“Why haven’t you? You’re supposed to be Randal’s apprentice.”
“Haven’t seen our long-eared Hazard since he left to find you sometime after
last midnight. It seemed young Niko had some sort of relapse.”
Tempus put a mild edge on his voice: “I haven’t seen Randal in days and I saw
Niko just before I came here. He was up and complaining about Jinan. No one
mentioned any ‘relapse’.”
“Well, our little mage is a bit naive about these things, chaste and virgin-pure
as he is. He saw something he didn’t want to see, though, something he called a
‘relapse’, and went running from the room like he’d seen a ghost. You put it
together, Riddler.”
The edge, and some of the confidence, faded from Tempus’s voice: “Roxane. Death
doesn’t stop Death’s Queen. She reaches me where I cannot defend myself. Hasn’t
Niko suffered enough?” he asked a god who no longer listened.
“We never did find Roxane’s body, you know. And by your own reports she could
steal a body as easily as a soul. She pacted with demons that night; she had the
power to slip inside his skull like a whisper-and we’d never know!”
“But Jihan would. She says there’s not one iota of Niko that isn’t pure. Pure
pain. I tried to make him hate me once, and he suffered more.”
“Damn you, man! He wasn’t suffering when I saw him last night,” Molin shouted,
slamming his fist on the table to get the mercenary’s attention. “If Roxane
hasn’t possessed Niko, then he’s calling her back himself with these dreams. We
could have a serious problem on our hands.”
“I’d go to hell itself to set him free of her,” Tempus resolved, starting to