A smile flashed across Drakis’ face. He felt suddenly awkward. With the sword in his right hand and the scabbard on his left side he was left to comfort Mala by putting his left arm around her and trying not to nick her with the blade he still held in his right. “Mala. . I’m here now, it will be all right.”
“I didn’t think I’d find you,” she said, looking up into his face, her eyes large and still watery. “I was so worried. .”
“I’m fine,” Drakis said, pulling away from her. “Have you seen anyone else?”
“Oh, yes!” she smiled. “They’re not far from here. . they’re waiting for us. They’re all out looking for you now, but I found you and we’ll be together again soon.”
Drakis smiled again. “That’s excellent, Mala. If we are going to have any hope of getting through the madness of this wood, we’ll have to stay together. Where are we meeting?”
“It’s not far from here, just down a nearby stream a bit,” she said, taking his hand. “I can show you. Belag says we can rest, replenish, and get our bearings-whatever that means. And. . and. .”
“And what, Mala?”
“Oh, Drakis, I’m so frightened and tired,” Mala said. “Will you please just tell me where we’re going. . and why we’re going there?”
“I’m not sure it will make much sense, Mala,” Drakis replied. “It’s got something to do with a song.”
“Really?” Mala said, puzzled, and then started pulling at his hand. “Then promise you’ll tell me all about it when get there.”
“Get where?”
“It’s not far,” she said without turning her head, “and it’s the most peaceful glade you’ve ever seen.”
Ch’drei Tsi-Auruun, Keeper of the Iblisi, sat in stillness on her newly settled throne, now placed before the fountain at the heart of Togrun Fel. Its beauties were, for the moment, entirely ignored by her; Ch’drei’s only movement was a slight quivering of her hand as she gripped the top of her staff with a pale fist.
Her acolytes, who had carried her heavy throne through every fold gate from the Imperial City to the far reaches of northern Ibania-a seemingly endless succession through increasing carnage-had never complained about its weight or the length of the journey. Her personal guard had made no utterance regarding the open danger to which the Keeper was exposed. Each of them took their orders and performed their duties in unquestioning silence.
Now, her throne situated before the bone-white fountain inside the Togrun Fel-a pretty little dwarven tomb about as far removed from every benefit of civilization as could be found-Keeper Ch’drei alone could afford to be as loud as she liked.
“How is it possible,” Ch’drei barked in a shrill voice that seemed to shake the very stones of the great, crafted cavern around her, “that the Keepers of All Truth. . the sharpest eyes and ears of the Imperial Will. . cannot even find one of their own?”
“My Keeper,” replied Master Indexia Charun from where he half bowed in front of the throne, “we followed the trail to a small fold gate to the west. That led us across the Hyperian Plain. . beyond the Hecariat Pillar. We have eight Quorums searching now. It is only a matter of time before. .”
“I do not care if it takes another hundred Quorums,” Ch’drei yelled, spittle flying from between her long, sharp teeth. “I haven’t traveled over two hundred leagues into the wilderness just to wait for three days in this. . this grave for your report of a stunning lack of news.”
“Keeper Ch’drei,” Charun said, looking away from her as he spoke, “the Assesia who have returned to report tell us that the trail moves in the direction of the Murialis Woodlands. It is entirely possible that Soen and the rest of his Quorum may be dead.”
Ch’drei nearly choked on her laugh. “Dead? Soen?”
“Yes, Keeper Ch’drei.”
“He wouldn’t dare die without asking my permission first!”