fact, it would be best if the cynosure were destroyed entirely, if it does what you say it does.'
'We won't make any friends doing that,' said Ironfoot.
'I didn't come to Elenth to make friends,' said Mauritane, sighing.
By nightfall, Ironfoot was ready. His modifications to the cynosure proceeded more quickly than the first time, and he'd been able to use what he'd learned from the first journey in order to ensure a smoother trip.
The Chthonic priestess had, of course, been furious at the idea. But she also realized that at the moment she needed Mauritane far more than he needed her, and ultimately acquiesced.
'Are you sure you're up for this?' Silverdun asked Faella.
'She loved you, you know,' said Faella, as if this answered her question.
'I know,' said Silverdun. 'I think we owe her this much.'
Faella folded them, not only directly into the chamber of the gods this time, but directly onto the silver disc she'd created to protect Ironfoot and Sela.
It was dark. And silent.
Silverdun flared witchlight, and the room erupted in white light. Ein was gone, his platform empty. The other gods were silent, unmoving.
'Sela!' called Ironfoot.
Ironfoot channeled Motion and they floated throughout the chamber looking, but Sela was gone. The only sign of her they discovered was the silver-coated iron band that she'd always worn. The Accursed Object, she'd called it. Ironfoot plucked it gently from the ground, his hand wrapped in his cloak.
They returned to the temple in Elenth without incident. As soon as they arrived, Silverdun snatched the cynosure off of its pedestal, hurled it to the ground, and smashed it to pieces.
Seelie Army drinking song
aron Glennet's memorial service was a lavish affair, held at a special session of Corpus. His bier was laid before the speaker's podium, adorned with garlands of blue and yellow flowers. Silverdun watched with mostly hidden disgust as lords and guildsmen ascended the podium and delivered long-winded paeans to the man who had attempted to start a war for his own personal profit.
Lord Everess delivered one of the most touching eulogies, praising Glennet's years of service to the Seelie Kingdom, restating his many contributions to Corpus and to his peers, and calling him one of the great heroes of the realm and an exemplar of the Seelie Heart.
Very few in Corpus were fooled by the official explanation for Glennet's demise. Most assumed that he'd ridden into battle in an attempt to end his life in dignity after falling into financial ruin. If any of his coconspirators in the House of Guilds-either his creditors or those with whom he'd invested -suspected the truth, they were wisely keeping it to themselves.
To add to the insult, when Silverdun had arrived in Corpus he'd discovered that Lord Ames had been using his chair as an impromptu liquor cabinet for years. Granted, Silverdun had only sat in it once in his entire life prior to today, but it was the principle of the thing. He made a show of polishing off one of Ames's finer bottles of whiskey during the proceedings.
Well, Ames could have the damn chair. Silverdun would never sit in it again after today.
Afterward, Silverdun met Ironfoot, Paet, and Everess at a cafe on the Promenade. They raised an ironic toast to Baron Glennet and then sat in silence for a while.
'You laid it on rather thick in there,' Silverdun told Everess, after draining his glass.
'Never pass up an opportunity to praise a fallen colleague in open session, boy,' said Everess. 'It's just good politics.'
'I suppose there won't be much resistance to the Office of Shadow now,' said Ironfoot.
'Oh, we still have our enemies,' said Everess. 'But they now know the price of going up against me.'
'Us,' said Silverdun. 'They know the price of going up against us.'
'Just so,' said Everess. 'Just so.'
That evening, in the tangle of brush behind Blackstone House, Paet, Silverdun, and Ironfoot buried Sela's iron band in a small hole near the wall.
