Without realizing it, he smiled, revealing two rows of sharp white teeth.
"What must I do?"
And there in the dark, while Haaken's new legs continued to grow, Nathifa told him.
CHAPTER NINE
Diran, are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Ghaji asked. "You know a lot more about hiring ships than I do."
Dusk was approaching, and the inner courtyard of the palace was cloaked in shadow. Baroness Calida and Taran had gone inside a while ago. The boy had been eager to have his mother show him his bedroom; tonight would be the first night he'd ever slept in it. Their other companions had already left the courtyard for Kolbyr's docks. Only Ghaji and Diran remained behind-and Leontis. The cloaked priest still sat on the edge of the fountain and stared into the water, as unmoving as any of the animal statues that ringed the fountain.
"Asenka and Hinto know just as much as I, if not more," Diran said. "And thanks to Calida's generosity, we'll be able to hire the fastest ship in port, no matter how much the captain charges. You'll have no difficulty finding a suitable vessel with or without me."
After Solus had identified a destination for them, Diran had told the Baroness that he'd changed his mind about accepting a reward from her. Calida had been only too happy to fund their expedition to Trebaz Sinara.
Diran glanced at Leontis then lowered his voice. "There's a reason my old friend has sought me out, and if I'm to discover what it is, I'll need to speak with him alone."
Ghaji scowled-which didn't surprise Diran since the half-orc scowled all the time, even when he was happy-then nodded once. "Very well. I'll be down at the docks with the others… if you need me."
Diran smiled and clasped his friend's shoulder. "When have I ever not needed you?"
Ghaji grinned. "Truer words were never spoken." Then with a last suspicious look at Leontis, the half-orc turned and left the courtyard.
After Ghaji had departed, Diran stood for a moment regarding Leontis, whose attention was still fixed on the water within the fountain's basin. It hadn't been that many years since Diran had last seen Leontis, and the man looked almost untouched by the passage of time. Oh, there was some gray in his beard, but not much… a few more lines around the eyes, perhaps. But the greatest change in Leontis wasn't physical. He seemed weary, as if he were weighed down by a heavy burden. Depression and spiritual malaise were hardly uncommon among the Purified, especially in those who took the most active role in combating the evils that plagued the world. There was a saying in the Church: "Gaze into the Darkness long enough, and you'll see that the shadows you find there are your own."
And never had that bit of wisdom been driven home for Diran like that night many years ago by the banks of the Thrane River…
"Do you see it?" Diran whispered. "There, up ahead."
There were enough moons in the sky to provide sufficient illumination to allow even someone without an assassin's training for night-work to see. At least, there should have been.
"Where?" Leontis whispered back, sounding vexed.
Diran tried not to sigh. He was fond of Leontis, and they got along well, but he sometimes found it difficult to have patience with his fellow acolyte's lack of experience. "Ahead of us on the riverbank, about a hundred yards away. A mill, I think. That's where the evil is located."
Leontis's teeth flashed white in the moonlight as he smiled. "How much are you willing to wager that Tusya knew about the mill long before we came to the area, and that's why he chose to make camp here?"
Diran smiled in response, but he didn't draw his lips away from his teeth. Emon Gorsedd had taught him to be more cautious than that. A bit of moonlight reflected off one's teeth at the wrong time could well mean the difference between success and failure for an assassin. And failure too often meant death, and not for one's intended target.
"Not a single coin," he said.
The river burbled on their left, its gentle sound accompanied by the soft whisper of the wind. Despite the lateness of the hour, birds sang to one another, perhaps stirred by the blue-white light of the moons, and their trills added notes of beauty to the night's symphony. During his years as an assassin, Diran had learned not to be taken in by false appearances, and this lesson had only been reinforced during his time with Tusya. Just because all seemed peaceful here didn't mean they weren't in danger. Evil all too often disguised itself as innocence and beauty, a sweet-smelling poison waiting for someone foolish enough to drink it, as Aldarik Cathmore might have said.
The two young acolytes approached the mill warily, walking side by side, their footfalls making no sound on the grass as they drew closer to the shadowy structure. Diran hadn't had any formal training in sensing evil. Those sorts of priestly skills-assuming one had an aptitude for them-were taught in seminary. But he had a natural ability, Tusya said, honed by his previous life as a hired killer, and that sense was screaming now. He felt a tingle on the back of his neck, as if burrowing insects had dug their way beneath the skin and were crawling around. Diran had never sensed evil this strong before, and he paused, his gorge rising, and feared he was about to vomit.
Leontis stopped and look at him with concern, but Diran focused his mind just as Emon Gorsedd had taught.
Forget everything, boy. Forget where you are and what you're doing. Forget even who you are, and just breathe. In and out, in and out… until your mind becomes clear.
Diran did as his old teacher had instructed, and after several moments he felt better. He gave Leontis a reassuring nod, and the two of them continued approaching the mill.
When Diran had first begun studying the ways of the Silver Flame with Tusya, he had been reluctant to make use of his assassin's training in any way.
I used those skills in the service of evil, Teacher, Diran had once asked. Doesn't that make the skills themselves evil?
Tusya, as always, had possessed a ready answer for Diran's question.
Skills are simply tools, the priest had said. It's what we do with them that results in good or evil. It would be wasteful for you to abandon skills you already possessed just because you once misused them. Far better to redeem those skills by employing them for good.
"Should we go in together or separately?" Leontis asked. He was well aware of Diran's practical experience as an assassin and, just like Tusya, he didn't hold it against Diran.
Diran considered for a moment. His experience didn't extend to entering lairs of evil without Tusya's guidance.
"Together, I think. If we were facing a mortal foe, it might make sense to approach from different directions. But as our foe is a spiritual creature of some sort, we will be stronger if we remain together and combine our faith against it." Diran frowned. "Besides, I have a feeling that whatever evil lairs within the mill is already well aware of our presence."
"So much the better," Leontis said. "Evil should be confronted head on."
Diran knew that life was never that simple. Sometimes the direct approach got you killed. But he saw no benefit to sharing this information with Leontis right now, and the two acolytes continued making their way steadily and cautiously toward the mill's entrance. It wasn't difficult to find.
Now that they were up close, they could make out the mill's features. There was nothing remarkable about it, nothing to differentiate it from dozens of others Diran had seen before. The mill had been constructed from wood and stone on the eastern bank of the river, and a waterwheel provided the motive force for grinding grain. Effective enough, Diran supposed, though a contained water elemental would've performed more efficiently. Not that it mattered anymore. The wheel hung slightly askew and was frozen in place, resisting the river's current. The mill's stonework remained in good repair, but its wood was weathered, a number of the planks cracked, broken, or missing altogether. The mill had been abandoned for some time, Diran judged. Decades, at least.