Then the air burst into life. Even with his eyes closed, Isak could feel the shadows dancing past, running questing fingers over his face and head. Tila moved closer to him, hiding in the lee of his large frame as the wind played through her hair and tugged at her clothes, The air grew dense, pressing the two of them together as the wind rushed and raged.
With his eyes closed, Isak could feel their swift movement down until, with a jolt, they arrived at the bottom and the wind melted away to nothing. When Tila dared to look up, there was only the gloom of the lower chamber and the now-still chalk markings on the wall.
Isak turned to look at her – suddenly aware of the closeness of her body from when she'd instinctively leaned towards him – but as he did so Tda took a smart step away and busied herself tidying her hair. Bobbing low in a curtsey she backed towards the door. Thank you, my Lord.'
'Will you come to see me again?' As the words left his mouth Isak cursed himself for sounding stupid. There was something about her he found comforting – even when her pretty face was clenched in a mask of fear, it felt more welcoming than the blank looks that had greeted him in the dining hall.
'Of course, my Lord. I am your personal maid,' she said. 'Your chambers and meals will be my responsibility.' At last she met his eyes, this time she looked at him as if he were human, not just some white-eye, which pleased him.
'Oh. Well, good,' he said, finding his voice again. 'But that's n what I meant. I meant to talk. I don't know anyone here, or what Nartis's name I should be doing. Put me in the middle of a forest and
I can survive, but this place is beyond me. I was never taught much in the way of history, or etiquette.'
'Of course, my Lord,' Tila repeated, this time with sympathy on her ('I shall await you here tomorrow morning to fetch you to your, akfast. Lord Bahl would probably prefer you to eat in the Great Hall with the Ghosts, but if you need me before, just send someone to find me, Tila Introl, as I'm sure my Lord remembers.'
'Yes of course, Tila Introl, daughter of the Gatekeeper. I, of course, am Isak – just Isak. My family name is Fershin, but like Lord Bahl I was never considered worthy of it.'
Tila opened her mouth, no doubt to apologise, as most people instinctively did at hearing that, before closing it again – much to Isak's relief. The last thing he wanted was her pity.
'But if what Lord Bahl told me is really true, I suppose my name is
Suzerain Anvee now – but let's stick with Isak, shall we?' He smiled
at the notion and saw relief on her face as she curtsied and scurried
away back to her bed. '
As soon as the door shut behind her, whatever he could sense under his feet forced itself into his thoughts and drove all else away. His gaze drifted down to the circle he was standing on. The urge to let his eyelids drift shut grew overpowering as the winged symbol appeared in his mind. As he reached for it, Isak felt a presence beside him. Alarmed, he opened his eyes, but saw nothing until he looked up and realisation dawned at last. He closed his eyes and felt himself in the still tower with the wind rushing all about, but this time he was not alone: there was another with him, one who drew the wind to himself.
Don't you think you've gone far enough tonight? Bahl's voice in his head felt strangely natural, and Isak smiled and nodded, as if the Lord could see him. Maybe he could. There was an edge to the voice which urged caution: down was obviously as large a step as Bahl had said it was. Whatever was calling him from down there wasn't alone.
Isak's curiosity was piqued, but he could tell there was no hurry.
There was a taste of envy in the tower now – whatever was waiting for Isak would not accept Lord Bahl, and the man knew it.Sleep now. Tomorrow will bring challenges enough without the need for you to chase more.
CHAPTER 5
Bahl gave a grunt of approval, satisfied that this time Isak would do as he was told. He withdrew his hand from the central chimney and turned back to Lesarl, who wore a questioning look. •
'He has some skills; the tower accepted his command immediately.'
'That's to be expected, no?'
Tm not sure. This boy is odd; he reacts to magic as if it is the first time he's seeing it – much like I did when I first came here. But he worked the tower with a practised hand.'
'Well, he is younger. You were a member of the Guard for how many years before you were Chosen, twelve? Perhaps your skills developed over that time because you were here, but the Krann's remained latent because he grew up on a wagon-train?'
Bahl didn't reply. From the mantelpiece he picked up a plain wooden pipe, black and scarred from years of use, lit it and settled into a solid armchair by the fire.
'What do you make of him?'
Lesarl sighed. 'By himself, a country boy who'd be a good guardsman and has enough brains to become an officer. He's quiet, which is good; more often than not the loud ones turn out to be maniacs. With those gifts, I have to assume there is more, but I simply cannot read the boy.'
'There is more to him, I'm certain. There's a wildness in his eye8 that I find rather worrying, and yet…' Bahl's voice drifted away,to be replaced by the crackle of the fire. His stared into the flames, like a man looking for signs and portents, and said quietly, 'I saw Aracnan tonight.'
Lesarl gave a start. He had not been expecting that. 'Aracnan? The walker-in-shadows? Was he after the boy?'
‘No. Aracnan does more than just kill. He had been sent to bring Isak here and present him, like the Tyrant of Mustet did for me. ‘I thought such missions were only given to mortals, expendable too considering what happened to the Tyrant afterwards.' Lesarl d in frustration. Without any unnatural skills himself, the Chief Steward would never fully understand that side of the Land.
'More commonly, but not always. Aracnan has frequently been sked to perform tasks by the Gods. It's said that he can hear Death's call wherever he is, that there's some connection between them.' 'And no one has ever tried to find out what? Or have none survived
to tell the truth?'
That's not for me to say. I doubt even a mage's daemon companion would dare tell. A powerful mage might live as long as I do, but Aracnan is immortal, and thus of greater consequence. He is not a good enemy to make, and he likes his secrets.'
'Ah, daemon companions, what I could do with one of those-' Bahl's expression cut that sentence off, but the wistful look on Lesarl's face remained as he continued, 'Oh I know it would be heretical, but mages claim necessity and the priests turn a blind eye. Just think of what my spies could do with-'
'Enough. You've already asked the Archmage about special training for some of his students. Yes, he came to me with that one, outraged at your lack of ethics.'
That treacherous old goat, I'll-'
'You'll take the warning like the good servant that you are,' Bahl snapped. 'I don't remember you suggesting it to me, so let the matter slide. I want the College of Magic close to me and back under our complete control. Now, didn't you have some news for me?'
Lesarl's face brightened as he remembered and he pulled a battered sheaf of parchment from inside his jacket. ‘The reason I actually went to see the Archmage was that he wanted to give me the deciphered copy of Malich's journals at long last. He wasn't happy about it at all.