The book was now joined by another and another and four more until there were seven—one black, one brown, one blue, one green, one purple, one red, and one more Johnis couldn’t make out because it was covered by the others. All seven became one book, and the red twine vanished, absorbed by the covers.

The shrouded black man-beast with long claws suddenly stepped in and sank his nails into the book. He tried to pry it open. Arcs of lightning shot from the pages, struck Johnis in the face, and shook him to his bones.

He jerked his head out of the water, gasping. Silvie and Darsal both had their heads in the pool, but they came up, too, hollering in pain.

For a few moments they just stared at one another. Then back at the water, stunned by the power.

“It’s like another world,” Silvie breathed.

“ ‘In the west, the Dark One seeks Seven,’ ” Johnis said. “The seven Books of History.”

Darsal stood and wiped at the water on her face. “I don’t like it.”

“We have to go west,” Johnis cried. “We have to keep the seven books from the Dark One.”

“And do we even know who the Dark One is?”

“Teeleh. It has to be.”

“The Roush are one thing,” Darsal said. “Maybe even Shataiki. But are you sure this mythical creature named Teeleh truly exists? Besides, the Roush saved us from death. Surely you’re not suggesting we continue on west, further into this blasted desert that not even the Horde will inhabit.”

“I am.”

“We can’t!”

Silvie walked to her horse, who’d filled its belly with water. She pulled out her canteen and returned to the pond.

“What are you doing?” Darsal demanded.

“Preparing for the journey,” she said.

Darsal drilled Johnis with a hard stare. “That’s right. We have plenty of water for the journey home, Scrapper. I suggest you fill your canteen as well.”

“The journey west,” Silvie said. She stood and plugged the leather bottle she’d filled with a cork. “I’m with Johnis. It’s true, Darsal. Everything he’s told us is true.”

“And I’ll tell you what else is true. Billos is gone, captured by the Horde. The disease has probably turned him into a Scab. We have to find him, and that means a rescue mission with veteran fighters. Now that we have water, we have to go back for help—for Billos’s sake if for no other reason!”

“Even if we did go back,” Johnis said, “we couldn’t tell Thomas what we’ve learned.”

“Why not?”

“Because the Roush ordered us not to.”

“You’re putting too much stock in a white bat who thinks he knows how to fight. I could never break my vow to the supreme commander by keeping all this hidden.”