"Hurry!" he urged. "If you are here, others will come soon." He paused as if remembering something, and pointed at a bag on the floor. "There's food and water."
She hadn't eaten all day, hadn't even thought of it. She finished lacing her pack closed and hurried over, helping herself to water and a torn hunk of bread. Then she felt suddenly guilty.
Nothing here would sate Chane's hunger.
He stood up, bracing against the wall, and his other hand clenched into a fist. He stepped into the archway, watching down the passage.
"Did you learn anything?" he asked.
Shade pressed in, nosing Wynn's cheek. Still chewing, Wynn wrapped her free arm around the dog's neck. Then she began recounting what little she'd uncovered.
Chane crouched before her, listening intently, and then he glanced out the archway.
"What is it?" she asked.
Shade pulled from Wynn's arms, her pointed ears rising.
Duchess Reine, Chuillyon, and Captain Tristan strode down the passage toward the archway.
Wynn stood up beside Chane. Without even thinking, she took the staff and held it firmly, fearful it might be taken again.
"What have you learned?" the duchess demanded, still a few strides off.
Did she wish to hold this discussion from the passageway?
Chane wrapped his near hand around his sword's sheath, just below the cross guard. He pocketed the ring, freeing his sword hand if needed.
Why had he taken the ring off? If the Stonewalkers, especially Cinder-Shard, could sense the wraith as an undead, would they sense him without the ring's protection?
Chuillyon slowed, almost falling behind the other two. He arrived three steps after the duchess and the captain, eyeing Chane.
"Well?" the duchess asked more sharply.
"A little," Wynn returned in kind. "Master Bulwark interrupted me too soon. I need more—"
"Do not play me!" The duchess took two rapid steps closer.
Wynn forced calm, though one bitter thought escaped. "It's regrettable you were less interested back in Calm Seatt. Several people might still be alive."
"Enough!" Chuillyon said, pulling back his cowl.
The passage's orange light accentuated the lines around his eyes. Wynn couldn't help wondering at his age.
"Please continue," he instructed.
Wynn knew she had to share her meager findings but still hoped for more time with the texts.
"I didn't uncover the wraith's specific goal … yet," she said. "But I believe I have his name … and something of the part he played in the war."
"The war?" the duchess echoed with disdain.
"What name?" Chuillyon demanded.
"The Ancient Enemy had three distinct groups of followers," Wynn began. She briefly recounted the Children, the Eaters of Silence, and lastly the Reverent, a religious caste. She left out what little she knew of a bargain with Beloved, adding only …
"His name was—is—Sau'ilahk, high priest of Cinder-Shard's so-called Nightfaller."
Chuillyon's large eyes lost focus. His gaze dropped, staring at nothing, and then shifted erratically. Wynn wondered what thoughts came so quickly, one overwhelming the next.
"Liar!" Reine accused, pulling Wynn's attention. "I'm sick of your schemes. To suggest that this mage has been around since—"
"Silence!" Chuillyon ordered.
The duchess spun on him. "You cannot possibly believe—"
"I have told you there's no time to cling to disbelief!" He turned back to Wynn. "You learned nothing more … of what it wants … how to deal with it?"
Wynn hesitated at Chuillyon's so quickly accepting her words without a shadow of the duchess's doubt. She'd been dismissed so often, so few believing a grain of what she said, that his acceptance made her more suspicious. She had a very disturbing sense that he was looking for untried tactics, which would only mean …
Had he tried others, sometime before … in facing this monstrous spirit?
And there was one other thing the wraith might be searching for, just like her.
"It may be searching for—"
"The last locations of others among the Children," Chane cut in.
Wynn regained her senses in shock. He never spoke to anyone but her of such matters. When he glanced down, she caught the slightest, almost imperceptible shake of his head. She'd told the duchess and Chuillyon nearly everything pertinent—except Sau'ilahk's bargain for eternal life. She still wasn't certain of her conclusions on that, and it would've only aggravated the duchess even more. So what else was there to hold back? Only one thing …
Chane wished her to keep silent about Bäalâle Seatt.
"Nothing more?" Chuillyon asked again.
"No," Wynn answered. "I had too little time. Translation is painstaking work."
"But it thinks you know something." The captain's sudden words were almost as out of place as Chane's.
"Pardon?" Wynn asked.
"It must believe you know of what it's after," the captain said, calm and cold. "Or it wouldn't have followed you." He turned to Chuillyon. "She offers nothing of use, so we must fall back on Cinder-Shard's plan. Let the Stonewalkers trap it … using the sage as bait."
"I do not think so," Chane hissed.
Wynn had to grab his arm, as both he and the captain reached for their swords.
"Journeyor!" the duchess snapped, and then briefly closed her eyes, as if struggling to regain composure. "In Calm Seatt, you and Captain Rodian seemed to have vanquished this … perpetrator … or in retrospect, at least injured it. How?"
Wynn studied Reine's face, not as lovely as some, but fetching in its clean simplicity surrounded by thick chestnut hair.
"Rodian had nothing to do with it," Wynn answered. "Chane and Shade kept the wraith at bay long enough for Domin il'Sänke to hold it for an instant. In fact, the captain and his men nearly ruined our one chance. But I managed to ignite the staff's crystal anyhow."
She paused, anguished again over so many lost lives.
"Our plan should've worked—I watched the wraith," she said with force, emphasizing what it was, and looked at Chuillyon. "I watched it tear apart in the light. But we merely beat it down enough to save ourselves that night."
Everyone—most especially the captain—listened in silence. He eyed the staff she held.
"The sage should be kept at hand," he said flatly. "Even if the staff proves less than she claims."
Wynn felt Chane reaching around her waist, pulling her back.
His arm tightened, and Shade began snarling. The dog inched through the archway, ears flattening as her hackles rose.
"Too late!" Chane whispered. "It has come!"
Sau'ilahk settled upon the shaft's bottom and peered along the underworld's main passage. Yellowed wisps of vapor drifted down the shaft to coil around him, as if dragged by his descent.
Once his conjured gases had filled the domed chamber, there had been only a brief moment to feed before the last dwarven warrior died. Not one had laid a hand upon the bell rope, but that one taken life was too little. He raised his hands and watched them turn translucent for an instant.
The tip of a steel blade thrust out of his chest.
It flashed aside in a speeding arc as Sau'ilahk whirled about, facing an older female dwarf in black scaled armor. But the lift had not come down.
This Stonewalker had stepped out of the shaft's wall behind him.
She held two long, triangular daggers at ready. Dark blond hair hung around her wide face, which appeared unsurprised that her blade never connected. The chance to feed again made Sau'ilahk lunge.
She did not move until his hand neared her chest.
The instant his fingers penetrated, she struck the shaft's wall with the back of her right hand, still gripping one broad blade.