The door opened. Blinded by the sudden light, Madelyn winced and held a hand over her eyes. She saw a small figure, too small to be an assassin.
“Oh,” she heard a girl say. “I didn’t know…”
Madelyn lowered her hand as the girl thankfully closed the door halfway. In the dimmer light, she could see. The girl stood with her hands behind her back. She wore a plain white dress that hung all the way down to her ankles. Her unadorned hair spilled down either side of her face, a beautiful red. Madelyn’s best guess put her no older than ten.
“I’ve been awake,” Madelyn said. She realized she still clutched the dagger and lowered it to the bed. That seemed to calm the girl a little.
“I was sent to get, um…”
She blushed and pointed at the chamber pot in the corner. Madelyn rolled her eyes.
“Just leave it,” she said. “Come back for it in the morning.”
The girl paused, clearly deciding which orders to follow. Madelyn stared at her face, seeing an odd familiarity. When the girl turned to leave, Madelyn spoke out a name.
“Eschaton?”
The girl jolted as if shocked.
“How do you know my name?” she asked, turning back around.
“Just your last, girl. You’re yet to give me your first.”
The girl blushed.
“Delysia Eschaton. It is a pleasure to meet you, milady.”
She gave a curtsey that was skillful as it was absurd in the plain long dress.
“I knew your father,” Madelyn said. “Many years ago, when he was still a lord. You have his hair and eyes. We weren’t close, but we talked on occasion. Then he let his faith override his senses and vanished into these cloistered halls.”
Delysia didn’t appear to know how to react.
“I hope what memories you have of my father are pleasant ones,” she said at last. “Though it pains me to talk of them. I should go.”
“Stay,” Madelyn said, an idea growing in her head. “I’ve been locked alone in here for many hours, and it’d be good to have someone to talk with.”
Delysia opened her mouth as if to protest, then decided otherwise. Madelyn patted the space beside her on the bed, and Delysia reluctantly took a seat there.
“Do they require you to have such plain hair?” Madelyn said as she brushed a hand through the fiery red.
“No. I haven’t had time. I’m so new here.”
Delysia tensed a little when Madelyn began braiding it, then slowly relaxed. Having spent a lifetime in courts, dinners, and extravagant parties, Madelyn had long ago learned how to read and manipulate others. Delysia was adrift, alone, and scared. Most importantly, she seemed to be craving a mother figure by how quickly she’d relaxed after the braiding started.
Madelyn frantically racked her brain. Delius Eschaton-he’d been married, but what had happened to his wife?
“I’m so sorry about your mother,” she said, deciding to keep it vague. No child as young as Delysia would be willing to discuss such a matter in depth. What was more important was the comfort Madelyn eased into her voice, the tender honesty and empathy.
“Daddy…he helped us through,” Delysia said. Her whole body seemed to be shivering. “I miss him. I miss my brother. I miss my mom and my Grany. I don’t want to be here, I want to be home, I want to be…”
She broke down in tears. Even with her manipulation, Madelyn was surprised by its speed. The girl must have been on edge the whole day, just waiting for something to set her off. Knowing her timing must be perfect, Madelyn let Delysia cry just long enough before wrapping her shoulders in a hug.
“There now,” she said. “Cry if you must. I know how you feel. I miss my husband. I worry for him, too. For all he knows I’m hanging upside down from chains in one of Thren’s hideouts. If only I could feel him in my arms again.”
“I heard others talking,” Delysia said. “They said they’d send someone so he’d know.”
“But are you sure?” she asked, letting her face harden just a little. After a moment, Delysia shook her head.
“No,” she said. “I guess I’m not.”
Madelyn let the silence return. She’d finished two thin braids, so she began tying them together, high up near the top of Delysia’s head. Lacking material, she tore a bit of her own dress and used it to tie the braids firm.
“Your brother is all you have left,” she said, injecting a combination of curiosity and worry into her voice. “Do you know where he is now?”
“He’s apprenticed to some wizard,” Delysia said. “I could never pronounce his name right. Malderad? Maldrad? Something like that.”
“Yes, wizards often have funny names,” Madelyn said. “They think it gives them an air of mystery, but mostly it just makes them look like fools.”
Delysia giggled softly.
Madelyn chose that moment to pull back her hands and set them on her lap. The sudden stop made Delysia turn to see what was the matter.
“I could take you to him,” Madelyn said. “Surely you heard among the whispers who I am, Delysia. I am Lady Keenan, and wealthier than the king. It seems cruel to keep you hidden here when your brother is out there alone and in danger. What if he returns to Veldaren? What if the thief guilds send for him too?”
Delysia twisted her fingers together, then grabbed her elbows and shivered as if she were cold. Madelyn paused a moment, then drove the final nail home.
“Delysia, does he even know your father’s dead?”
Her eyes widened. She shook her head.
“Someone should tell him,” Madelyn insisted. “I think it should be you. Come with me.”
Delysia’s eyes widened as if she were waking from a spell.
“I’ll get in trouble,” she said. “Grany put me here, and here’s safe. Who will I stay with, and what if Maldrad doesn’t want me? I can’t.”
This was it. This was the moment. Madelyn stood and crossed her arms, acting every bit the scolding parent.
“You can and you will, Delysia. I must return to my husband. You must return to your brother. Isn’t that what you want? Forget what others expect of you. They don’t decide your life. That isn’t their right. I will ensure everything goes well for you, all for being a friend to me in my dark time. Help me, Delysia. Please. I’m asking you.”
Delysia wilted under the barrage of words. She slowly nodded.
“You promise to take care of me?” she asked.
Madelyn smiled her sweetest smile.
“I promise,” she said.
“Fine. Everyone else is asleep except me. Bertram was to help me with my nightly duties, but he’s so fat he dozed off in his chair. I don’t know if the door’s locked.”
“Only one way to know,” Madelyn said, taking Delysia’s hand. “Lead me there.”
H aern scratched at his mask, wishing he had found something smoother to wear. When finished, he wrapped his cloak tighter about him. Other than his blonde hair, he was a mess of gray lurking in the shadows. The temple was before him on the other side of the street. Haern hid beside a shop set up to take advantage of the temple’s traffic, selling a multitude of sweetcakes and treats that got devoured after every service.
Looking at the temple, Haern wondered how the abyss he was going to get inside. He saw no windows, just rows and rows of columns. The columns themselves were too smooth and wide around for him to scale. The giant front doors were closed. They were unguarded but most likely locked and barred from the inside. The roof was triangular, sharp in the middle but nearly flat at the edges, created by a clever interlocking of additional tiles. Two statues loomed on either side of the short white steps leading up into the temple. The left was of a noble-looking
