Now that he thought about it, Bevus’s death had been his starting point, the moment when he had discovered what he really enjoyed in life, and when his destiny had become clear to him.
The king raised his arms to embrace his brother, saying, “Come to me.” As he spoke, he used the Way to change his body into the ghostly semblance of a matronly woman. She had graying hair and sparkling brown eyes, with a slender nose, high cheekbones, and a stern, yet pleasant smile. “Yes, my son,” Tithian said, speaking in the soothing voice of his mother. “Give me one last embrace before we say good-bye.”
As Tithian’s arms closed around his brother’s shoulders, Bevus looked up with horror-stricken eyes. “No!” he screamed.
“Yes,” Tithian replied, pressing his lips to the young man’s cheek. At the same time, the king raised his hand and summoned his bone stiletto. When the weapon appeared in his hand, he brought the blade down between his brother’s shoulder blades. “Good-bye, Bevus.”
FIFTEEN
FYLO’S RETURN
Agis threw the satchel down, then reached out and grabbed Sacha by the topknot, plucking him from midair. “Where are Tithian and the lens?” demanded the noble.
“He never left this tunnel,” answered the head. “The spineless wretch betrayed us all.”
Agis smashed his prisoner into a gleaming wall of black mica. “Liar!”
“Would I be down here if I knew where Tithian was-or the lens?” countered the head. “I came to search for them, the same as you.”
Gripping Sacha’s hair with one hand, the noble slowly surveyed the mica-sheathed room, searching every corner and nook for some sign of what had happened to the king. He did not bother to light the shattered harpoon he had brought as a makeshift torch. The crimson sunlight that spilled through the fissure in the roof illuminated the chamber in bright scarlet colors.
“You’re wasting our time,” said Sacha. “Tithian’s not here. I looked.”
“I’ll look myself,” Agis said, systematically moving along every wall and peering into every dark corner. When he did not find the king, he returned his attention to Sacha. “If you’re telling me the truth, then explain how Tithian disappeared from this room with the lens.”
Sacha rolled his eyes toward the crevice in the roof. The crimson orb of the sun hung about a quarter of the way from the eastern end. “Maybe he climbed,” suggested the head.
Squinting against the glare, Agis studied the crack more carefully. Tilted at a steep, almost vertical angle and covered on both sides with slick sheets of mica, the rift would be a difficult, though not impossible, climb. It was just wide enough for a man to scale by pressing his back against one side and his feet against the other-or, in Tithian’s case, to ascend through levitation.
“You’ll have to think of a better lie than that, Sacha,” Agis said. “From what Sadira has told me, the lens would never fit through that crack.”
“It would if it was in the satchel,” suggested the head.
Agis eyed the satchel. He was tempted to say that the Dark Lens would never fit inside, but he had seen Tithian draw enough objects out of the bag to know that there was something magical about it. “If the Dark Lens was in there, Tithian wouldn’t be gone,” said Agis, casting an eye at the crumpled sack. “He’d never leave it behind.”
In spite of his words, the noble laid Sacha on the ground next to the satchel, placing a foot on the disembodied head to hold him in place. “Still, there’s no harm in checking. How does this thing work?”
“Put your hand inside and picture the lens,” the head said. “If it’s in there, it will come to your hand.”
“What does the lens look like?” the noble asked.
“How should I know?” Sacha snarled.
“Rajaat used it to imbue you with the powers of one of his Champions,” Agis replied, pressing his foot down on the head.
“It’s big, obsidian, and round,” came the strained reply. “That’s all I remember-I was in pain, and the tower was full of flashing light.”
Agis gripped the satchel beneath the elbow of his broken arm, preparing to thrust his good hand inside. Before he did so, he looked down at the head and said, “If this is a trick, I’ll tie you to a rock and drop you in the Bay of Woe.”
“I want to locate the Oracle as much as you do,” snarled Sacha. “And to find out what happened to Tithian.”
Agis put his hand inside the sack and pictured a large obsidian sphere, similar to the ones that they had found in Kalak’s treasury when they killed him. An instant later, he felt the cool, glassy surface of obsidian in his hand. The noble pulled his hand out of the satchel and saw that it contained an obsidian ball about the size of his own head.
“Too small,” hissed Sacha. “Try again.”
Agis tossed the sphere aside and returned his hand to the satchel. This time, however, as he pictured what he imagined the Oracle to look like, he also concentrated on the cool, smooth feel of the glassy stone, hoping the added detail would compensate for never having seen the lens.
When nothing came to his hand, the noble shrugged. “Nothing.”
Sacha looked back toward the ceiling. “Then he had to have taken it out through the crevice,” said the head.
Keeping the satchel tucked under his broken arm, Agis picked Sacha up again. “What about magic, or the Way?” he asked. “Could Tithian have used his powers to take the lens out of here without going through either exit?”
“Anything’s possible with the lens,” said Sacha. “Which is all the more reason we should leave now.”
Agis frowned. “Why are you so anxious to get me out of here?”
“Because that traitor Tithian has a good lead on us,” sneered Sacha. “Let’s go.”
Agis shook his head. “I think not,” he said. “It strikes me that you’re trying to hide something. Tithian’s still down here, isn’t he?”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” hissed Sacha. “You can see for yourself we’re the only ones here.”
“And what about Wyan?” asked the noble. “I suppose you’re going to tell me you don’t know where he is?”
Sacha’s gray eyes widened. “He was supposed to be watching the entrance to the tunnel,” he said. “Didn’t you see him there?”
“No, I didn’t,” Agis growled, stuffing Sacha into the satchel. “And I’m tired of your lies.”
The noble closed the sack and folded the top over to form a tight seal, then, using his knees to help hold it, he bunched it together in a ruffled wad. Next, he tore a strip off his cape and used it to bind the sack closed, using the surest knot he knew. Once that was done, he dropped it near the exit, where he would not forget to pick it up on his way out of the chamber.
The noble began searching the chamber again, this time more carefully. Several times, he used his broken harpoon to scratch away at crannies and niches that seemed suspiciously deep or straight, hoping to find a secret door or hidden passage lurking behind them. Twice he even resorted to peeling sheets of mica off the walls when the light played tricks on his eyes and he thought he had spied a torch flickering behind them.
Agis discovered nothing but more mica. Whatever had become of Tithian, it seemed that he was not here-and the noble doubted that the king had any intention of returning. He looked around the room one last time, then turned to leave.
That was when he heard a giant’s heavy breath puffing down the tunnel.
With his wyvern’s tail wrapped around the Oracle, Tithian continued to fly through the Gray, traveling in what he hoped was the direction from which the red flash had appeared a few moments earlier-or had it been longer? The king had no way of telling. All he could do was flap his leathery wings, keep his nose pointed straight ahead, and hope that he was flying on the correct course.