though she'd claimed that the ride was only a few hours, they'd taken the opportunity-always with careful eyes on Salia, of course-to acquire some traveling cloaks and coats before leaving the city. It was partly for the sake of their own comfort, but mostly as an excuse, under the guise of 'friendly assistance' while shopping, for Irrial to search their unwilling guest for concealed weapons. More than once, Corvis sensed the priestess's gaze upon him and had looked around to see not merely the anger and the fear that he'd anticipated-even, he had to admit, reveled in-but also a peculiar puzzlement.
He wasn't about to ask her what was wrong, of course. But he did wonder.
As they traversed a minor highway that was festively garbed in fallen leaves of red and gold, Corvis watched Jassion with idly hostile curiosity. The baron fiddled with the ties around his throat, trying to keep the knot of his bandage from getting caught in the folds of his new midnight-hued cloak. He fidgeted, craned his neck-and somehow, even from the rear, Corvis could tell that he frowned.
Perhaps sensing the older man's questioning gaze, Jassion tugged on the reins, dropping back a few paces. 'I'm no great believer in omens,' the nobleman told him, 'but I have to admit, I'm not pleased at that.'
Corvis glanced up and noted, despite their growing distance from Mecepheum, a number of crows circling high above. He thought back to the birds perched atop the roof of the Hall of Meeting, and he, too, frowned thoughtfully.
'Keep on going with the others,' he said suddenly, wheeling his own horse about. 'I'll catch up.'
'What? Where are you-?'
'Probably nowhere. You've just got me paranoid now. I want to make sure nobody's following-that Mavere didn't somehow manage to signal anyone.'
'Paranoid indeed,' Jassion said. 'But probably wise,' he acknowledged, riding on ahead. CORVIS DID INDEED CATCH BACK UP a few moments later and fell into step behind the others.
'Anything?' Jassion called over his shoulder.
'No danger,' Corvis replied, wrapping his own crimson cloak more tightly against the autumn chill. 'As you said, just paranoid.'
Irrial might have detected the odd tenor in his voice, or that he sat somewhat straighter in the saddle than before. But Irrial rode at the front, with Salia between her and the others, and Jassion didn't know his hated ally well enough to notice. He simply nodded, and the four rode on.
Above, the crows continued to circle for a few moments more, and then, one by one, they departed for more worthwhile surroundings. MECEPHEUM, AS BOTH IMPHALLION'S CAPITAL and its richest community, was one of those cities that doesn't seem to know when to stop. Like a noblewoman's skirts, neighborhoods and estates spread from the main walls.
At the edge of what could even pretend to be called Mecepheum stood a large estate. A squat stone manor occupied the property's center, surrounded on three sides by gardens and on the rear by a hedge maze that ran across several gentle knolls. A marble wall separated the grounds from the outside, but it wasn't much of an impediment-the iron gate in its center was unbarred, and the wall itself a mere three feet high. Obviously, it had been built not as security, but just an ornate and expensive means of declaring My territory starts here.
Save for the lack of guards, footmen, or even a bell-pull at the gate, there was nothing to differentiate it from any of the other rich, aristocratic estates that sprouted sporadically-gilded mushrooms, as Corvis couldn't help but think of them-throughout these long swathes of pseudo-Mecepheum.
'I have to admit,' Irrial said as they halted just outside the gate, 'it's not what I was expecting.'
'Nor I,' Jassion said.
'No?' Salia scoffed. 'You imagined a bleak tower of black stones? An imposing castle of impossible spires? Or maybe a dank cave somewhere?'
'Well, he is a powerful wizard…,' Irrial protested mildly.
'And you've been reading too many melodramas. Nenavar earns his wealth by hiring his services out to any who can afford them-a rare and select few, to be sure-and enjoys that wealth as any man would. What better place for him to live than here?'
'If we're through critiquing the aesthetics of the nice diabolist,' Corvis asked irritably, 'do you suppose we might get a move on? I'd like to take steps to prevent it before Khanda finally shows up and tries to rip my spine out through my arsehole.'
'I don't actually read many melodramas,' Irrial informed them as they moved toward the gate. 'I prefer to watch them performed on stage. I find it a lot more-'
'Irrial?'
'Yes, Corvis?'
'Let it go.'
Jassion pushed the gate wide and led them onto the property. Corvis, who'd half expected it to swing ponderously open on its own, was peculiarly grateful that the wizard hadn't enchanted it to do so. The path led, straight as a lance, through nicely trimmed grasses and well-maintained gardens of tulips and potato blossoms to the manor door. At no point were they approached or harassed, nor did they see any sign of movement, from either the property or the house itself, for which the breeze could not account.
'Are you certain he's here?' Jassion demanded.
Salia shrugged. 'How would I know?'
The door, like the manor itself, was thick, solidly built, but relatively unadorned. It boasted a brass knocker in the form of a simple ring, a smaller knob-also brass-and nothing more.
Corvis shrugged and pounded on the heavy wood. They heard the echoes reverberating through the chamber beyond, and a large chamber it must have been, but even after many minutes and several more knocks, they received no response. He clasped the knob, more out of habit than any real hope the door was unlocked, and sure enough it declined to cooperate.
'I refuse to be killed,' he told the others without bothering to look back at them, 'because one man happened to be out for tea when we showed up on his stoop.' He muttered a few words, casting a spell to make obvious any wards or curses Nenavar might have placed upon his door. He spotted only a handful, far fewer than he anticipated, and knew that none could withstand the touch of the Kholben Shiar. Directing his companions to stand back, he hefted Sunder and brought it down beside the knob.
Wood, metal, and magic splintered, the door swung ajar, and beyond it Corvis and the others saw…
… Nothing. The house was empty. One great hollow chamber, lacking even interior walls.
'I love what he's done with the place,' Corvis said blandly.
'I don't understand,' Salia muttered, flinching from Jassion's angry glare. 'I've sent multiple couriers! This is where he told us to find him, and this is where they've come.'
And Corvis abruptly understood. 'But he wanted them to find him. Us, perhaps less so.' He stepped from the door to stare up at the nearest window, idly spinning Sunder at his side. 'It's a neat trick, Nenavar!' he shouted, his words carrying to all corners of the property on a voice that had once bellowed across battlefields. 'I don't know if it's a teleportation you've cast on the doorway, or an illusion, or even a bubble of an alternative realm inside the house. And I don't care. My companions and I have nowhere to be, so I'm more than happy to take the time to chop through your damn walls! Maybe that'll take us around your little spell, or maybe I'll just have to keep it up until the house collapses. Either way I promise that it'll end with you and me both in a bad mood.
'Or you can assume that, just maybe, Mavere had a good reason for bringing us here, and you can deign to talk to us.'
Silence. Until, from behind him, Irrial called out, 'Khanda's found a way to free himself from your spells!'
Corvis stared at her. She just shrugged.
The door slammed shut of its own accord, then opened once more. This time it revealed a cozy foyer, replete with burning incense and a cloak rack.
'Come in.' The voice was thin, old and on the edge of quavering. It also came from everywhere at once. 'Make yourselves at home. But Rebaine, I know what you're capable of, and I know what the Kholben Shiar are capable of, and I assure you I have more than enough power to deal with you both.'
'Of course you do.' Corvis watched his companions hang their cloaks upon the pegs, ignored their questioning glances when he refrained from doing the same. When they were ready, he led the way into the hall beyond.
