I force my tense muscles to relax and take a slow, deep breath. “Scholar Superior?”
“I am, child.” She finally reaches the floor and walks toward us, halting ten paces away. “I’ve expected you for nearly five decades. I was afraid I’d be dead and gone to the next life before you arrived. Now, though, you must leave. Immediately.”
Maybe she’s lost inside her memories? This happens sometimes when people get older. The books call it Altarran dementialus, or simplydementia. Surely, she can see I’m nowhere near fifty years old.
But then I see she’s looking at my shirt, not my face, as if she knows I’m wearing the amulet beneath it. When she raises her gaze to meet mine, she gives me a sudden, beautiful smile.
“Maybe there’s a chance after all,” she murmurs. “Maybe—”
A harsh voice cuts her off. “Are you making our guests welcome?”
We look up to see a tall man, dressed all in black, leap over a balcony rail and levitate down toward us.
“This is not good,” Andras says, putting a hand on the hilt of one of his many daggers.
“So brilliant at stating the obvious, Sylvan,” Chitai says, her teeth bared in a fighting grin, two blades already in her hands. “Trap.”
“No,” the newcomer says calmly, and he waves one black-gloved hand.
Chitai and Andras immediately crumple to the floor where they stand.“What did you do to our friends?” I rush over to them and check for pulses. They’re both still alive but out cold, their muscles rigid. “You had no right!”
Kaelen moves to stand between the newcomer and me, but he deliberately doesn’t touch a weapon. “We offered you no violence. Soli, are they dead?”
“No. Unconscious, but not dead.”
“Fortunate for you,” Kaelen tells the man, his voice ice.
The man in black shoves his long blond hair away from his face and laughs, his onyx eyes glittering. “Ah, but they did offer violence. They touched weapons in the Temple of Knowledge. This is forbidden.”
“They didn’t know,” the Scholar Superior protests, her voice subdued.
“Perhaps not. But is ignorance of the law a defense, Valourian princeling?” The stranger’s gaze never leaves Kaelen’s face.
“It depends on the circumstances,” Kaelen says. “And you are?”
“I am Darnen the Exalted, the Most High—”
“You’re Darnen the Exiled,” Elianna says flatly, moving forward from where she was hidden behind Trick. She glances at us. “My grandfather kicked him out of our territory decades ago.”
I catch my breath at the instant rage on the man’s face.
Elianna glances at me, her expression bleak. “Darnen was the leader of a group of druids in the Sorcerers’ Guild Deeded Territory. They were left to live as they wanted until theyvoluntarilyjoined the ranks of the Zhagarn and started playing with evil magic. Now they’re Fallen Druids, sworn to Corvynne.”
Darnen glares at Elianna, his lips twisting. “Ah. The heir apparent. I’ve heard of you. Done with your own exile in Pyrrh?”
“Zhagarn? What is the status of this temple, Scholar Superior?” Kaelen demands.
“You may address only me,” Darnen snarls. “She is nothing.”
“We are prisoners,” the Scholar Superior says, her shoulders slumping. “And now, unfortunately, so are you.”
Kaelen draws his sword. “I think not.”
Elianna raises her hands, as if to call her magic. Darnen flinches,and I realize he doesn’t know she doesn’t have any. Trick’s daggers are in his hands, and I even pull mine from its sheath, wishing the amulet had magic I could use in terrible situations like this.
Darnen shakes his head, a horrible, false sympathy on his face. “Now, what did I just tell you about touching weapons in my temple?”
Kaelen starts toward him, but the druid is faster. He waves his hand again, while keeping a wary eye on Elianna, and Kaelen collapses. I run over to check, but he’s not dead, either, thank Artemisen. His eyes are rolled back in his head, though, and his body is rigid.
