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“That letter changes things.” Fadon glanced down at the invitation still on the floor. “So I’ll be going either way. And if you go, Alpha Queen,” Fadon added, “then I will be bringing at least thirty men with me.”
“The Basilica’s right at the foot of Great Mountain. We are too vulnerable if the Owl decides to make a move,” she replied.
Fadon shook his head. “It’s too damn cold for them to come all the way up here. It would be suicide. In these storms? No.”
She pursed her lips. “Perhaps.”
The room was silent as each thought out scenarios. If only they knew the outcome of each one in advance.
“How is Lady Lordes today?” he asked. If there was ever a time for a seer, it was now.
Mari crossed her arms as if she’d suddenly grown cold. “Still bed ridden, I’m afraid. Yet she’s no worse. Same as before.”
“It’s going on, what, three weeks now?”
“Yes,” she said sadly. “Because of this blasted weather…” She paused, and her eyes sharpened. “Fadon. The prophecy.”
In his head, Fadon cursed a litany of every blasphemous thing he’d ever heard in his days as captain.
The insane cold and the non-stop winter storms could very well be the prophecy playing out. Gods, if that was the case…
He needed his faculties back. There was just too much at stake, and his mind was mush.
Standing, he bowed to Mari. “I’ll go to Ghypsom City and represent you. But I need to see Orion. Can I join you on the inquisition later?”
She snorted at the word choice. “Yes. But send in Jon to replace you. I want as many observers for sedition as possible. And thank Ongar your surly ass is finally admitting you need a rest, Brother. About time. You look awful.” She waved him away.
“Thanks,” Fadon grumbled, heading out the door.
Chapter Five
Demos
“At least she’s swallowing down nourishment, otherwise she’d be lost to us. I’m not sure there is anything that can be done besides waiting,” the House’s physician said with a shake of his head. “I’ve sent for two very good physicians, both acquaintances of mine, but because of this weather… Well, I haven’t a clue whether they received my messages or not, I’m afraid.”
Demos, arms crossed, nodded at the mustached man. “Have you tried a ghypsom infusion?”
Healer Orion’s bushy eyebrow raised. “I have not. Any chance you have any ghypsom?”
“No. All my herbals need to be replenished,” Demos explained. “But I will be passing through Ghypsom City on my way to Utilla. I can place three separate orders and hope at least one gets to you. I’m heading out tomorrow, in fact.”
Rubbing his chin, Orion nodded. “All right.” Then he sighed and picked up his medical bag. “I’ll have someone bring you the funds before dinner.” He turned his head and straightened. “Oh, Captain,” he called as Fadon was leaving the queen’s parlor. “A word?”
Demos nodded at Fadon before turning back to Orion. “I won’t visit with her for long.” He motioned to Lady Lordes’ room.
Orion bowed his head at the Servant and then caught up with Fadon, who had paused in the hallway, waiting.
Lady Lordes’ quarters were dim and quite warm as Demos walked in, shutting the door behind him. He passed through her sitting room and entered her bed chamber, where she slept under a peach canopied bed. She hadn’t moved in the time he’d last seen her, which had been last night after dinner.
A stool sat beside the bed, and Demos took a seat and looked the lovely lady over. Her dark skin was ashen, especially about her cheeks, which had a sunken-in look, but her beauty was still apparent, even in sickness. Because the illness was of a spiritual nature and not a physical one, her gentle breathing was even, and she really did look like she was only sleeping.
With the intent of this visit, Demos had inked a seraph mark just big enough for the occasion, one on his left hand. When he’d last visited her, he’d been accompanied by the queen, and therefore there had been no privacy. Now alone with her, he took her left hand in his, his palm to the back of hers, and pressed his other hand on top. A few whispered words and he closed his eyes in concentration. Then stepped into the In-Between.
“Sister Lordes, Daughter of Light, let me see you,” he sent out into the ether.
All around him, from above and below, was a thick silver fog that had no substance, no sound, no scent. Sparks began to gather in the distance in front of him and he willed his awareness in that direction.
Muted voices faded in and out. A shrill scream cut off, only to resume again in eerie waves. The sparks grew until the fog was rent through with a rip, exposing a scene of winter forest. A hole resembling a giant eye on its side revealed itself, the edges undulating with lilac light.
