Vrell knocked on the antechamber door. When no one answered, she crept inside. The antechamber had cooled since her visit the previous evening. A few glowing embers smoldered in the fireplace. The other two doors were identical to the first: cedar panels held together by a diagonal plank and rounded at the top. She knocked at the one on the left first. When no answer came, she pushed it open and saw that it led to another dark antechamber. This room had no other doors, no windows, and no fireplace — just a completely empty stone room, like some sort of dungeon cell.
Vrell closed the door, noting that it locked from the inside only. For some reason this brought relief. She could not be locked in. She walked to the other door and knocked.
Master Hadar’s muffled voice said, “Enter.”
Vrell took a deep breath and pushed open the door. She entered a bright, sweltering room. This appeared to be Master Hadar’s bedchamber. It sat on the east side of the stronghold. The morning sun shone through three large windows on the east wall, spilling long beams of sunlight across the wooden floor. Despite the natural heat, a fire blazed in a hearth twice the size of the one in the antechamber.
Master Hadar sat on the end of a canopied bed like a mini king, his feet resting on a small stone slab, ugly toes poking out the ends of his satin slippers. Thick, grey, wool tapestries hung around his bed. He did not seem fond of color.
Master Hadar’s sunken eyes watched her, but he said nothing, compelling Vrell to speak.
“Good morning, Master. Am I late?”
“No. Carlani has not yet returned with breakfast.”
Vrell wondered how long ago Carlani had left and if he would return before lunch.
Master Hadar pointed a gnarled finger at a small table sitting under the center window. “Bring that here.”
Vrell blinked, then walked across the room. She stole a glance out the window. The entrance to the stronghold stretched out below, the shining sun casting a golden glow onto the stone buildings. In the distance, beyond the parapet wall enclosing the city, the Lebab Inlet edged the skyline like a shimmering, silver blanket.
Lovely.
The table was tall and awkward but not heavy. Vrell lugged it toward the bed.
“Here.” Master Hadar pointed to his feet. “Then we can eat.”
Vrell positioned the table over the stone slab. Master Hadar pointed to a stool in the corner. Vrell fetched that as well, which he had her set opposite him.
Then he pointed to the mantle above the hearth. “There’s an old bronze ring. Fetch it.”
The mantle sat a foot higher than Vrell’s eyes. She reached up to the dusty surface and felt along the top. Carlani was not much of a housekeeper.
“No, no. The other end.”
Vrell moved to the opposite end and found the ring. She held it up.
Master Hadar nodded. “That’s right. Bring it here.”
Vrell carried the ring to her master and set it in front of him on the table.
He did not pick it up but looked at her with his sunken grey eyes. “Sit.”
Vrell sat on the stool.
“Find Carlani.”
Vrell blinked. “Master? You want me to find him?” Perhaps Master Hadar was as hungry as she was. Waiting for Carlani on a regular basis must get frustrating.
“That’s right. Close your eyes and concentrate.”
Of course. Time to learn. She hoped he would not touch her again. Jax’s warning came to mind. She would be wary of becoming this man’s pawn. Vrell closed her eyes and focused. A massive coldness loomed before her and she shivered. She assumed that was Master Hadar closing off his mind. Strange that she could sense his closed mind but had not sensed anything from Jax or Khai. Did that make the knights stronger or weaker?
She pictured the old servant in her head. She thought about Carlani’s wrinkled face, his hunched posture, his white ponytail, and his tiny brown bird eyes. She furrowed her brow but could not sense him. That either meant he was too far away or he was blocking her. She opened her eyes.
Master Hadar was staring, the wrinkled skin hanging from his cheeks as if it might slide off. Crescents of pink flesh peeked out from under his sunken eye sockets. How was it a man could have no eyebrows? He reached his twisted fingers above the ring and slid it toward her with one finger, the bronze scraping across the polished wooden surface. “Try again, holding this.” He lifted his finger off the ring.
Goosebumps broke out over Vrell’s arms at the curious humming tone of his voice. He expected a different outcome with this ring. Was it magic? Vrell did not want to play with mage magic. Arman would not approve.
She gulped and picked up the ring. She gripped it in her fist and closed her eyes again. Before she could even try to picture the white-haired valet, she found him in a kitchen.
“…doesn’t like it. But add a bit of bacon for the boy and some milk. Skin and bones, he is,” Carlani said.
“Would you like if I carried it up for yeh?” a girl’s voice asked.
“Oh, that would be nice, Mags. It’s such a long walk, and I could use the company.”
Mags sighed. “No. I meant I’d deliver…oh, never you mind.” She picked up a tray, and the aroma of bacon, tea, and toast filled Vrell’s nostrils. She inhaled a deep breath.
A throaty chuckle popped Vrell’s eyelids open. Master Hadar’s thin lips twisted in a smile revealing brown teeth. “Found him, did you?”
Vrell nodded. “I smelled the bacon.”
Master Hadar wrinkled his nose. “I don’t eat meat.”
Vrell set the ring back on the table. “Is it a magic ring?”
“Magic? No. It belongs to Carlani. I use it to find him quicker. The older I get, the harder it is for me. I have to resort to the tricks of my youth.”
“Tricks?”
“The ring.” Master Hadar reached out a crooked finger and pulled the ring toward him. “What do you know of bloodvoicing?”
“Very little.”
“Well, bloodvoicing is the ability to hear the thoughts and share the experiences of others. You can learn to use it on any living thing. However, those who have the gift can learn to block others out. That you already know how to do.”
Vrell nodded.
“If you tried to seek out a friend, someone you know very well, you should be able to find them without help. But if you haven’t seen them in a while or don’t know them, are out of practice or weak from illness or age, it helps to have something of theirs. Personal belongings increase connection.”
Which was why Khai had stolen her coin purse.
“You’ve a question?” Master Hadar asked.
“No.” Vrell shifted on her stool, not liking that this man could tell when she was thinking, if not what. “Yes, actually. Why me? Why did I get this gift?”
“It travels through blood, hence its name. It’s an ability that was bestowed upon King Echâd, the first king of Er’Rets, when the father god, Arman, gave him rule of this land. To be able to hear and influence the thoughts of others is a gift only the gods have. But King Echâd was given that ability to aid in his rule. The gift passed through his bloodline the same as any human trait: brown hair, blue eyes, crooked teeth…”
Master Hadar coughed. “Not all his descendants were born with the ability. Of those who were, each had a variation of the gift. No one has ever had the full power that King Echâd originally had.”
“So I am a descendant of King Echâd?” Vrell knew this already, but she wanted to confirm she understood the gift properly.
“You must be.”
“How was it you sensed me in Walden’s Watch?”