slammed out the door into the night without another word.
“Now then. Officer,” Ischade purred, focusing hooded eyes on Zalbar. “While we
wait, perhaps you can tell me what you think of the Beysib-Nisibisi Alliance.”
In the next hour, while anxiously awaiting Haught’s return, Zalbar became firmly
convinced that Ischade was insane. The silly woman seemed to have some idea that
the arrival of the Beysib in Sanctuary was somehow part of a Nisi plot … this
opinion apparently based on the observation that both cultures were snake-cults.
Zalbar’s efforts to point out that the Beysib used small vipers, while military
reports indicated that the Nisibisi were into man-sized constrictors, fell on
deaf ears. If anything, his arguments seemed to reinforce Ischade’s conviction
that she was the only one who could see the true ramifications of what was
happening in Sanctuary.
He assumed her mental imbalance was the result of her profession. If she was
indeed a necromancer, constant involvement with death and corpses was bound to
be unsettling to the mind. After all, look at the effect that dealing with one
dead person was having on him!
As much as he dreaded viewing his friend’s remains, Zalbar’s conversation with
Ischade was so unsettling that he was actually relieved when a footstep sounded
outside and Haught appeared once more in the doorway.
“I had to steal a wheelbarrow,” the necromancer’s assistant said in a manner
that was almost an accusation. “There were two corpses in the grave.”
“Two?” Zalbar scowled, but he was talking to thin air.