He paused in the doorway. ‘In all your studies have you come across anything about the ruins to the west?’
‘Why do you ask?’
‘I was there yesterday. I… did not like the feel of the place. And yet I have passed through it many times. Something today was different.’
‘You felt in danger?’
He smiled. ‘I felt fear, and yet all I saw was a mist.’
‘I know that the ruins are five thousand years old,’ she said. ‘Perhaps you sensed the spirit of someone long dead. But if I find anything of interest I will call upon you, Grey Man,’ she told him.
‘It is probably nothing. But it was too warm for a mist, and it seemed to be flowing against the breeze. Had the girl not been with me I would have investigated the phenomenon. I do not like mysteries.’
Then he turned and was gone.
As the Grey Man left the library a small door opened and a slender, round-shouldered man stepped into the presence of the priestess. Like her he was shaven-headed, and wearing an ankle-length robe. It was of white wool, with matching gloves and boots of thin, pale grey leather. His tawny eyes cast a nervous glance towards the outer door. ‘I do not like him,’ he said. ‘He is a savage just like them.’
‘No, Prial,’ she said. There are similarities, but he does not have their cruelty.’
‘He is a killer.’
‘Yes, he is a killer,’ she agreed. ‘And he knew you were beyond the door.’
‘How could that be? I scarcely even allowed myself to breathe.’
‘He knew. He has an unconscious talent for these matters. It is, I think, why he has survived so long.’
‘And yet he did not know one of the raiders was hiding in a tree above him?’
The priestess smiled. ‘No, he did not. But he had strung his crossbow minutes before, and was holding it ready when the man leapt. As I said, it is an unconscious talent.’
‘I thought for a moment you were going to tell him,’ said Prial.
She shook her head. ‘I am hoping still that I do not have to. Perhaps they will not find us before we have completed our mission.’
‘You believe that?’
‘I want to believe it.’
‘As do I, Ustarte. But time is short, and we still have not found the way. I have scanned over two hundred tomes. Menias and Corvidal have at least equalled me in this, and there are still more than a thousand to study. Has it occurred to you that these people have long forgotten the truth of Kuan-Hador?’
‘They cannot entirely have forgotten,’ said Ustarte. ‘Even the name of the land remains similar. We have come across references to demons and monsters, and heroes who fought them. Fragments, mostly, but somewhere there will be a clue.’
‘How soon will the gateway begin to open?’ he asked her.
‘Within days rather than weeks. But the creatures of the mist are already here. The Grey Man sensed their evil.’
‘And now the deaths will begin,’ said Prial sadly.
‘Yes, they will,’ she admitted. ‘And we must continue our search with hope in our hearts.’
‘I am fast losing hope, Ustarte. How many worlds must we see fall before we admit we are too weak to save them?’
The priestess sighed and rose from her chair, the heavy silk gown rustling as she moved. ‘This one world did defeat them three thousand years ago. They drove them back through the gateways. Despite the power of their sorcery, and the allies they brought with them, they were beaten back. Even the Kriaz-nor could not save them.’
Prial did not look her in the eyes. ‘Five years we have been searching and have found nothing. Now we have – perhaps – a few days. Then they will send an Ipsissimus and he will sense our presence.’
‘He is already here,’ she said softly.
Prial shivered. ‘You have seen him?’
‘There is a cloak-spell around him. I cannot see him, but I can sense his power. He is close.’
‘Then we must flee while we have the opportunity.’
‘He does not yet know we are here, Prial. There is some power left in me. I also know how to cloak our presence.’