“I don’t have time for that, Tomaz—I need to see themnow!”
A few nearby Kindred turned to look at the two of them, wondering what was happening. Leah excused herself and began to approach.
“Why?” Tomaz asked.
“Tomaz,” he said, “you need to trust me.”
For an eternal moment, the Prince waited for the ex-Blade Master to respond. The big man was quite clearly thrown off balance. Trust and loyalty warred with suspicion, and the Prince could see that the giant needed one more nudge. Banking on the big man’s over-reliance on loyalty to make the decision for him, the Prince played his final card.
“You once told me I didn’t have to be one of the Children if I didn’t want to,” he said. “Do you still believe that?”
Tomaz’s expression froze, and his eyes stared holes in the Prince’s head.
“Take me to them, Tomaz.Now.”
The two of them stared at each other, locked in a frozen tableau for a long moment. And then the big man nodded, stood, and moved quickly off toward the arena door, the Prince following close behind him. As he passed the rack of practice swords, he pulled out the valerium sword’s sheath, quickly slid the blade inside, and tied it to his belt.
“Tomaz? Raven?” they heard Leah ask in confusion.
The two of them, Tomaz in front, burst out of the double doors onto the brightly lit street, sun shining down in cracks through the tall trees that grew on either side of the long, broad boulevard.
“Follow,” was all Tomaz said. The Prince complied.
They took off down the main street through the center of the sprawling valley city. Tomaz was moving so quickly, his large strides nearly three of the Prince’s, that the Prince was hard-pressed to keep up without running. They passed between various men, women, and children, who all gave them a brief, curious glance and then continued walking when they recognized Tomaz. Their expressions clearly showed what they were thinking: he was anashandel—that kind was always moving somewhere quickly.
They approached the large building the Prince had seen when they had first come through the town, made of white stone and green and gold columns amidst beautiful sculptures. Tomaz turned toward it, and the Prince followed him quickly, passing large, cultivated trees, and a small fountain made of a man spouting water from an upward-reaching hand.
Quickly, they made their way past the silver-and-green liveried guards at the doors, who stepped aside with a nod to Tomaz, though they eyed both his greatsword and the sword sheathed by the Prince’s side with suspicion. Inside were three huge staircases, two going up and branching off to the right and left, and one equally grand but descending straight down through the floor into the living rock of the valley. It was down this third flight of stairs that they madetheir way, moving past various groups of men and women who looked to be going about rather important, official business.
The stairway curved twice, all the while descending, going so far down that the Prince soon realized they were quite possibly further underground than most buildings were above. Finally, they came to a long hallway, at the end of which could be seen a large door carved with majestic beasts and meditating men and women. There was a green-and-gold embroidered black carpet running the length of the hall, and burning torches had been lit and placed in brackets on the walls every few yards.
At the end of the corridor stood eight Kindred in formal uniforms of green-and-gold over tight-fitting black clothing that covered their arms, legs, and neck: four had the insignia of a white sword sewn into their high collar and four the insignia of a white dagger.
“Brothers and sisters,” Tomaz called out as they neared, “stand down!”
The eight guards, what the Prince suddenly realized were four Rogue or perhaps Ranger pairs, spread across the corridor and seemed not at all inclined to do as Tomaz suggested.
“Who comes to the Council?” a wiry man with a shock of white hair asked. He had stepped forward and unsheathed a pair of remarkably thin swords, which nonetheless had razor sharp edges that gleamed dangerously in the light from the burning torches. There was a dagger on his high collar.
“One who brings urgent news,eshendai,” Tomaz said, stopping with the Prince a few yards away. The Prince shifted closer to the big man’s left side and put a hand behind his back, under his shirt, resting it on the hilt of his hidden dagger; his other hand kept a firm grip on the valerium sword, sheathed by his side.
There was a sudden noise from outside the room in the antechamber back where the staircase ended; it was the sound of steel on steel. Immediately, two of the pairs loped past Tomaz, drawing their various weapons and heading forthe door. Tomaz and the Prince exchanged a glance. The Prince nodded toward the door back to the staircase, his message clear—draw them off. Tomaz stared at him, truly realizing for the first time that the Prince didn’t mean to gain admission, but instead to force it. The Prince watched as disapproval and confusion warred with trust. And then the giant gave the barest hint of a nod.
“You two—with me,” he said, motioning to the third pair. He turned and ran for the door, not waiting to hear their response. For a moment, they stared stupidly at each other, and then they rushed off down the corridor. Once they reached the door, they ran through, and it closed with a resoundingboom.
As soon as the door closed, the Prince was in motion, dashing forward as the dagger came out from beneath his shirt, blade flashing in the torchlight. Theeshendaifell first, not even knowing what had hit him. Theashandelspun around, only to see the dagger fly through the air and strike him squarely between the eyes. The sword fell from his fingers and hit the ground with a clatter, followed closely by the loud thump of his body.
The Prince retrieved the dagger and replaced it, instead unsheathing the valerium sword. It felt heavier than it had in the arena, and the Prince knew it had nothing to do with the actual weight.
He turned toward the door. There were two keyholes and no visible door handle. One keyhole was made of gold, the other of silver, both large but simple in design. A glimmer of light caught the Prince’s eye, and he saw a large golden key hanging around the neck of theeshendai, having come out of the man’s tunic when he fell. The Prince ripped it off and then quickly found the matching key on the body of theashandel. He rammed the keys into their holes and turned them simultaneously, arms stretched wide to either side.
The wide double doors cracked open, producing a rush of air that sputtered the torches in the hallway. He pushed, and they opened inward on oiled hinges.
On the other side of the door was a large circular room made from the living rock of a subterranean cave, high-roofed as well as wide. An enormous roundtable of polished oak was set in the center, around which sat twelve men and women, each equidistant from the next, with a single empty chair to the side. All of them turned to look at who had disturbed their conclave, as the doors crashed closed behind the Prince.
He stepped forward, the valerium blade hanging heavily from his clenched fist.
Chapter Nineteen: The Chosen Path
