63
As Kylar and Durzo approached the Chantry, the Alabaster Seraph gleamed, presiding over a city freshly dusted with snow that made it match its mistress. The waters of LakeVestacchi glowed light blue tinged with red in the early morning light.
They stabled their horses on the outskirts of town, and after speaking with an old woman who ran the tavern and seemed to recognize him, Durzo took a key from her. Eschewing the punts, Durzo led them across narrow, crowded sidewalks. Kylar gaped at the enormous Seraph and at the crisscrossing currents that made the city’s streets, bumping into strangers. A few cursed him and shoved back, but stopped as soon as he leveled his cool blue eyes on them. Beneath his awe at the Seraph, though, was a growing dread. He could feel Vi. He adjusted his sword belt and blew out a breath uneasily. She was in there, up two or three stories. Her feelings were a mirror of his own.
Durzo took them into a small, dusty house with a thick door. Kylar noticed that his eyes and his master’s checked all the same things: doors, narrow windows, rugs, plank flooring. Durzo was satisfied. He opened the bureau and lifted out the bottom drawer to reveal a false bottom. Kylar pooled the ka’kari in his hand. I’m really going to miss your wit.
~If I wanted sarcasm . . . ~ it began, but Kylar willed it to cover Retribution. ~Wait!~ He dropped the sword into the space beneath the bureau. Both Retribution and the ka’kari were magical. He couldn’t bring either to the Chantry. They would stay here until Kylar left.
Durzo replaced the bottom drawer, locked it into place, and took a few minutes to place a trap on it. In the meantime, Kylar worked on his disguise as Durzo had taught him. After he’d finished with the trap, Durzo studied him. “Not too bad,” he admitted.
Minutes later, their little punt had scarcely docked next to a fishing boat flying two black flags when a familiar face turned up.
“Sister?” Kylar asked.
“There’s a king in Cenaria!” Sister Ariel said, making it an accusation.
“Is this a password?” Durzo asked.
“Glory to his name,” Kylar said. “Can we get out of the boat?”
“In Torras Bend, I called you arrogant. You said we’d discuss your arrogance when there was a king in Cenaria,” Sister Ariel said, unamused. “Was that your doing?”
“Me? Who am I to meddle with kings?” Kylar said, smirking a yes.
“What’s your name, young man? I seem to have forgotten. And who’s this?”
“Kyle Blackson. Nice to make your acquaintance again, Sister Airy Belle, right?” She gave him a glare that could curdle milk. “This is Dannic Bilsin, Uly’s dad.”
“Seven hells,” Sister Ariel said.
“Nice to meet you, too,” Durzo said.
Kylar got out of the boat and Sister Ariel stepped close to him and sniffed. She stepped back, confusion rising sharply in her eyes. She looked around the docks to see how far away the other Sisters were. “What have you done to yourself?”
With Durzo’s instruction, Kylar now appeared to be a man with a vast and untapped Talent. Otherwise, he smelled and looked like any man. As long as he didn’t use the ka’kari or his Talent, his guise would remain in place.
“I’m here to see my wife,” Kylar said.
“Vi’s studying, but I can have her brought to you after lunch.”
“I meant the wife I chose, not the one you did.” Kylar smiled thinly. Sister Ariel’s face drained.
“You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?” she said.
“Maybe I’m not the only one.”
“And you?” Sister Ariel asked Durzo. “Do you have demands that will cost lives, too?”
“I’m just here to see my daughter,” Durzo said.