I shuddered. She could have been telling me my future step by step and I’d never know it when it was spoken in a tongue like that.
The Tongue, the voice in my head said smugly. I told you it was on the door, sweetmeat. She’s reading it to you. If she weren’t so haggard, mayhap I’d try to occupy her mortal vessel.
I didn’t like having ancient warnings read in their original languages by people who were standing far too close. I tried to shuffle a step to the side to regain my composure, but the Seer followed me. Annoyed, I swallowed the words that tried to bubble up and kept my eyes focused forward.
The High Saint made a chopping gesture with his hand. “I claim the right to lead the way. I arrived here first, and so it is mine for the taking. Draw as you like for those who come after, but we will not draw for first.”
The Prince Paladin opened his mouth, but then he looked to the Poisoned Saint, and when Adalbrand shook his head minutely, the Prince’s mouth shut with a click.
Good, the voice in my head said. Keep the dog close. Watch.
Whoever had just given that advice was right. I may have been brave and determined to serve my order, but I had no need to present my back to these others. All of them watched one another with steely gazes and stone faces, and if a knife were to come at me, it would be planted directly into my back. Who knew what grudges these might bear to me — not personally, perhaps, but for the aspect I represented?
I had none of the information I needed about things at Saint Rauche’s Citadel. For all I knew, the Vagabond Paladins had — at last — banded together and were now one, riding across every territory and stirring the people up to push higher than kings. Or perhaps they waged wars and allowed the wicked to flourish. How would I know? If any of it were true, I’d deserve the knife in the back these others might plant there. I had not thought before about how our aspect’s wanderings left us vulnerable to a lack of information.
“Are there any objections to the High Saint leading the way?” the Majester General asked. And when no one spoke, he nodded to the man. “Then I grant him leave to enter the door first, and after him the Seer, and after her the Engineers, and after …”
He rattled on, but my mind wandered as I traced the edges of the door. It was set in the empty courtyard. A door from nothing to nothing. How the others thought it would lead somewhere was beyond my understanding.
Faith. They have faith that something is here. I think that perhaps I wasn’t very good at teaching you these large, demonstrative ways of having faith.
He’d taught me faith in important things, though. Faith when it really mattered. When you didn’t know what else to do. When the food was gone or the child was gasping for breath.
That’s the kind that counts. This kind … well, it’s not usually for us.
And was there something here behind the door?
So much more than you imagine, snackling. You’re going to love this next part — or at least, I will.
The High Saint stepped forward, made the sigil of the God across his body, and then reached for the door handle.
The door did not open.
He tugged harder. Either it was wedged or locked.
Hefertus cleared his throat. “If I may.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, and when they opened, they glowed with a faint light. He pressed his hand against the stone face of the door and even his large, tanned hand seemed fragile and temporary against that ancient rock.
“Blessings be upon this door.”
The door swung inward and our breath caught in our throats, for it did not show the courtyard on the other side of the door, but rather steps that led down to a wide landing with a railing. From the center of the landing was an opening that must lead to more stairs, but from here it was hard to see much in the way of detail.
“And what would we have done if he wasn’t here?” the Penitent Paladin whispered nervously to whoever was next to him.
What, indeed.
“Thank you, Prince Paladin,” the High Saint said acerbically, and before anything more could be said, he stepped promptly forward and froze in the doorway.
He struggled for a moment like a fly in a spider’s web, mouth opening and closing though no sound came forth.
I heard the Seer curse softly beside me, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from the sight of the High Saint affixed in place, his movements growing fainter as his energy faded.
So. That was why the demon kept telling me not to be first.
Confess! He must confess! The demon in my mind crowed. Or he will be trapped forever and time herself will slowly dissolve him in her wide mouth. I would not mind so much, except I think you’ll leave before I get to watch his despair ferment to a proper vintage.
I swallowed down a lump of bile, casting looks to either side to see if anyone else had noticed what was needed.
