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By Root 405 0

the last two days informing him of nothing else. The DKarn-Duuk didn’t care. Moody and restless, he flitted back and forth in front of the vast expanse of crystal wall, his hands twisting together behind his back. Xavier indulged himself in this unusual outward display of agitation only because he was alone in his study. Though the walls were transparent in order that he could see out, he had cast a Mirror Image spell upon them, thus keeping others from seeing inside. A highly trained and disciplined warlock, Xavier appeared to the rest of the world to be enigmatic and imperturbable. Indeed, he was, most of the time. But not on this particular occasion. Not with what he had on his mind.

And it wasn’t the Challenge.

The entrance of someone into the Emperor’s study brought Xavier’s pacing to a halt The person had traveled the Corridor that opened silently to admit him; the rustle of heavy robes and the grunt of labored breathing were the first indications of the man’s arrival. Xavier knew who it was—only one man in this world had access to him through the Corridors—and so he merely glanced over his shoulder to see the expression on the face, more interested in that than the face itself.

At the sight of that expression, Xavier scowled. Biting his lip, he turned back to staring intently out at the panorama of city spread beneath him. There was nothing to see yet. The Challenge hadn’t begun, and he wasn’t truly watching anyway; his thoughts and his vision ranged far afield. Pretending to be preoccupied with the forthcoming event provided him with the opportunity to conceal his face from his visitor.

“I take it the news is bad, Eminence?” Xavier said in a cold, even voice. He had ceased his airborne pacing and stood perfectly still now, his hands held quietly before him—the Almin alone knew by what effort of will.

“Yes,” puffed Bishop Vanya.

Although the stroke had left the Bishop paralyzed in his left arm and had immobilized the left side of his face, Vanya had been able—with the help of the Theldara—to overcome these handicaps and lead a fairly normal life. Certainly his power in the realm had not diminished. If anything, it had grown under Xavier’s new regime.

The elderly Bishop tired easily these days, however. Even the few steps that he had taken from the desk in his office in the Font to the Corridor and out of the Corridor into the study of the Crystal Palace of Merilon had exhausted him. Collapsing into a chair, Vanya gasped and wheezed for breath while Xavier stood waiting, outwardly calm, inwardly seething with suppressed impatience—and fear.

When he had recovered somewhat, Bishop Vanya shot a sharp glance at the warlock from beneath half-closed eyelids. Seeing that The DKarn-Duuk was staring intently out the wall and, apparently, not looking at the Bishop, Vanya hurriedly lifted his paralyzed left hand with his right, and placed it upon the arm of the chair, carefully arranging the limp fingers so that he might hide all signs of paralysis. Everyone knew the Bishop did this, of course, and everyone deliberately kept their eyes politely averted until Vanya had managed to arrange himself. These were a people accustomed to dissembling. After all, they had pretended the corpse of their Empress was alive for a year.

Hearing the Bishop finally settled in his chair, Xavier half-turned, glancing over his shoulder. “Well, Eminence?” he demanded abruptly. “What kept you? I expected you last night.”

“The Duuk-tsarith did not return until early this morning,” Vanya said, leaning back cautiously in the chair, careful not to disturb the placement of his arm. He spoke clearly and distinctly, with only a slight slurring due to the paralysis of the left side of his face, a disfigurement barely noticeable (through the help of magic) by a downward slant to the corner of his lips and an almost imperceptible droop of the left eyelid. The Bishop would have considered this intolerable, had not the Theldara who treated him assured Vanya that he should thank the Almin he was alive, and not complain about such mundane matters.

“I know