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A few moments later, Ovir carried a silver tray into the room, pushing the door shut with his foot as he passed. He delivered the tray to the stand between their chairs, and Gavin saw three decanters and an assortment of glasses on the tray.

“Tea, juice, and wine are the easiest refreshments I have,” Ovir said, “and you’re welcome to any or all of them. If there’s something else you prefer, I’m sure it can be found somewhere in the temple.”

“Thank you, Ovir,” Gavin said. “These will be just fine.”

Gavin selected the juice and poured a glass for himself before offering it to Ovir. Ovir shook his head and retrieved the teapot. For several moments, silence reigned as both men enjoyed their chosen beverages.

At last, Ovir said, “So, what matter weighs so heavily upon you that you would come to me, Gavin?”

“Well, it’s about something that was discovered after I won the duel with Rolf Sivas,” Gavin said.

For the next several minutes, Gavin outlined everything that had happened, explaining the underground room and all the evidence found therein. Throughout the whole discourse, Ovir sat in silence, sipping his tea.

“So, that’s where we stand,” Gavin said, concluding his presentation. “The Conclave voted to invoke Article 35 and invested me with their collective authority.”

“My, my,” Ovir said. “You do have yourself a bit of a problem there, don’t you? Naturally, you have my full support, and you may draw upon the temple’s resources however you need. This is a messy business, and this stratagem doesn’t feel like something the king would put forth.”

“Oh?” Gavin said. “You think he’s innocent?”

Ovir chuckled before he said, “Certainly not. However, the king is by no means an intellectual giant, and he’s about as spineless a man as I’ve ever seen. This is much too cunning a plot for his capabilities. Still…that doesn’t help you resolve the situation. From the sounds of it, you’re just getting yourselves organized, yes?”

Gavin nodded, saying, “That’s correct. We discovered the situation once I recovered from the shock of Marcus’s death.”

“Very well. Continue with your preparations, and keep me informed. When you go to face down this mercenary army Sivas is assembling, the Warpriests of Tel shall march with you.”

“Thank you, Ovir,” Gavin said. “I appreciate your support.”

Ovir smiled and said, “Think nothing of it, lad. Even if I were not a close friend of your mentor, this whole business is utter rubbish. It needs to be stopped before it kicks off a civil war unlike anything we’ve seen since the Godswar.”

Gavin whistled to himself as he walked back to the College. After securing Ovir’s support for their mission, Gavin and Ovir spent the afternoon engrossed in a conversation that ranged across a great many topics, including Marcus and Kiri. The time spent conversing with Ovir somehow lifted the weight Gavin had been feeling, and Gavin found himself relaxed for the first time in what seemed like months.

Gavin was just reaching the outskirts of the city markets when he spied the dress shop Lillian and Kiri enjoyed visiting. A dress in the window caught his eye. It was cobalt blue with forest green trim, and Gavin was turning to reach for the door’s handle, intent on buying the dress for Kiri, when someone struck him from behind. The world went black.

Chapter 50

Declan stepped out of the Grand Stair and approached the door to Gavin’s suite. He pressed the tattoo on his left wrist to the metal plate, and the latching mechanism clicked open. Declan entered the suite and was just turning from pushing the door closed when Kiri almost skidded to a stop outside the room she shared with Gavin.

“What’s wrong?” Declan asked.

“Is Gavin with you?”

Declan shook his head, saying, “No. We went separate ways. Why?”

“He’s not home yet. I would’ve thought he’d be home by now.”

Declan pivoted on his heel, leaving the suite and striding down the hall. He stopped at the door to the Mivar suite and applied the base of his fist to the door until Lillian opened it.

“What is it, Declan?”

“Could you please sit with Kiri?” Declan asked. “Gavin isn’t home yet, and I’m going to the temple. It could be nothing, but Kiri could probably use a friend right now.”

Lillian nodded, saying, “Of course, Declan. I’ll go sit with her.”

* * *

Ovir Thatcherson entered his quarters and began removing his vestments. Even though the shrine downstairs was open day and night, Ovir no longer had any duties. He could rest and relax at long last.

Ovir was just about to disrobe and change into more comfortable attire when a shadow beside the armoire said, “Have you seen Gavin Cross today?”

Ovir spun, his eyes searching for the source of the voice as he said, “Identify yourself.”

The shadow beside the armoire moved, revealing a man in matte black leather armor. The hood and mask he wore obscured all but his eyes.

“Who I am is not important, Ovir Thatcherson,” the man said. “We believe Gavin Cross to be missing, and when last he was seen, he was on his way to visit you. So, I ask you again: have you seen Gavin Cross today?”

Ovir took the few steps necessary to approach the man and reached out to pull down the neckline of the armor just enough to see the base of the man’s neck. He bore no blood red symbol, and Ovir breathed easier.

“Forgive me,” Ovir said as he stepped back. “I prefer not to converse with Lornithrasa. I did indeed speak with Gavin today, but it has been some time since he left. Long before the evening service, even.”

Ovir closed his eyes and lowered his head, whispering the words to a prayer. In his mind, a scene played out in a hazy image as if he were watching it first-hand through fog. He saw Gavin Cross stop at a dress shop in the North Market; Gavin seemed to be looking at a dress. He saw Gavin reach for the door as two men came up behind, one striking him across the back of the head. Then, they carried Gavin’s insensate form away.

Ovir took a deep breath and let it out as a sigh, before saying, “Gavin has been taken. I didn’t recognize the men who did it, but I couldn’t see their faces, either.”

“Show me,” the man said.

“I regret that I cannot. Unlike a wizard’s scrying sphere, the effects of my divination spells are granted to me-and me alone-by Valthon Himself. Gavin was standing in front of a dress shop in the North Market when he was struck from behind.”

The man said nothing more and stepped through the doorway of Ovir’s bedroom. When Ovir followed, the man was nowhere to be seen.

Ovir smiled at the empty suite and returned to his bedroom. He crossed to an armoire opposite the one the man had been crouching beside and pulled a key from his pocket. Ovir unlocked the armoire and opened the doors, revealing the burnished armor of a Warpriest of Tel. A shield lay against one side of the armoire, and a flanged mace sat on its head in the opposite corner.

Ovir stood in silence, looking at the armoire and its contents. At last, he closed the armoire once more and locked it. Ovir turned instead to the bell-rope that hung in the corner. He gave the rope a pull and walked to meet the acolyte that would be running to answer his summons.

Ovir met the young man in the common room of his suite, and he couldn’t help smiling at seeing it was the young man who’d pursued Gavin through the Temple earlier that day.

“Yes, sir?” the acolyte said.

“Summon the leadership of the Warpriests,” Ovir said. “I need to see them at once.”

* * *

It was a ramshackle building in the northwest corner of the Outskirts, the collection of wooden construction that had grown up around Tel Mivar over the centuries. In this section, the streets were well-trodden dirt, and the foul-smelling miasma hanging over the hovels was a cloud of despair and hopelessness few would ever escape.