"Wake up. Her Majesty wishes to speak with you.”
Thealos twisted over on the pallet and rubbed his eyes. He did not recognize the man standing over him with a candlestick, but judging by the night-robe it was not a call for breakfast. Thealos nodded and scooted off the pallet, taking a moment to tug on his boots and splash some water on his face. After drying with a towel, he followed the man into the gloom of the corridor.
“What is this about?”
The man shook his head. “I don’t know. She hasn’t even slept yet herself. I was told to summon the Chancellor first and then you.”
The two Crimson Wolfsmen assigned to keep watch over him followed like shadows.
Together they walked the carpeted labyrinth of Silverborne palace, down several wide staircases and through deserted sitting rooms and keeping chambers. The princess had ordered the move of Thealos’ location after the events of the High Council that morning, establishing him in one of the guest rooms in the upper floors. The Wolfsmen guards were stationed outside the room, but the interior windows overlooked a sheer wall on the front face of the manor. The scenery had changed, but he was still confined unless he found some way to fly.
The servant hastened ahead to Laisha’s personal chambers and rapped on the door. He withdrew, and Thealos entered alone.
Laisha paced the main greeting room, clutching her shawl with tight fingers, her arms folded. Her hair bounced as she whirled and faced him. Fury burned in her eyes.
Abtalion sat in a comfortable chair, poring over a huge leather-bound book with glimmering brass studs, shaking his head.
Thealos slowed and stopped, feeling the tide of tension in the room. “Why do I get the feeling that I’m in trouble again?”
Abtalion’s brow was wrinkled. He looked stunned. “I can’t believe what I’ve just read.”
“Believe it, Abtalion,” Laisha said, her voice close to a growl. She gave Thealos an icy stare. “I don’t like little deceptions. I loathe them. If you knew what was going to be in the records, you should have said something prior to the meeting of the High Council. I am very wroth with you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Laisha,” he said with a swallow.
“Don’t be smug,” she said, her eyes flaring. They looked a little bloodshot. “I’ve been up every night since you came here going tediously through the records. Tonight I found the reference you told me about. And the reference you didn’t tell me about.”
Thealos took a few steps nearer to her. “I don’t understand. I told you about the Silverkin. What other reference are you…?”
Abtalion leaned forward. “Where is the Sleepwalker that brought you to Avisahn?”
“I don’t know. Chancellor, please. I’m in the dark here. What in Vannier’s name has you both so worried?”
The chancellor cocked his head towards Laisha. “I don’t like saying this, Laisha, but he seems completely ignorant to me. Perhaps the Sleepwalker didn’t tell him.”
“I find it strange that I’m more cynical than you now,” Laisha said. She walked closer to Thealos, eyeing him with severe scrutiny. “The record was very detailed. The threat of the Empire of Sol-don-Orai had troubled Avisahn for a long time. The Forbidden magic they used poisoned the security of the Shae. In their great fear, they requested assistance from the Mages of Safehome. But there is always a price. It cannot be avoided. My father had to submit to a rite of magic called a Foretelling.”
Thealos nodded. “Yes, I know about them. I had one myself while I was in the Shoreland.”
“And what did yours say?” The way she asked it sent a shiver through Thealos.
“It was a vision of sorts. The magic showed me the past—what our valley looked like before the humans came. It showed me the fall of the Empire. It also showed me that if I claimed the Silverkin and used it at that moment…that I would die and it would be taken by a Sorian.” He licked his lips. “I chose to walk away instead of let that happen.”
“That is all the Foretelling showed you?” Her voice was riddled with doubts.
“I would not lie to you, Laisha.”
“Barters are not known for their honesty.”
Abtalion stood and started pacing. “Be patient, Laisha.”
“What do we do, Abtalion? The Sunedrion meets tomorrow.” Laisha’s voice was plaintive, almost desperate.
The chancellor rubbed his eyes. “Patience, my dear. I am convinced that the Sleepwalker knew what was in this record. If those erring fools at their Safehome keep records as well, then they would have a duplicate of the Foretelling. But…I am not convinced that Thealos knows. Look at him, he’s completely bewildered.”
Laisha’s shoulders sagged. “I wish I didn’t know now. This was not the evidence I needed.”
“What have I done or not done?” Thealos asked, daring to touch her shoulder.