The Last Goddess
Page 7
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Tiel Aranis waited until the two visitors had left the house, then a full five minutes more, before leaping up to his bookshelf and pulling free the volume he had been avoiding staring at the entire time they had been here. He didn’t really need to read it; he had long ago memorized every page and every inscription, but right now he felt like he had to look upon it again just to be absolutely certain.
And there it was, staring back at him for probably the thousandth time. Exactly the same as it had been on the necklace.
“Edeh protect us,” he whispered.
Tiel dashed around the corner to his private study in the back. He walked up to the sending stone and gently tapped it. The blue crystal floated out of the disk that normally held it, and Tiel quickly traced Master Bale’s rune into the air before it. The stone hummed softly as light continued to ripple off its surface.
He paced about the room as he waited for a response. Of all the things that could have happened today—of all the things that could have happened this lifetime—he still couldn’t believe this had fallen in his lap. He forced himself to take a deep breath and calm down. This could have easily been a farce. He could have misread something or leapt to a false conclusion. He hadn’t actually seen her yet, so there was no reason to—
The sending stone abruptly changed its pitch, and the translucent image of an elderly man formed around it.
“Tiel?” the ghostly visage of Master Bale asked.
“Master, thank the Goddess! I have important news.”
“What is it?”
“Visitors came by with a few Septurian relics. They wished me to identify their authenticity.” He swallowed heavily. “One of them bore Her symbol.”
The visage frowned. “What? I assume it was a fake.”
“The relics were genuine; the symbol was fake,” Tiel explained. “It had obviously been cobbled together by amateurs, but they knew it. They were testing me.”
“For what purpose?”
“I’m not sure. I think they wanted to see what I knew. I’m afraid I’m not much of a liar—they had to realize I recognized it.”
Bale shook his head. “You’re reading too much into this, Tiel. It must just be a prank.”
“I really don’t think so, master,” he insisted. “I think they might have actually found Her.”
The old man sighed. For a moment it looked like he might start to scold his apprentice, but then something odd abruptly flickered across his brow. “What were their names?”
“One was Vorani, the Sunoan minstrel I had been telling you about before you left. I couldn’t believe it.”
“Minstrel?” Bale snorted. “Definitely a prank of some sort.”
“The man with her was named Rook.”
Despite the translucent and imperfect projection from the sending stone, it was easy to see the color drain from the other man’s face. Did he know this merchant somehow? Was he a notorious criminal? A murderer? A Balorite?
“Master?” Tiel asked into the silence.
“You need to be careful,” Bale warned, his voice suddenly hoarse. “But I think you may be right.”
“So what do you want me to do?”
“You need to find Her. And then you need to bring Her to Jehalai.”
Tiel licked at his lips and found them dry. The Jehalai Monastery was nearly two hundred miles south across the Ebaran border. It would take him the better part of a week to make that trip alone, and it would mean dealing with the border guard at the Wall…
But those were secondary concerns. The more pressing question was how in Edeh’s name he was going to find the Kirshal in the first place.
“I would appreciate any suggestions,” he whispered.
“Rook is a clever man,” Bale told him. “You’ll need to keep your wits about you. Though it sounds like he wanted you to know about Her.”
“They were looking for you originally, master.”
The visage nodded. “Before you locate the Kirshal, I need you to go to the Illyrian temple and try to get a hold of the Osahn Scriptures.”
Tiel blinked at the apparent non-sequitur. “Master?”
“If they don’t have it, the Edehan priests should. You’ll need to be subtle—no one else can know what you’re after.”
“Master, I don’t under—”
“You don’t need to understand, Tiel,” Bale interrupted, his voice surprisingly cold. “I just need you to obey. Get the scriptures and make sure no one else knows you have them. Whatever else happens, it is vital that you bring Her to me at Jehalai. Is that understood?”
“Of course, Master,” Tiel said, licking at his lips. “I won’t fail you.”
“I know,” the older man said softly. “Keep me apprised. I will begin preparations for your arrival.”
Tiel nodded, doing his best to fight down the knot twisting in the pit of his stomach. “So you believe this is genuine, master? You think he has really found the Kirshal?”
Bale’s face hardened. “I’m certain of it. Now go. Her life may depend upon you.”
“Yes, Master,” Tiel whispered. The visage faded, and the sending stone slowly floated back down into its holder. He stared at the device for a long time before he finally found the strength to move his limbs again.
“Goddess shield me from the darkness and grant me the strength to stand against our enemies,” he prayed softly. “I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”