Weranda sank into a deep, perfect curtsey, her forehead almost touching the floor. She held the pose for several seconds before she straightened up; as she did so, Lizaveta heard a respectful tap at the door.
"Enter, Supplicant."
The door opened to reveal the small, but quite portly figure of Sister Jass.
"I ordered you to summon the Score and then keep watch on the road!” Lizaveta snapped.
"Begging your pardon, Reverend Mother,” Jass said, wringing her hands, “but Sister Morlan is keeping watch from the East Turret-"
"I am well aware of that, Sister. I presume you have received some report from her?"
"Yes, Reverend Mother,” said the Sister in a breathy squeak. “She-Sister Morlan, that is-reports that some winged monster is flying around the Priory grounds. I thought it best if you were informed."
Afelnor's hell-beast friend, no doubt, Lizaveta thought. This must be some preliminary reconnaissance.
"Let him go, Sister. We have no desire to raise any suspicions. Wait until the creature has departed before you leave the Priory. From now on, I wish to remain undisturbed unless any untoward events are noted; pass the word."
"As you command, Reverend Mother."
The two Sisters departed the Chapel, leaving Lizaveta alone with her dark thoughts.
Afelnor is a strong one, she thought. Even I do not feel to confront him alone. However, despite his power, he is no more than a boy, with a boy's desires and a boy's weakness. With his heart's desire begging for his help, he will walk straight in here as if his heels were on fire.
Lizaveta smiled. If all went well, this young, powerful fool, this Weapon of the Guild, might soon be hers: a potent Weapon of her very own, with which she could tear down the Ancient and Honourable Guild of Magic-users, Sorcerers and Thaumaturges itself.