No-one spoke.
Abruptly, Hannan Mosag reached out and gripped Fear’s shoulder, gaze sharpening on Trull’s older brother. ‘The four sons of Tomad Sengar shall journey to that place. To retrieve this gift. You may take two others – I saw the tracks of six in my vision, leading towards that spire of ice.’
Fear spoke. ‘Theradas and Midik Buhn.’
The Warlock King nodded. ‘Well chosen, yes. Fear Sengar, I charge you as leader of this expedition. You are my will and shall not be disobeyed. Neither you nor any other in your party must touch the gift. Your flesh must not make contact with it, is that understood? Retrieve it from the spire, wrap it in hides if that is possible, and return here.’
Fear nodded. ‘It will be as you command, sire.’
‘Good.’ He scanned the three brothers. ‘It is the belief of many – perhaps even you – that the unification of the tribes was my singular goal as leader of the Hiroth. Sons of Tomad, know that it is but the beginning.’
All of a sudden a new presence was in the room, sensed simultaneously by the king and the brothers, and they turned as one to the entrance.
A K’risnan stood in the threshold.
Hannan Mosag nodded. ‘The slaves,’ he muttered, ‘have been busy this night. Come, all of you.’
Shadow wraiths had gathered round his soul, for soul was all he was, motionless and vulnerable, seeing without eyes, feeling without flesh as the vague, bestial things closed in, plucking at him, circling like dogs around a turtle.
They were hungry, those shadow spirits. Yet something held them back, some deep-set prohibition. They poked and prodded, but did nothing more.
They scattered – reluctantly – at the approach of something, someone, and Udinaas felt a warm, protective presence settle at his side.
Feather Witch. She was whole, her face luminous, her grey eyes quizzical as she studied him. ‘Son of Debt,’ she said, then sighed. ‘They say you cut me free. Even as the Wyval tore into you. You cared nothing for that .’ She studied him for a moment longer, then said, ‘Your love burns my eyes, Udinaas. What am I to do about this truth?’
He found he could speak. ‘Do nothing, Feather Witch. I know what is not to be. I would not surrender this burden.’
‘No. I see that.’
‘What has happened? Am I dying?’