26 October 2026
Today, in the newest installment from the third book of The Redemption series, The Morgle Unmasked, we meet the ruined school’s only inhabitant, one we have met before, who now becomes an integral part of our story, Klare’s best friend, Sutugno. . . . (23 May 2016) The full ebook version of this book is available for purchase from all ebook sellers. We remind all that the first book in this series, Chosen of the One, and the second book, Staff of Shigmar, are both free from Smashwords! Glossary links: Book 3, Book 2, Book 1
Chapter 6, Part 3
Rokwolf came slowly around the corner, helping a disheveled-looking wetha with dirty-blonde and matted hair, torn and dusty green robes, nearly as tall as he was, as she leaned heavily upon his shoulder; her face was streaked with tears, but both recognized her at once, and Klare rushed forward.
“Sutugno!” Klare exclaimed. “What has happened to you?”
Sutugno stopped, and so did Rokwolf; she stood, looking at Klare, surprised. “Klare, is that really you? Where have you been that you could ask such a question? The whole world has turned upside-down.” She crumpled to the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees, her long hair falling over her head and knees, covering her face but not her sobs.
Klare knelt beside her friend and wrapped her arms around the sobbing wetha who melted into her arms like a child, continuing to sob. Klare looked up at her husband, then nodded her head at Sutugno. “She’s practically dead on her feet,” Klare whispered, “a little extra energy, my dear.”
“Oh, right,” Klaybear said, “but I thought you wanted to try it?”
Klare frowned up at him. “I’m a little busy right now,” she hissed, “or hadn’t you noticed?”
“Sorry, dearest,” Klaybear replied, carefully igniting the all too willing staff and drawing energy to channel into Klare’s weeping friend; the eye-shaped emerald flared brilliantly, filling the shadowed hallway with green light.
“Leave me out of it!” Klare hissed again.
Klaybear grinned sheepishly and turned away and caught his twin’s hastily covered look; turning back toward Klare and Sutugno, he knelt beside them, breath-giver surrounded by green light. Placing his left hand on Sutugno’s head, he let the energy slide slowly into her aching and weary body, trying as he did to soothe some of her pain and weariness. Sutugno’s sobbing ceased and she raised her head to thank him, but instead, her eyes widened, and he saw two points of red light reflected in the tears still glistening in her eyes and on her cheeks. He turned to look at the hand gripping breath-giver and saw half of what she saw: red light glowing at the center of the eye-shaped emerald and emanating from his right palm. Horror clenched his gut; he had not wrapped the cloth around his forehead after he and Klare had bathed, and looking up, he saw the horror he felt mirrored in their faces, saw the red, pulsating glow reflected on their faces staring at him. He stood and staggered backward, letting go of breath-giver, but the staff of life was the only thing holding back the mad gyre of his vision, which had been rising inside his mind, and when the staff’s green glow vanished, only pulsing red remained, the color of blood. In his haste to hide the offending symbol, engraved with fire into his palm and forehead by Gar himself, he made the mistake of trying to hide one red symbol with the other, hurling himself directly into the mad whirlwind of his corrupted vision. Sutugno’s voice came to him doubled: once from the mad gyre of his vision, once standing before him, a living expression of the wounded pain and anger he felt helpless to resist.
“You!” Sutugno screamed, pointing at him. “You did this! You murdered them all! You took my husband from me on the day before we were wed! You murdered Rebeth!” She lurched forward, hands forming claws, to tear out his eyes, her face a hideous mask of fury in the bloody light. Klare and Rokwolf were both motionless, stunned by her sudden, vehement response to the pulsating marks. She jerked forward, scratching at his face and the mark glowing red in his forehead, face red and livid, a mad grin stretching across her face; insane laughter howled in the whirlwind, echoing from the past-future: “. . . the sign will mark your separation from those whom you would save. . . . Then, perhaps, you will truly taste the bitterness of being chosen . . . sign . . . separation . . . save . . . bitterness . . . chosen bitterness chosen save bitterness claws klare eyes wide dead bitterness claws blind bitterness save chosen dead delgart dead klare dead marilee dead tevvy dead rokwolf dead klare dead thal dead blakstar dead klare dead rebeth avril myron klare rokwolf klare bitterness chosen bitterness chosen . . . pain and fire burning in his mind consuming thought and consciousness at once.
Arms held him: mother’s arms? No, she died when he was born; Klare’s arms; the scent of roses, soft touch of lips, hand stroking his cheek.
“Klaybear, dear?”
He opened his eyes slowly and saw green eyes, red and swollen from crying, looking concerned. His forehead and right hand burned; his cheeks felt hot; he groaned and sat up and saw Master Avril’s room around him. “How long?” he heard his voice croak.
“Not long,” Klare lied unconvincingly.
“Where is Rokwolf?” Klaybear asked. “And . . . ,” but he could not say her name, “your friend?”
Klare sighed. “I put her to sleep,” Klare replied, “they are in the empty master’s quarters at the end of the hall; Rokwolf . . . ,” she began but stopped, looking away before speaking again, “he wanted me to stay with her, but his presence, even as she sleeps, calms her more than mine.” She looked back at him, and he could see hurt in her eyes; she shrugged. “It’s odd behavior.”
Klaybear shook his head and sighed in turn. “Not really,” he replied, “since they used to spend a lot of time in each others’ company, and since you are married to me, Gar’s agent of destruction.”
Klare’s response was swift and unexpected, and it surprised him more than anything she had done in the recent past; it was not the physical pain that hurt the most but the emotional, making him feel like a naughty child slapped by his mother for talking back to her.
On Wednesday we will continue with this conversation, as Klare reminds her husband of their relationship, and what he means to her. Until then, we remind all that the first two books of this series, Chosen of the One and Staff of Shigmar, are free from Smashwords. Get this book, The Morgle Unmasked, from the links provided. Good reading!
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