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On her right, Premin Jacque of conamology had his elbows on the table. With both hands laced together, his forehead rested against them, hiding his face. The sleeves of his teal robe had slipped down, exposing muscular forearms.
Last, at the table's right end, sat Premin Hawes of metaology. She glanced sidelong at the visitors, and the cowl of midnight blue revealed hazel eyes almost the «yesat color of the wall's stones. Her stern glaze slipped coldly from Wy
And Wy
Domin High-Tower stood near a window behind the council.
He wasn't looking outside or at the council or even at her. His head hung forward, beard flattened against his broad chest. He seemed almost cowed, or something well beyond weary.
Had he also been called before the council?
As much as il'Sänke and High-Tower didn't care for each other, their paranoia over involving outsiders had led to several ill-conceived ploys. Miriam and Dâgmund had lost their lives, and Nikolas was a mental invalid.
Wy
The council could do no worse to her than what she'd already suffered since her return home.
Premin Jacque raised his head. His blockish features filled with sadness as Premin Sykion began.
"We recognize your good intentions in what happened last night, but soundness of judgment has been… lacking in conduct. Our actions should not be driven by fear, or our security is sacrificed in such ill-conceived attempts to protect it."
High-Tower turned fully away toward the window.
"However," Sykion added, "as the cause of our great losses has finally been put to rest, we can move forward."
High Premin Sykion settled back. She carefully folded her hands in her lap, out of sight.
"Domin il'Sänke, you have been invaluable in our efforts. Our sibling guild branch in the Suman Empire should take pride in you. Having fulfilled our need, your stay should not be further drawn out. You are free to return home to family and friends."
Wy
"Journeyor Hygeorht…"
Wy
"Considering your exploits in the Farlands," the premin finally continued, "you have accomplished much more than most journeyors in such a short time. But there is still concern over your well-being."
Wy
"We wish you to take Domin Tärpod «ke theious as your new master," Sykion said.
Wy
"As he is a close friend of your former master, Domin Tilswith," Sykion continued, "Tärpodious's tutelage would further shorten your steps to master's status in the guild. Your experience in far cultures, with new languages and knowledge, would be a great—"
"No!" Wy
Premin Sykion's eyes fixed upon her as High-Tower spun about. The worry on his face confirmed Wy
"What are you doing?" il'Sänke whispered. "Do not give them a reason to be rid of you!"
He didn't see what this was really about, but Wy
They offered her a new journeyor's assignment, to continue her training. To sweeten it further, they dangled a carrot before her, hinting that she might achieve master at a younger age than any before her. But there was a price.
Stuck in the archives, cataloguing and referencing with old Tärpodious, she would be well out of sight, with no need to ever leave the guild grounds. They could keep her under watchful eyes, controlling everything she did… everything she had access to.
"I'm interested only in the texts," Wy
Premin Jacque exhaled heavily, leaning his head on his hands once again.
Premin Hawes's hazel eyes narrowed as if in warning. "This will never work," she snapped.
"The debate is over," Adlam responded. "Leave it alone!"
Hawes leaned on the table, glaring along its length at Adlam. Sykion raised a hand before either spit another barb, but her gaze had never left Wy
"The texts are not your concern," Sykion answered. "Captain Rodian has assured us—again—that no charges will be brought against you for your interference. But if seeking suit to regain the texts is still your intention, it will do you no good, considering—"
"That the texts are not even here?" Wy
Sadness washed from High-Tower's face. His dark pellet eyes fixed on her. He was always so stern and self-possessed, but Wy
"Your lack of good judgment is reason enough," Sykion said.
That wasn't an answer to her question. And along with High-Tower's reaction, it confirmed Wy
Wherever the texts were, they were being brought in and out, so no offered journeyor's «assignment» would ever get her near them.
She was now an u
Magiere had been born in the worst of ways to be the leader of forces for the Ancient Enemy. Leesil, raised and trained by his own mother, was to be the instrument of dissidents among the Anmaglâhk and strike at that Enemy they knew almost nothing about. And Chap…
Having chosen to be born into flesh to guard them both, he had no idea how much his own kin, the Fay, had kept hidden from him. Beneath lies and omissions, all the Fay had truly expected from him was to keep Magiere and Leesil from taking any action at all.
And now it seemed the council wished the same for Wy
All this caution, this driven paranoia to do nothing for fear of doing the wrong thing—what did it amount to?
Wy
"Give me the key to your study," she said to il'Sänke. "I need to get my things left there if I'm to proceed."
The domin looked at her with doubt and then appeared relieved that she no longer fought the council's plans for her. He handed over the key, and Wy
She pulled out her cold lamp crystal—the emblem of journeyors and higher ranks among the guild.
Wy
Sykion's eyes widened at the implication even before Wy
"I resign," she whispered.
It was still loud enough to hear in the chamber as the crystal's tumble finally came to a halt.
Wy
Shade watched her, occasionally following her around the small room or sniffing in the trunk.
Wy
This was too much like facing a death, and yet still left walking the world. She tried to keep her mind on one thing—Dhredze Seatt, the "Sea-foam Stronghold" of the dwarves across Beranlômr Bay.