Forestallment, he has discovered scroll calculations to that effect. Perhaps that’s how the Heretics granted the skill to Xanthus. I know someone who might be able to shed some light on the subject. But it’s been a long time-I’m not sure I’ll be granted an audience.”
“Is learning aboutK’Shari worth our time and trouble tonight?” Tyranny asked. “We sail tomorrow!”
“I understand your concern,” Wigg answered. “But we need to learn all we can about Xanthus, and any weaknesses he might have. I believe we haven’t seen the last of him. And I have another reason for making this visit.” The wizard’s face grew wistful.
“The truth is that I need to offer my belated condolences to someone,” he said. “Since Wulfgar’s defeat, I have been negligent in that responsibility. And by coming with me, you will learn about another facet of Eutracian history. By previous agreement, the late Directorate swore never to speak of it. I am without question violating that promise. But the Directorate is no more, and I have resolved to do this thing.” His mind made up, the First Wizard stubbornly gazed out the window again.
The three women looked at one another with confusion. Shailiha was about to ask Wigg another question when Abbey shook her head. For the next quarter hour they rode in silence. As Scars finally brought the coach to a stop, Shailiha looked out the window.
The peasant-class neighborhood was shabby and forlorn. Street light was in short supply. The ramshackle houses lining either street side seemed to drunkenly lean up against one another for support, giving the princess the distinct impression that if one collapsed, the others would fall like dominoes. Whores seductively prowled the corners, while dark male figures lingered in the shadows. She couldn’t imagine an acquaintance of Wigg’s living here. The First Wizard quickly exited the coach and shut the door, purposely leaving the women behind.
Shailiha scowled. “I thought you said you were taking us with you!” she protested.
Pulling his robe closer, Wigg looked up and down the street. “If I am allowed entrance, I’ll request that you three be admitted with me,” he said. “Scars will stay with the coach. If you see me signal, you may come. Should anyone approach you, order Scars to charge the carriage up the-”
Suddenly Wigg stopped. After looking at the three perturbed women then up at the glowering Scars, he shook his head.
“On second thought, I’m more afraid for anyone trying to give you trouble than I am for you four!” he said. “Just wait here!” Turning away, he strode toward the house.
Shailiha peered at the ramshackle structure. It seemed much like the others, save for a wooden sign hanging perpendicular to the street. Craning her neck, she was surprised to see that the sign carried no words. One side bore the carved likeness of a snake; its other side carried a sword.
Wigg walked up the steps. Still hoping that he was doing the right thing, he knocked on the door. The door soon creaked opened to show a young man dressed in a dark robe. Golden light streamed from the house’s interior to cast Wigg’s elongated shadow onto the street.
“May I help you?” the fellow asked.
“I humbly request to see your master,” Wigg said. Knowing better than to say more, he remained still.
“Why?” the man asked.
“I am an old friend,” Wigg said. “I admit that my visit is unexpected. But if you tell him that Wigg is here, I believe he will see me. I have brought three friends who also seek admittance. Our visit carries some importance.”
“It’s late,” the man said. “He sees no one at this hour.”
From their places inside the carriage, the women could see that Wigg was having difficulty getting inside. It wasn’t like the First Wizard to take “no” for an answer, Shailiha realized. If this was that important to him then why didn’t he use the craft?
Then she watched Wigg do something odd with his robe-something she didn’t understand. As he did, the craft’s azure glow appeared. The young man’s eyes quickly became as large as hen’s eggs. Wigg smiled politely.
“Now then,” he asked, “may we come in?”
“Uh, er-yes, yes of course,” the fellow answered. In his hurry to open the door wider, he nearly tripped over his robe.
Turning toward the carriage, Wigg waved the women forward. Once they were atop the steps, Wigg snatched the cigarillo from Tyranny’s mouth and threw it into the street. The privateer scowled.
The man beckoned them inside. The house’s interior wasn’t what the ladies had expected. The foyer was small, but well lit and immaculately clean. The walls were constructed of wooden panes. Covered with paper, the uniform panes made it difficult to identify the doorways.
The man bowed to Wigg. “Please wait here,” he said.
After Wigg returned the bow, the man slid open one of the well-disguised doors, then disappeared, smoothly closing it after him.
Tyranny looked around. “What is this place?” she asked. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Nor are you likely to again,” Wigg answered softly. “It’s important that no one speak unless first addressed. I’m not sure about what kind of reception we might get, so do as I say. And above all, take no provocative action. Despite the fact that I command the craft, doing so will likely get you killed.”
Shailiha shot a questioning glance at Tyranny and Abbey. The privateer scowled again; Abbey simply shrugged her shoulders.
The paper-paned door silently slid open and the same young man stepped into the foyer. “The master will see you,” he said simply. “Follow me.”
Everyone stepped through the door to see a long hallway stretching before them. Like the foyer, its walls were made of paper panes. On reaching the hallway’s end, the man stopped. He bowed to Wigg.
“He awaits you,” he said.
Wigg bowed in return. “Thank you,” he answered. His job done, the man walked away.
Wigg looked closely at the curious women. “Remember what I told you!” he whispered. “And if you are asked to speak, keep your voices quiet, and your tones respectful.”
Sliding open the door, Wigg led them inside. The room was large. The floor was covered with a straw mat, and the four walls were constructed like those in the hallway. Exotic-looking weapons hung neatly on the walls. Oil lamp sconces provided soft, even light.
In the floor’s center, an elderly man sat on his knees. His eyes were closed, and his shaved head reflected the light. He wore a heavy white upper garment that crisscrossed his chest. A black, skirted affair, tied at the top with a narrow cloth belt, covered his hips and legs. His strong-looking hands lay folded in his lap. A dark wooden tray holding a porcelain tea set sat on the floor before him.
Wigg immediately sat on his knees before the stone-still man. Looking up at the women, the First Wizard indicated that they should also sit. They quickly complied to form a line on Wigg’s left. While the four visitors regarded their host, the room fell quiet.
As time passed, the accompanying silence became deafening. Wondering how long this might go on, Shailiha cast a curious glance at Tyranny. The privateer questioningly raised her eyebrows.
Finally the man opened his eyes. His gaze was sharp and penetrating. He looked straight at Wigg, then he bowed. Wigg returned the compliment. After looking at each woman, the man bowed to them in turn, then returned his riveting gaze to the First Wizard.
“Wigg,” he said softly. “It has been a long time. Because of the Directorate’s agreement, I believed we would never see one another again. Yet for some reason you have chosen to violate that accord. In truth, I cannot say that I am sorry. Why have you come, my old friend?”
“Please forgive the intrusion, Aeolus,” Wigg said. “I come bearing news-news that only I could bring. For as I’m sure you know, the Directorate is no more.”
Choosing not to respond, the man named Aeolus sat stock-still before them.
“Satine is dead,” Wigg said gently. “I learned from her tattoos that she was one of your students.”
For the briefest moment a hint of sorrow crossed Aeolus’ eyes. “Did she die a warrior’s death?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I see,” Aeolus said. “Who did the deed? Few walk the earth who could have bested her.”
“Prince Tristan,” Wigg answered. “She had him dead to rights, but she hesitated just before delivering the
