As Emriana grabbed at the next handhold and began to haul herself up, there was a bright flash of light overhead and a gout of flame roared down from above, directly at her.
CHAPTER 9
Pilos hurried along a dimly lit and rather uninteresting corridor toward the narrow door at the far end. Though the chances of the Abreeant encountering another priest in that particular section of the temple-a seldom-used wing devoted primarily to storage-at that time of the night was unlikely, he did not wish to be seen. Even the suggestion of impropriety on his part would make the young priest lose his nerve and return to his quarters. And his quarters were the last place in which he wished to spend any more time.
True to his expectations, none of the high priests of Waukeen had sent any kind of word to Pilos on the Grand Syndar's condition in well over a day. As the Abreeant had suspected, Grand Trabbar Lavant had had no intention of keeping Mikolo's attendant informed of the old man's health or potential for recovery. Though he had tried to remain obedient, Pilos could not stand to await news any longer.
Of course, the Abreeant could not approach the Grand Syndar's chambers and demand an explanation. At the very least, the high priests would order him back to his chambers with an admonition to perform some penance for his indiscipline. At worst, they might permanently remove him from his duties and assign him to baser tasks as punishment.
If they didn't just decide I was unfit to serve Waukeen altogether, he silently lamented.
With that thought, Pilos nearly halted his progress and spun around to return to his rooms as fast as he could. The very idea of being denied the opportunity to bathe in the glory that was the Merchant's Friend was abhorrent, and part of Pilos dared not even consider the consequences of what he was preparing to do in place of a frontal confrontation.
When the priest reached the end of the small hallway, where the narrow door faced him, he paused, taking a deep breath and peering back over his shoulder one last time to make certain there was no one there to witness his transgression. Satisfied that he was alone, Pilos slipped a key into the lock of the wooden door, twisted it, and half smiled at the sound and feel of the faint click. Nervously, he pushed the door open, slipped inside, and hurriedly shut it again.
In the dark Pilos could see nothing, so he clutched at his holy coin, which hung from a chain around his neck, and muttered a quick prayer to Waukeen. Instantly a tiny ball of illumination appeared, conjured onto the coin. The light was sufficient for him to see the entirety of the small room, the same as if he had lit a torch, though the glow of his coin was of a more pearly hue, like moonlight. He let the symbol settle back against his breast and peered about.
It was nothing more than a storage closet, a small room lined with shelves on the walls holding linens that were not in use during the summer season. In the fall, when the weather cooled once more, the inhabitants of the temple would very likely retrieve the warmer bedclothes, but for the moment, no one would venture into the closet for any reason…
Unless they knew something unique about the chamber, as Pilos did.
When he had first been raised to the level of Abreeant and awarded, for his pious service in the temple, the position of servitude to the Grand Syndar himself, Pilos discovered a few secrets-or rather, he was taught those secrets by the Grand Syndar himself-about the architecture of the temple. One such secret was the numerous concealed passages that threaded their way through the temple structure, passing through the thickest of the walls and following narrow and steep staircases to different levels. The Grand Syndar seldom used those covert passageways, but they were there in cases of dire need. As Mikolo explained it at the time, one never knew when the Grand Syndar might need to move from one locale within the temple to another "unmolested," as the old man had put it.
Pilos had never been able to imagine what use the Grand Syndar might have had for such secretive modes of travel, but he did not question their existence, nor did he ever reveal to anyone else that he was aware of them. Right then, he was feeling more than a little gratified that the Grand Syndar had seen fit to share their presence with him.
Moving to the back of the closet, Pilos stared at the shelving attached to the wall for a few moments, trying to recall exactly how the Grand Syndar had made them function. He remembered something about a loose stone, but he could not recall exactly which one might be suitable. He shrugged and began to feel with his hands each of the stones that made up the wall. After the fourth or fifth one, he began to grow frustrated.
Perhaps it wasn't a stone at all, he thought, pondering.
Then the young priest remembered. There had been a loose stone at chest height, but it was on the other side of the wall. From the closet side, the trigger mechanism was actually one of the shelves. In fact, Pilos remembered, it was the bottommost shelf. He reached down and felt with his fingers along the bottom of the lowest one. When they brushed across a small stud, he pressed it in and tugged. The entire shelf shifted, and there was a deep click from inside the stone wall. Very carefully, Pilos stood and pushed against the wall, watching with satisfaction when it swung backward, revealing the narrow passageway beyond.
Quickly, before he could lose his nerve, Pilos scurried through the opening and pushed the swinging section of wall back again, until he heard it click shut. Sighing, he wondered if he would be able to figure out how to open it again, but he did not stop to determine which stone was the correct one right then. Instead he turned and began to follow the passage, guided by his glowing coin.
After a short walk down a dusty and cobweb-filled corridor, the passage split into a four-way intersection, and Pilos considered for a brief moment the correct route. When he'd made up his mind, he turned to the right, went down some steep stairs, and turned left at another intersection. He continued to follow that passage for quite some time, passing a couple of different points where he knew other doors were camouflaged in the stonework. Finally, Pilos turned a last corner and found himself in a dead end.
Bolstering his courage, he moved right to the very end of the hallway and stepped on a smallish projection rising up from the floor in one corner. The resulting click was barely audible, but Pilos held his breath anyway, ready to bolt if there was any indication that someone on the far side of the secret portal had heard it open. The distinct sound of voices began to issue through the slender crack that had formed, but they did not change in pitch or volume. When he was at last satisfied that no one had detected his presence, Pilos pulled the door slightly more ajar, peeking through the crack that widened. The door opened into a small alcove in Mikolo Midelli's study where an elegant statue of Waukeen rested.
It was clear to the young man that several people had gathered in the Grand Syndar's study and that they were most likely clustered around Mikolo's desk. Pilos could recognize almost every voice there, realizing that many of the high priests of the temple had congregated in the chamber and were engaged in a heated debate. Their words stung Pilos as sure as if they had slapped him physically.
"And I say that the Grand Syndar has not yet gone on to meet with the Merchant's Friend, and you are blasphemous for even discussing a successor, yet." That was the voice of Grand Trabbar Perolin, usually a soft-spoken priest who was kind to everyone. He was one of Pilos's favorites.
"Surely you are not so naive as to believe his recovery is possible?" asked another, Grand Trabbar Huleea, a diminutive, scowling woman who always seemed to glare at lesser priests unless they appeared busy or in prayer. "You've been a part of the healing circle; you can sense as well as any of us here that Mikolo Midelli is not long for this world."