“You invited me,” I said at last. “Why don’t you talk first?”
“People usually show me more respect than this,” Wysaro said.
“People normally tell me what they want before calling me out into the night.”
“Those people aren’t the heads of mighty clans.”
“You don’t know who I mixed with before I came to this place,” I said, trying hard not to let him intimidate me.
“Hm.” Wysaro stroked his beard. “Perhaps we’re getting off on the wrong foot. Why don’t you tell me about your time since you came to ‘this place.’ How are you finding the Radiant Dragon Guild?”
“I like it. I’m learning a lot.” I kept the answer vague. I didn’t know why Jiven had placed particular emphasis on ‘this place,’ but it sounded like he knew I’d come from afar. I’d told everyone except my close friends that I’d been raised by Tolin in the Unwashed Temple, and few had objected to the story because almost no one visited the caretaker or his residence.
“You’ve met my son, Hamon?” Jiven asked.
“I can’t think who else would have told you about me.”
“I have many people inside the guild, Ethan Murphy. Some of them might surprise you.”
“Imagine me suitably impressed, if that’s what you’re after.”
“Who said I was after anything?”
“You did.” I held up the note.
Lord Wysaro narrowed his eyes. His gaze seemed to flit around me as it took in my face, my hands, my torso, even the wall behind me.
“You’re a smart man, Ethan Murphy. Does that help you to Augment?”
“It helps with everything.”
“And how are your powers progressing?”
I reached out a hand toward the altar, where the burning of offerings had left a pile of ashes in a small, clay dish. But I stopped myself before I even touched them. Tempting as it was to show off, I stood no chance of intimidating this man. He had been an Augmenter for decades, had fostered a small army of Augmenters around him. All I would achieve would be to show him the limits of my power.
“I’ve learned some useful tricks,” I said, sitting back. “But there’s always more to learn.”
“Indeed, there is. And some skills are better learned outside the confines of a guild. How would you like to come and work for me?”
I blinked and almost let my mouth hang open. If I’d made a hundred guesses at where this conversation was going, that never would have made the list.
“You want me as a guard?” I asked.
“Nothing so lowly,” he replied. “Talent is rewarded with status in Clan Wysaro.”
“I already have a clan.”
Wysaro snorted. “Dress up however you like, but you’re no more a Pashat than I am. And that wrinkled old hermit Tolin isn’t the only one who can offer adoption.”
Wysaro’s whole attitude irked me. His disregard for my mentor. His attempts to put me in my place. The way he kept glancing past my shoulder, as if there was something more interesting there.
And maybe there was. The hilt of the Sundered Heart Sword was currently visible from over my shoulder, and I figured he was glancing at the weapon. If Wysaro knew about its true power, then maybe that was his real aim here. Had I been invited because of who I was or for what I carried?
I wanted to storm out, but I was a professional, and I had long ago learned to hide my feelings for the sake of a mission. Whatever Wysaro’s real aim was, I would gain nothing by flat out rejecting him, and a direct challenge was unlikely to reveal the truth. I needed time to think, to gather information, and to talk with people who understood this world better. In short, I needed to get back to my friends.
“I’ll think about your offer,” I said as I rose to my feet. “And about what it would take to make joining the Wysaro worth my while.”
I hoped that last detail might convince him that I really was interested, not just fobbing him off.
“Very well.” Lord Wysaro gave the curtest of nods, as befitted a clan leader facing a lowly initiate. “I look forward to our next encounter.”
“As do I,” I said, bowing deeply. “My lord.”
As I walked out of the shrine, I tensed every muscle in my body, half expecting Wysaro to set his guards on me and steal the sword. But they stood perfectly still as they let me out into a bitterly cold, starlit night.
Without cloud cover, the temperature was plummeting. I decided to run back to the guild, as much for the warmth of the exercise as to reduce the risk of somebody noticing my absence.
The road wasn’t as steep as the mountain trails Master Rutmonlir made us race along, and the run was invigorating rather than exhausting. I was soon slipping back in through the side gate of the guild, across the training yards, and up the back stairs to my dormitory.
When I got there, the room was empty. There had been no one in the training yards, which wasn’t unusual for that time of night, but the quiet in the corridors had been more surprising. Where had everyone gone?
I stowed my sword away before I made my way across the guild, room by room. There was no one in any of the dormitories, nor in the dojo. The courtyard was empty, but I saw a servant hurrying up the steps into the main hall, so I followed her inside.
The hall was packed. Every member of the guild seemed to be there. The masters stood around the edges of the room, with the most senior on stools on the dais. A handful of disciples were scattered behind the initiates, who filled the rest of the space, those at the back craning their necks to see over each other’s heads.
At the front, Master Xilarion stood, hands clasped behind his back as he addressed the crowd. “I have gathered you all here for an important announcement. Tomorrow will be the final test for the current round of
