Chap’s tall ears pricked up.
Hopefully, he understood she had to stay where she was. But as Wynn dropped her eyes to look at Shade, she realized the dog had gone silent.
Shade looked up, and another memory rose in Wynn’s mind.
Wynn saw in her mind Chane’s blacked-out scroll unrolled before her. It was from a memory of when she had once sat upon the cold stone floor of her room, trying to figure out what had been blotted out on that restored parchment.
Blind fear swept through Wynn.
She squelched the memory before it led to one of Chane, and when she looked at Chap again, he was still watching her. Had he seen the scroll in the memory Shade had recalled? Shade fully understood what was necessary. But had Chap caught anything more that Wynn had let slip into her thoughts?
All that mattered was that Wynn remained here. The archives were her only hope for figuring out whatever was left to find in that scroll. After all, no matter what happened here, she was in no danger from her own superiors.
But where was Chane?
Chane Andraso stood in the darkness of Wynn’s room, watching the courtyard below through the one narrow window. He had only just returned from Dhredze Seatt, the stronghold of the dwarves on the peninsula across the bay. The orb that he and Wynn had found was now safe with Ore-Locks, taken into the depths of the dwarven underworld in the care of Stonewalkers. Having found Wynn’s room empty, Chane knew Shade must be with her. With that little comfort, he had decided to await their return.
It was getting late now, and as his patience waned, his worry grew. Then, standing at the window, he spotted Wynn and Shade suddenly emerge from the keep doors. At the sight of them, his worry drained, replaced by relief.
But then he clutched the window’s deep ledge; his hardening fingernails grated upon its stone.
Following Wynn out the doors were Magiere, Leesil, and Chap.
His initial shock faded, replaced by hate-fueled hunger, all of it fixed upon Magiere. Wynn’s true companions were back. Where did that leave him?
He dropped a hand to his sword’s hilt. Back on his home continent, these three had hunted him like an animal—like a monster. They viewed any undead as an enemy without question. This had culminated one night in which he had hesitated in killing Magiere, at Wynn’s pleading.
In turn, Magiere had not hesitated. In one swipe of her falchion, she had taken his head.
Although Chane had managed to come back from that second death, his hatred for Magiere now almost overrode his love for Wynn. If Magiere started anything, he would not hesitate again. He would be the one to finish it this time. But all his rage wavered as five sages came out of the far building, with Premin Sykion in the lead.
Chane’s gaze paused at the sight of Premin Hawes, and he grew even more lost as to what was happening down there.
Should he go down? No, that would only make things worse ... for Wynn.
Chane did not believe Wynn could ever be in physical danger from her own people, so for the moment, he stood there and watched.
Leesil grew more alarmed and uncertain with each breath. As soon as the dark-haired sage in the dark blue robe went at Wynn, he realized he’d lost control here. Magiere, Chap, and Shade had reacted instantly, not that Leesil blamed any of them. There had to be a way to get Wynn out of here. But when Wynn shouted for all of them to stop, she’d focused on Chap, and both dogs had gone suddenly quiet.
Leesil watched the dogs, waiting for some memory to rise at Chap’s urging that might tell him what was happening. What did Wynn want them to do?
“Remove her,” ordered the tall, aged woman with the long braid.
The dark-haired sage took hold of Wynn’s upper arm and started pulling her toward the building where Wynn had first been heading. Before Leesil could even look back, he teetered as Magiere’s pressure vanished. Dropping the chest quickly, he tried to grab for her, but she slapped away his hand and went straight at the dark-haired sage.
Chap snarled in warning, rushing in on the outside of Magiere, but he spun to face away from her. As Leesil bolted in, he saw what Chap faced.
Only one sage, the woman with bristling steely hair, had stepped out beyond the others. She stood poised three strides beyond Chap. With one hand outstretched, palm down with her narrow fingers relaxed in an arch, it looked as if she might gently lay that hand upon Chap’s head if she drew closer. But the eyes in that passive, stern face were fixed on Magiere as Leesil caught up.
Wynn twisted in her escort’s grip and shoved a hand straight into Magiere’s sternum.
“No!”
Both Leesil and Wynn’s voices came in the same instant as Leesil grabbed the shoulder of Magiere’s cloak.
“I’m not leaving you!” Magiere growled, the words slurred too much.
Leesil grew more anxious. If Magiere lost control here, everything would go straight to all seven hells at once.
Wynn grabbed the collar of Magiere’s hauberk and jerked hard, forcing Magiere to look down at her.
“Not this way,” she warned, and looked to Leesil, shaking her head again. “Not now, but soon. Go.”
Wynn clearly wanted to avoid any confrontation here, as did Leesil and likely Chap. Leesil pulled Magiere away, though she wouldn’t take her eyes off Wynn. All this time, Shade just sat at the door Wynn was dragged toward, as if waiting and knowing how it all had to end.
Wynn, Shade, and the escort sage vanished from sight. As the door thumped shut, Magiere jerked free of Leesil’s grip, turning toward the other sages in the courtyard. The one beyond Chap had lowered her hand, though Leesil couldn’t figure what that had been about.
Before Magiere took another step, Chap wheeled on her and huffed twice for “No.”
“Wynn wants it this way,” Leesil whispered in Belaskian.
Something in his voice or his words must have gotten through to Magiere. She stood rigid, eyeing all who had cut them off from Wynn.
“What do you think you are doing?” she nearly spat. “Get her back out here.”
The remaining four sages, especially the one with hair like a gray porcupine, just stood there looking back, but mostly eyeing Leesil and ignoring Magiere. The woman with the long gray braid struck Leesil as ... imperious. He didn’t like her.
“This is an internal affair and no concern of yours,” she said coldly. “Leave or I will summon the Shyldfälches to remove all of you. You can ponder and learn our customs and laws from inside a garrison cell.”
None of this was playing out at all as Leesil had expected. He, Magiere, and Chap had only arrived in the city tonight. They’d come straight here, anxious to find Wynn and the hospitality of the guild. Through Wynn, Leesil had known the ways of the sages for several years, or thought he did. The few things he hadn’t worried about upon arriving were an open welcome, warm food, and a decent bed.
This was nothing like what he knew of sages. What was going on?
Chap huffed once and started toward the gatehouse tunnel. Confused and uncertain, Leesil made the choice to follow his companion since his youth. He snatched up the travel chest and hoped that Wynn had somehow told Chap something to make sense out of all of this.
“We have to go now,” he whispered to Magiere. “We can’t help her if we’re locked up.”
Magiere’s head swung toward him, and thankfully her irises hadn’t flooded black. At least she still controlled her inner nature.