‘I recall him not asking for it,’ growled Nenanda.
‘He is not all powerful,’ said Desra, ‘though he might affect such-it comes with being so young.’
Nimander stared across at her. Where did that insight come from?
‘Clip is vulnerable?’ Kedeviss asked in mock surprise. ‘Be quick to take advantage of that, Desra.’
‘The endless siege that is your envy grows wearisome, Kedeviss.’
Kedeviss paled at that and said nothing.
Oh, we are a vicious bunch, are we not? Nimander rubbed at his face, then said, ‘Let’s go, then, and see for ourselves what has become of him.’
Desra was first through the door.
Out into pale silvery light, a cerulean sky devoid of clouds, looking somehow speckled with grit. The harvested plants drooped in their racks, sodden with dew, the bulbs like swollen heads lined up in rows above the latticework. Nimander saw, as he paused out on the street, that the temple’s doors were ajar.
Clip was lying on the wooden sidewalk in front of the tavern, curled up, so covered in dried blood that he might have been a figure moulded in black mud.
They set out towards him.
Clip’s eyes were open, staring-Nimander wondered, if he was dead, until he saw the slow rise and fall of his chest-but showing no awareness of anything, even as they closed round him, even as Nimander knelt in front of him.
Skintick moved up to the tavern doors, pushed them open and stepped inside. He staggered out a moment later, both hands covering his face as he stumbled out into the middle of the street and stood there, back to the others.
Slaughter. He slaughtered them all. Clip’s sword was lying nearby, thick with gore, as if the entire weapon had been dragged through some enormous beast.
‘They took something from him,’ Aranatha said. ‘Gone. Gone away.’
Nenanda broke into a jog, straight for the temple opposite.
‘Gone for good?’ Nimander asked Aranatha.
‘I don’t know.’
‘How long can he live this way?’
Shi shank her head, Force food and water into him, keep his wounds clean…’
Long moments when no one spoke, when it seemed not a single question could be found, could be cleaned off and uttered in the name of normality.