I glanced up at Errik, who still wore a friendly smile. “Yes, old friends, those two.”
“The Warden believes that cooperation between the Order and the five Cloisters is essential in order to protect the realm from those who would defy the gods’ will. Olden hostiles. Human traitors.”
Errik inclined his head. “The Blessed Abbot greatly values the Warden’s opinions on such matters.”
I swallowed my last bite of food and set down my spoon. “Funny, then, that he has not kept her apprised of your progress, that indeed he didn’t tell her about your search at all until quite recently.” I looked at him steadily. “I trust the Blessed Abbot has a good reason for such an insult?”
Normally I wouldn’t have been so combative. But danger was nearby. I could almost smell it. My senses were tingling, sharp as knives. And if I couldn’t fight something with my fists, I would do it with my words. Father had taught me that when I was small.A wisesentinel knows when to use her strength and when not to.The memory of his voice came unbidden, making me even more eager to move, to defend myself and Gareth—but againstwhat?
Gareth, blessedly quiet, took a careful sip of wine from his goblet. I barely resisted the urge to knock the drink from his hands, my mind automatically running through a list of every poison I could think of, and their antidotes.
“The Blessed Abbot has a good reason for everything he chooses to do,” Errik said, rising smoothly to his feet, “and everything he chooses not to.” He gestured at the door with that same bland smile. “Shall we join him? I believe that by now he should have finished his daily tasks and retired to his chambers.”
Two of the other monks at the high table rose with him and escorted us out of the dining hall. The other three monks remained seated. One looked after us once, quickly, before his gaze darted back to his food; one stared bleakly at the table, the other out at the dining hall as if in a daze.
I followed Errik with my hands in fists, resisting the urge to grab Gareth and run. The air crackled against my skin as I struggled to keep my power hidden but at the ready. It was possible the Warden hadn’t told them I was a sentinel, and they certainly wouldn’t know I was a demigod. I wanted to keep it that way for as long as I could.
Behind us, the dining hall once again fell quiet. The cavernous silence followed us down the dimly lit stone corridors. I focused on extending my power into the shadows as far as I could without alerting any of our hosts, stretching my enhanced sentinel senses to gather scents, sounds, and shadow-cloaked details normal humans wouldn’t be able to detect.
The effort focused my mind. The hallway to our left held faint scents of manure, straw, and animal hide; it must have led outside to the monastery’s barns. From the right, down one of the corridorswe quickly moved past, came the distant sound of someone sobbing.Pleading.A monk in passionate prayer? Or something more sinister? Either way, the sound curdled my stomach.
Gareth’s knuckles brushed against mine, tugging on my focus. I glanced at him, saw the question in his eyes. If only I’d had time to teach him the Order’s hand signals. Nevertheless I signed a quick warning against my thigh.Something is wrong. Eyes open.
He nodded once, his expression grim. In another situation, I would’ve laughed. OfcourseGareth and his sage mind knew our hand signals. He’d probably seen them only once but would still remember them forever.
“Tell me, Mara Ashbourne,” Errik said, walking just ahead of us, his voice as smooth and untroubled as his gliding gait, “is it true that you have met the creature Ankaret?”
Of all the questions he might have asked me, that was a particularly unexpected one. I thought quickly, keeping my face blank. What was the point of such a query? It didn’t feel like simple curiosity.
“No, I’m afraid I haven’t,” I said, trying to sound bored, “though I’ve heard tales. She must have been quite splendid.”
“But you were in the city called Mhorghast, were you not?”
My awareness of Gareth pinged sharply at the word, but his stride didn’t falter for even a second.
“Unfortunately, yes, I was.”
“Then surely you must have seen her? She died there, I’ve been told. Kilraith killed her.”
“So people have said. I was rather occupied at the time.”
Errik stopped at a set of great wooden doors and looked back at me keenly. Torchlight flickered in his eyes. “Yes. You and your sisters have been busy indeed. You killed the god Jaetris. You looked into his eyes and tore open the body that held him.” He tilted his head to the side. “Do you think you could do that again?”
All the fine hairs on my nape stood up. How did this monk know the details of what we’d done? Gareth moved a bit closer to me, his body radiating heat. I swore I could feel the drum of his racing heartbeat echoing my own.
“You’ve certainly heard some wild stories, Brother,” I said flatly. “I’m sure many would take pride in shocking a holy man such as yourself.”
Errik smiled. “You have studied the Olden arcana for years, Mara. You’ve studied human history, the Unmaking, the gods.” His gaze slid to Gareth, his smile widening. “And so have you, Professor. You’ve dedicated your life to the acquisition of knowledge. And yet nothing either of you had learned properly prepared you for meeting him, did it?”
A shiver skipped down my spine.
“You’re talking about Kilraith,” Gareth said quietly.
“He Who Is All,” Errik replied.
“He Who Is All,” intoned other voices. I looked back over my shoulder; a dozen monks had joined us from nearby corridors, forming columns at our backs. Inwardly, I cursed. Somehow I’d missed the sound of their approach. I needed tofocus.
“Tell me,” Errik said, unlatching the two great doors, “what is more powerful than a god?”
