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He rode the currents of Kurald Galain, but for all their enticements, from the fascinating patterns and sly invitations of the Terondai to the red tears of Mother Dark’s eyes – unable to look away in the palms of the priest, Endest Silann – Orfantal found himself drawn back to the High Priestess, who still sat alone in her chamber, gaze heavy upon the slightly open door, as if awaiting someone.
But for the moment, none in the Citadel had thought to seek her out, despite the two strangers who had unlocked the pattern of passage in the Terondai – one of its many wondrous gifts – and disappeared from sight. The discovery of a murdered guard in the corridor leading to the Chamber of Night had sent alarm winging among the Houseblades and their officers,
only to somehow deftly avoid – by choice or chance – the many acolytes of the priesthood.
She sat unknowing, then, her right leg folded over the left, like a queen upon a throne.
Distant agitations in the sorcerous darkness brushed Orfantal’s awareness, and a moment’s focus made out, in his mind’s eye, the figures of Silchas Ruin, Captain Kellaras, and a woman Houseblade, hurrying towards the Chamber of Night.
Orfantal hesitated. Seeing too much made things complicated all over again. His spirit, wandering in this way, possessed no voice, and what it heard was thin and muted, as if every sound came through walls. He could draw as close as he liked to Emral Lanear, but make nothing known of his presence.
That was probably just as well. Some things had a way of frightening people. Even so, he groped for a means of warning her that things were happening, and that blood had been spilled outside the Chamber of Night.
So intent was his focus upon her now, he was caught unawares by the sudden arrival of Endest Silann.
But she looked up and seemed to sag in her throne. ‘If only we could all find someone else to carry our anguish,’ she said.
The priest, looking ashen and drained, tilted his head slightly. ‘Or send it out and away in white streams of smoke.’
‘If she regrets her lack of success,’ Lanear replied, ‘at last we find common ground.’
‘There has been violence in the Chamber of Night.’
The High Priestess drew hard on the mouthpiece, then spoke with held breath. ‘The realm beyond those doors is a fraught place.’
‘A Shake assassin reached that realm.’
She let out a slow, lengthy sigh of smoke. ‘Caplo Dreem returned, then. To finish whatever he intended the first time.’
‘You seem unconcerned.’
‘Was she?’
‘Lord Draconus defeated the assassin. Apparently. Terribly wounded and naked, Caplo re-emerged, too weak to resist arrest by Lord Silchas Ruin. A few words were exchanged before the assassin fell unconscious. There is talk of summary execution. And a pronouncement of war upon the Shake.’
‘Tell me of her concern.’
Silann’s gaze fell. ‘I cannot. But Lord Draconus did not escape unharmed from the encounter. She attends him with … solicitude.’
‘Where is Cedorpul?’
‘High Priestess, I unleashed magic in the city. I sought to bless the citizens of Kharkanas, in ways she might desire – if only she would tell us. Instead …’ His voice caught then, and it was a moment before he could continue. ‘Anger proves a poor fuel for forgiveness.’
‘Cedorpul?’
‘It fell to an Eleint, descending from the sky, to halt my … my largesse.’
‘All on this day?’ Abruptly, Lanear laughed, only to stifle the sound. ‘Forgive me, Endest. I was, for some time here, musing on the span of a single bowl’s pleasure. The world is a place of many rooms indeed, but in this one, I knew the luxury of peace.’ She slowly set the mouthpiece down on to its silver tray. ‘Where, I ask a third time, is Cedorpul?’
‘I am informed, High Priestess, that with grievous outrage and indignation, Cedorpul has set out upon the trail of Warlock Resh and the Warden officer who accompanied him through the Gate of Darkness.’
‘Alone?’
‘So I understand. I knew a fever following my audience with the dragon. All I can report is what I was subsequently told.’
‘A fever. Yours or hers?’
He shrugged.
