You have come again, Shoren said.
I have. He looked out through the damahne’s eyes and noted that he was in a room within the Tower.
Did you find a way to help those you think can be damahne?
Should Jakob share with him what he had done? Shoren didn’t care for the way he walked back along the fibers.
I can tell from our connection that you did.
I didn’t know that it was possible to assume control in such a way.
It should not have been, but the way you travel the fibers is different from what I know.
I think you could do it, too.
Perhaps. But why would I?
Those I helped were in danger.
Perhaps.
Jakob could tell that he wouldn’t convince Shoren, but then he wasn’t sure he had to convince him. Shoren’s experience was much different from his own. Can the Tower hold other damahne from it?
The Tower was designed for all of the damahne. None should be excluded.
There is one from my time who has gone… bad.
Shoren filtered through Jakob’s mind. Your brother. I am sorry, Jakob.
When the fibers were damaged, Raime corrupted him and offered him power.
In your time, you are manipulating events much more than I would ever have known possible. It is… dangerous.
If there were any other way, I would take it, Jakob told him.
Shoren seemed to consider for a few moments. There is a way to do what you asked, but it will change the ahmaean of the Tower itself.
I think it is necessary. There are others who will need protection from him and the one he serves.
Shoren pushed forward and shared with Jakob. When he did, he opened himself to Jakob in ways that he normally didn’t. Usually, Shoren sealed his mind from Jakob, keeping him from accessing all that Shoren knew, doling out knowledge in small amounts. When he did this, it was a more open sharing.
Jakob had understanding of what he would need to do, and recognized Shoren’s concern about how it would impact the fibers. It might, but what choice did he have? He would need to hold Scottan away from the Tower until he figured out whether there was anything he could do to help his brother.
You are coming to an endpoint, Shoren told him.
I believe so.
Why do I sense you aren’t certain that is worthwhile?
I’m afraid, he admitted.
Afraid?
There has been a vision of me along the fibers where I lead to darkness.
You think you lead to the destruction of the seal.
I don’t know what I do. I’ve been hesitant to search the fibers to find out.
You fear that knowing will influence what you must do. I have often felt the same way. Many who have access to the fibers feel the same way.
Thank you for all the help you’ve given.
You are always welcome to come back and speak to me, Jakob.
Thank you.
He separated and pulled himself back outside the fibers.
He held himself there for a moment. He must be drawing from the Tower the same way he had when he had done it before. He studied the fibers, debating whether he should look forward along them, before deciding against it.
The fibers pulsed.
Something separated from the fibers.
You have grown.
Nemerahl?
The voice was distinctive, though he hadn’t expected to find the nemerahl again. The cat had rejoined the fibers after nearly dying.
The nemerahl materialized, appearing from the fibers. This one was mostly black with brown dappling along the fur and was smaller than the last.
You have grown, and now you have need.
Need of what?
The bond.
There was a flash within his mind, and he could see through the nemerahl’s eyes. He shared her understanding of the fibers, and he knew much of what she knew. The connection was there, so different than it had been when he had spoken to the other nemerahl.
Return, Jakob Nialsen. You have a great task ahead of you and the time remaining to complete it grows short.
You see this?
The fibers reveal it. Events planned for a long time come to fruition.
Raime has planned all this?
Not only him. There is another, and he has long been a greater part of events than any have known.
Epilogue
Pain welcomed Jostephon back awake.
He blinked, darkness all around him. He felt energy pressing against him, though it was not the kind of energy he was familiar with. It was ahmaean, and he suspected it came from the half-breeds, or possibly even the forest, though the forest had seemed to have a darker sort of ahmaean.
He opened his mouth, trying to cry out, trying to refuse whatever they were doing to him, but his lips didn’t work.
Pain surged through him, followed by a cold sense.
A healing?
Jostephon recognized the pattern they used and was surprised that it would be a healing used on him. When he had lived in Vasha, he had been a part of these healings, though none recently. As Eldest, he was able to abstain from such mundane tasks, forcing other Magi to handle those chores.
The cold continued to sweep through him, and as it did, the pain began to ease, retreating from a nearly incapacitating sense to sharp needles striking through him to little more than a dull ache. His body still throbbed, but not as it had.
His mouth worked. “Why?”
It wasn’t the question that he intended to ask, but it was the one that had come out. Why would these creatures have helped him? Was it to torment him more? Did they want him to experience more of the horror of the forest and the way it tormented him? Was that what the boy wanted? That seemed awfully dark for a damahne, though the boy had proven himself as something different from many of the other damahne. He had been a soldier first, something the Highest claimed none of the other damahne had ever been.
“The fibers required it of us,” a voice said.
There was a strange, accented quality to it, and Jostephon realized the half-breed spoke in the ancient language. Had he asked the question in the ancient language, or had it only been the response?
“The fibers care nothing about me.”
“That is where you are wrong, Jostephon Ontain. Each person’s strand is woven into the fibers of time. Each strand is important, and others are reliant upon it.”
Jostephon started to laugh, but it turned into a cough. There was nothing impressive about his cough, and as much as he wanted to laugh at these creatures, his body betrayed him, and prevented him from doing even that.
“You could have let me die. The forest wanted that of me.”
It felt strange for him to state that the forest wanted him dead, but that had to be the answer to why he felt compelled to climb the tree, and the reason he felt compelled to climb out along the branch, especially with his discomfort when it came to such heights.
“The forest serves its own needs.”
“And what would my death do to serve the forest?”
He blinked, trying to clear his eyes, and noted one of the half-breeds kneeling near him. The creature was dressed in drab browns and greens, a tunic seemingly woven from grasses, and pants that appeared to be stitched out of massive leaves. Could these creatures really be the ones to restrain him? How had it come to this for him?
And now they had healed him. Should he be appreciative, or should he be offended?
“Your death would not serve the fibers. That is why you live.”
Jostephon stared ahead. Did it matter what had happened to him? He should be dead. Had the forest allowed it, he would have been dead. “Let me go.”
“If we let you go, you will not be able to serve the fibers.”
“And how am I supposed to do that? What makes you think there will be a
nything that I can do that will serve the fibers?”
“Because I have seen it.”
Jostephon recognized that voice, but why?
He looked up, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. When they did, he gasped. “Tresten? But you’re dead!”
Grab the final book in The Lost Prophecy series, The Great Betrayal!
The final battle approaches. Preparations must be made. None will be ready for what is to come.
Only a few of the Magi understand the truth of what comes and that they must fight, but will those few be enough? Roelle heads north, intending to face the groeliin, and finds herself drawn toward another task. Isandra must somehow help the groeliin, but can she help all of them? If not, they’ll be used in Raime’s plan, yet if she can save them, the tide of war might finally shift in their favor.
Jakob decides that to defeat Raime he must understand him. This requires that he once more walk along the fibers in what might be the most difficult test of his ability, one that shows him not only Raime, but also a part of his past he never imagined. As he does, he learns of a secret Raime has hidden that might be the key to finally stopping him. If he fails, Raime will succeed, and an ancient betrayal will be the reason.
The final novel in The Lost Prophecy series.
Author’s Note
Dear Reader,
THANK YOU SO MUCH for reading The Gift of Madness. I hope you enjoyed it. If you would be so kind as to take a moment to leave a review on Amazon or elsewhere, I would be very grateful.
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D.K. Holmberg
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Also by D.K. Holmberg
The Lost Prophecy
The Threat of Madness
The Warrior Mage
Tower of the Gods
Twist of the Fibers
The Lost City
The Last Conclave
The Gift of Madness
The Great Betrayal
The Teralin Sword
Soldier Son
Soldier Sword
Soldier Sworn
Soldier Saved
The Cloud Warrior Saga
Chased by Fire
Bound by Fire
Changed by Fire
Fortress of Fire
Forged in Fire
Serpent of Fire
Servant of Fire
Born of Fire
Broken of Fire
Light of Fire
Cycle of Fire
The Endless War
Journey of Fire and Night
Darkness Rising
Endless Night
Summoner’s Bond
Seal of Light
The Shadow Accords
Shadow Blessed
Shadow Cursed
Shadow Born
Shadow Lost
Shadow Cross
Shadow Found
The Dark Ability
The Dark Ability
The Heartstone Blade
The Tower of Venass
Blood of the Watcher
The Shadowsteel Forge
The Guild Secret
Rise of the Elder
The Sighted Assassin
The Binders Game
The Forgotten
Assassin’s End
The Lost Garden
Keeper of the Forest
The Desolate Bond
Keeper of Light
The Painter Mage
Shifted Agony
Arcane Mark
Painter For Hire
Stolen Compass
Stone Dragon