Authors: Jeff LaSala
Then Soneste remembered Mova. “Regent, what of the Seeker priestess—?”
“The king is no friend to the Blood of Vol,” Moranna interjected. “Trust that the Cult’s involvement in these events will be thoroughly explored.”
Soneste knew she should be content with this. She held the envelope in her hand and stared back out at the city, her eyes drawn to the distant lights of the docks.
“You have King Kaius’s personal gratitude, Miss Otänsin,
his trust that you will keep certain secrets to yourself. We wish
to keep you as an ally.” Moranna smiled, with no warmth in her eyes, and turned to go.
“Is he to be executed?” Soneste blurted without turning to face the woman.
The Regent pause at the door. “No.”
“Will he be released?” she pressed. She turned, but Moranna had gone.
The door remained opened, so Soneste was free to go, given both recognition and a sinister warning. Five days ago, she had thought the world had looked different, that her part in it had changed. How did it look
She had no answer.
Perhaps it was just wishful thinking. Perhaps she’d grown fond of a Karrn and wanted to believe she’d developed some kind of understanding with him. What sentence or service did Major Tallis of Rekkenmark await?
Perhaps her investigation in Korth
As Soneste walked out into the snow-dusted streets, she decided upon her first course of action. There was a certain diminutive artificer who deserved to know a little bit more about Sharn.
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