Prologue

The men were talking in a language he didn't know, but he understood them anyway.

"You're positive that the boy will remember nothing?" one asked.

"Positive, that arrow was coated in crushed fireweed," the other replied.

"So he won't be able to tell those dratted Rangers what he learned of us? Pity we couldn't kill him… After all…dead Rangers tell no tales."

"Yes, yes. We did the next best thing. I heard the boy had been exposed to fireweed while he was one of those Skandian yard slaves. It may very well kill him to be exposed again. So the Rangers just might have an unexplained death on their hands."

Who were they talking about? What boy? Was it him? He was young… It couldn't be, he would remember those men…Or would he?

You have no memory, Will. This is a dream. A premonition of sorts. Regaining your memory could be dangerous… Will you take the risk? Or will you fight your friends efforts? Decide now…

The voice was a comforting whisper.

"Could my friends be in danger if I don't remember?" he asked the voice.

Yes. Those men are plotting terrible things. They must be stopped. You have the knowledge, but they stole your memory, your healer friend was worng, you aren't suppressing it…it was forcibly blocked.

"I have to save my friends…I want to remember." Will decided.

Very well, your mind will not resist rememberance… The voice faded into silence.

"Well, everyone of them will die anyway, so it doesn't matter if the boy lives or dies as long as he doesn't remember. If that happens, we'll have to kill him." The man seemed to be looking straight at Will as he said this.

"Gah!" Will woke in a cold sweat, but for the life of him, couldn't remember what he'd been dreaming of. Shrugging, he rolled over and went back to sleep, by morning he'd forgotten having the dream at all.