had shorter gray hair and one was almost bald, so they lacked the braid at the back. They must be waiting for their own leader to arrive. Scanning the crowd, it became evident that the isle was not for Corvan to walk up, it was a natural division between two distinct sets of soldiers. On the left side all the men appeared to be taller but as Corvan looked them over he realized it was because they were sitting up straighter than the men who lounged on the right. The men on the left also wore their hair in a braid down their back and none of them had a helmet on. Those had to be the rebels Jorad talked about.

  On the right side of the isle there were fewer men, clumped together in random sized groups. Judging from the red cloaks and helmets scattered throughout, these were the palace guards that had defected over to the rebels. Unfortunately, the wide isle between the two factions in the rebel alliance had pushed their respective groupings out to the very edges of the crypts on both sides. There was nowhere for Corvan to escape except up the middle.

  He looked forward just as a man walked in from the alley toward the older men on the low mound behind the brazier. The three men bowed slightly and moved back to the wall as he ascended the mound to stand front and center. He was the tallest person Corvan had seen in the Cor. Dressed in a long, flowing brown coat that looked like leather or oilskin, his head was adorned with an animal skin with the stuffed head still attached. The dead creature’s head jutted out over the man’s forehead; its glistening hairless skin wrapped tightly around the man’s skull, the clawed legs dangling behind his ears.

  As the man drew in close to the firelight, his smile grew as some on the left side of the crowd began chanting, “Cor-Van, Cor-Van, Cor-Van!”

  Keen eyes shone from beneath the mam’s prominent eyebrows as he surveyed his subjects and soaked up their praise. Throwing out his chest, he motioned discreetly to the three men behind him. One picked up a container shaped like a pointed Greek vase and poured a shiny black fluid into a hole at the bottom edge of the metal brazier. The flames leapt higher accompanied by clouds of sticky black smoke and more loud cheers.

  Corvan was exposed to the growing light and was directly in the man’s line of sight. He took a step back into the darkness of the crypt as the tall man raised his arms. The audience fell silent. He swept his hand slowly over the crowd, then clenched it into a fist and struck his own chest three times. Most of the men on the left did the same.

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  “Men of the rebellion, our time has finally arrived! For too long we have been reduced to living in holes, our days growing darker as the rulers of Kadir consume the remaining light for their own pleasure.”

  The man’s voice caught Corvan by surprise. He had expected a deep powerful voice from the tall man, but instead the leader spoke in a high pitched, squeaky tone that sounded more like the rusty screen door hinges on Corvan’s back porch. A soldier at the very back of the palace guard’s side of the isle, grinned at his companion, and received an elbow in his ribs in return.

  The man spread his arms wide, and his grating voice rose even higher. “But the end of these evil days is in sight. As your Cor-Van …” He paused, waiting for more cheers, but when only a few on the left responded, he dropped his arms to his sides. “As your Cor-Van, I am pleased to tell you that the final sign of our victory against the palace has been confirmed.” He turned toward the city proper where the upper edges of the central courtyard gate were visible and raised a clenched fist in the air. At his back, the firelight revealed a wide, forked tail hanging down from the animal skin on his head.

  Nervous fear grew in Corvan’s belly. During the war, he had seen motion picture reels that featured leaders who acted like this, at the theater in Fenwood. Terrible things happened all around the world when people blindly followed a leader who spoke this way.

  Fist still high in the air, the brown coat whirled about to face the men on the ground. “We all know that to take my place as your rightful Cor-Van and to lead you to defeat the palace of Kadir, I must have a worthy counterpart.” A murmur of agreement rippled through the left side of the crowd while those on the right shifted about and glanced at each other. The man lowered his hand. “We all know that since the rise of the Watchers, all possible counterparts, including your daughters, have been taken away in service to that creature’s new religion!”

  Instantly all the men on both sides of the isle jumped to their feet, shouting in anger, and pressing forward. Unchecked, they would have overrun their Cor-Van and attacked the palace immediately. It took a while for the leader and his three men to calm them down and get them seated again. Corvan looked over their heads. The isle was gone but there was now a bit of room on the right along the crypt wall. He could get past the soldiers but unless their leader left, there was no way for him to escape out the alley. If the rebel leader left and the soldiers went with him to lay siege to Kadir, he would never get back to the city to find Rayu and Kate.

  The tall man stepped back from the crowd, glanced up the alley, nodded, then turned back to the soldiers. “You have waited a long time for me to become your Cor-Van. Tonight, I am pleased to inform you that the priests of Kadir have finally seen the light and have acknowledged that I am the chosen one who is destined to lead the Cor.”

  A murmur of questions rose from the crowd, but the leader pressed on.

  “The priests of Kadir have also suffered greatly for some time now. Just recently, the Chief Watcher poisoned the High Priest, murdered Tarren, and falsely charged Tyreth with the murder of Morgan.”

  Anger rippled through the crowd at Tyreth’s name.

  “These are desperate days,” the leader called out. “So when the priests of Kadir came to me in their hour of need, I agreed to assist them in return for their help with my accession to power.”

  The man turned to the alleyway behind him, and Jorad walked out of the shadows to join the man at the fire.

  Corvan studied the priest’s face, trying to discern if Jorad was pleased to be helping the rebel leader or not. The leader stepped to one side and waited for Jorad to speak, but the young priest only looked directly over the crowd in Corvan’s direction.

  A long silence was broken by a few derogatory comments from the right side of the audience. The leader raised one hand to silence them. “Men, this is a historic night. The current High Priest will soon die at the hands of the Chief Watcher and Jorad will join our cause as the new High Priest of Kadir and of the rebellion. Jorad is the only one left who can lawfully join your Cor-Van and his counterpart in everlasting union.” He gestured to the alley and two men appeared, carrying a chair bearing a veiled woman in a long white cloak. “A counterpart worthy to be joined to your Cor-Van has been brought to us by the priests!”

  The bearers stopped and the base of the mound. Jorad took the woman by the hand helped her down and led her up to the leader. The man shouted to the crowd. “With the blessings of the priesthood, and to fulfill the office of your Cor-Van, tonight, in your presence, I take a counterpart and fulfill the final prophecy!”

  The flames leapt higher.

  The leader pulled away the veil.

  Kate stared blankly over the stunned crowd.