A bitter wind blew along the side of the cathedral, picking up snow from the boughs of a couple leafless trees on the grounds. The sky was overcast, making for an almost pitch-black night, which would make for perfect conditions if not for the blasted cold. At least she would be going inside soon.
Zandrue scanned the side of the cathedral. There was a single door here towards the back and a couple of large stained-glass windows. Higher up, there were a couple of regular windows, and each of the two towers on this side had a window even higher up. The door was the obvious way in, but also the way she was most likely to be caught. The cathedral ran a shelter for the homeless, so there were definitely people inside. However, climbing up to any of those higher windows was fraught with its own dangers. On the plus side, no light came from any of those windows, so the rooms beyond were either unoccupied or their inhabitants were asleep.
“Why are you delaying?” Jorvan asked.
She looked back at him. “Just debating the best way in. And where they might hide however they send messages. Assuming it’s something that can even be hidden and not just a magic spell or something.”
“A spell is unlikely,” Jorvan said. “It would indicate a practitioner of a lost discipline, which ought to be impossible.”
“Ought?”
Jorvan took a moment before responding. “Earlier today, Fevionawishtensen and Meleng found traces of magic from a discipline they did not recognise. It was just before the fire creature appeared. It suggests either a practitioner or a magical device of some sort.”
“Like the Pearl?”
“Like the Pearl.”
She really needed to use that pearl. Then she could just jump around like Dyle had done. She’d be in and out of the cathedral without a problem. She could also go back to Arnor City and find Rudiger. Unfortunately, Agernon wouldn’t let anyone else near it. She regretted ever turning it over to him, but Felit?a had asked her to.
“How’s Meleng doing, anyway?” Zandrue asked.
“Fine,” Jorvan said. “I was late getting to him as I was meditating in a private location and no one could find me. He was not badly hurt and had recovered by the time I got to him. Fevionawishtensen was more badly hurt.”
“She okay?”
“She will recover.”
“That’s good. Any idea what it was?”
“None. According to Meleng and Fevionawishtensen, it looked like a burning person. It would not die, even when Fevionawishtensen cut off its head.”
“Sounds positively unpleasant.” There always seemed to be something new to worry about. They never got any proper time to rest before something else tried to kill them. First, Darkers. Now, unkillable fire creatures. What next? Felit?a had said something about a prophecy saying demons would come for her this year. Was this creature one of those, or were the demons something else entirely?
A problem for another time. For now, she had a cathedral to break into.
“Okay, thinking aloud. Jump in if you have any ideas to add. If I wanted to hide something in a cathedral, where would I do it? The basement possibly. That’s a good place to hide things. It’s easy to hide entire rooms in basements.”
“Or some place high,” Jorvan said. “Humans have difficulty accessing high places.”
“Good suggestion.” Zandrue looked up at those high windows again. In one of the towers, perhaps? She looked back at Jorvan. “I don’t suppose you could fly me to the top of one of the towers? Or perhaps a window?”
Jorvan looked up and then back at her. “Perhaps. I have carried Meleng and Sinit?a before, as well as a girl in Ninifin. However, you are taller even than Sinit?a. Less fat, but more muscle. I suspect you are heavier than any of them. Fevionawishtensen could do it.”
“I guess I should have brought her then. You’re useless.” She grinned.
“I did not say I could not do it,” Jorvan said.
Zandrue grimaced. He must not have been able to see her grin in the dark. “Sorry, just a joke.”
“I realise,” Jorvan said. “It is a short trip, so I am certain I can manage it. Which tower do you wish me to take you to?”
That was the question. Four towers to choose from, each one dedicated to one of the gods. Which god would they choose to help hide something like this? If there were Darkers operating here, the Tower of Night would be the perfect irony. But which tower was Night’s? Was there a way to tell from the outside? She was fairly certain it was one of the ones at the back, but the one on this side or the other side?
Stained-glass windows! In the Cathedral of the Gods in Arnor City, there were no decorations of any kind in the portion dedicated to Night. Presumably, it was the same here. There were stained-glass windows on this side, so it had to be the other side.
“One of the ones on the other side,” she said to Jorvan, motioning with her arm. “Come on.”
They hurried around the back of the cathedral and around to the other side. While there was a single large stained-glass window at the front on this side, the back end was bare of any adornment. There weren’t even any gargoyles along the edges of the roof like there were on the rest of the building. However, the back tower did have a single window about three quarters of the way up and the top was crenellated. She pointed. “There. It’s not a bell tower like the front two, but there’s definitely something inside it, so I’m guessing there must be a way to access it from the top. If there isn’t, you can always take me to the window.”
“I think I can manage it.” Jorvan came up behind her and looped his arms around her front. “You will need to squat a little to start, as I need to get my arms around your shoulders and you are much taller than I am.”
Zandrue did as he asked, and he looped his arms around her shoulders tightly.
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“Hold on tight,” he said.
She tried to wrap her arms around to his back.
“No. That will only interfere with my wings. Hold on to my arms.”
“Right. Sorry” She had been a child the last time anyone carried her in flight, and then she hadn’t had to do much holding on. She’d been much smaller at the time, and her carriers had been big and strong enough to carry her in one arm. She grabbed hold of Jorvan’s arms.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Ready.”
Then Jorvan spread his wings and jumped into the air.
The experience was different than she remembered—probably again because Jorvan was smaller than, and not as strong as, the Volg warriors who had carried her during training. Jorvan didn’t move as fast, so there wasn’t quite as much air blowing into her face, and less of a thrilling tingle in her stomach.
The top of the tower still approached quickly though, and after a few seconds they flew over the crenellations and fairly high over the tower. The roof was flat and, as Zandrue had suspected, there was a trap door allowing access inside. Surprisingly, however, the door was currently open.
As Jorvan began a gentle descent to the roof, he said, “Be ready. Your feet will touch the roof before mine.”
“I’ll be ready.” As a child, she had practised leaping from her carriers’ arms into windows, and other ridiculously dangerous acts that had permanently disabled many arcraime hopefuls. It had been a long time, but this would be nothing in comparison.
As soon as her feet touched the roof, she let go of Jorvan’s arms, and he released his grip. She stepped forward away from him as he landed as well.
She glanced back at him. “Is it all right for you to land here?”
He tilted his head momentarily. “I believe as long as I do not go inside, I am not in violation.”
“You believe?”
He shrugged. “It is good enough for me.”
Nodding, Zandrue knelt beside the open trap door. Hopefully, there was no one inside who had heard them. She glanced down and immediately pulled back. There were three people in the room below, off to the side. Two of them were…
Wait. Something was off.
She leaned forward again.
Two of the people were lying on the floor, face up, but they’re eyes were closed. Both were completely naked, and they were unmoving. The third figure sat against a crate by the wall near them, eyes also closed and completely naked.
Asleep or dead?
They were all very still, but it was dark enough that subtle breathing might not be noticeable.
She sat back.
“Is everything all right?” Jorvan asked.
“Not sure.” She motioned to the opening. “Take a look.”
Jorvan came forward and looked down. “Are they dead?”
“If not, in this cold, they soon will be. I’m going in.” She slid forward and dangled her legs over the edge. There was a ladder in the room, but unfortunately leaning against a wall and not under the trap door. However, it wouldn’t be a problem to jump down. It was only an eleven- or twelve-foot drop.
With a little push against the edge, she dropped down into the room, landing easily. After a moment to make sure of her balance, she rose to her feet and glanced around the rest of the room. It was a square chamber, roughly the width of the tower minus the thickness of the walls. In addition to the three sleeping/dead people and the ladder, there were several crates along the walls, as well as a few sacks of varying sizes. A flight of stairs descended from one corner.
She took a few cautious steps towards the people. The two lying flat on the floor were women and the other was a man. They were all roughly the same height, with pale skin and bald heads. Zandrue knelt beside the nearest—one of the women—and checked for life signs.
Dead.
So were the other two.
Zandrue sniffed, then leaned in closer to each one in turn and sniffed again. All had virtually no scent, which was perhaps not too surprising, as they hadn’t been sweating or doing anything to accentuate their scents. Still, she would have expected some scent of decay, though perhaps the cold was keeping them preserved. Either that or they had died very recently. Or both.
One of the women was covered in frost and even had bits of ice on her, which indicated she might have been here a while. The other bodies were not similarly frost-covered, though the other woman had dirt smudges in several places. The man’s body was completely clean.
“Do you have any idea who they are?” Jorvan asked.
“None.” She looked up, where he was leaning over the trap door. “It’s very strange.”
“It does seem an unusual place to store dead bodies.”
She nodded, then turned her attention back to the bodies. She cautiously ran a finger along the man’s chest. “No hair.” She lifted his arm and looked closely at it. No hair there either. There seemed to be no hair anywhere on his body. A quick check of the two women confirmed they were the same. “They’re all hairless.”
“Does that mean anything?”
“I’m not sure.” She lifted the arm of the woman with the dirt smudges—Smudgy she’d called her for now; Smudgy, Frosty, and Mister Clean. The arm was a little stiff, but that was probably due to the cold rather than rigor mortis. The skin was fairly pliant, though kind of leathery in texture—the same as the man’s. Frosty’s was stiffer, but essentially the same.
Zandrue stood up and backed up until she was under the trap door. “They’re the size and build of humans and don’t have any wings, but their skin is more like an Isyar’s.”
“That does not make sense.”
“You’re right there. Hybrids?”
“That is not possible.”
Zandrue shook her head. “Neither is Corvinian. Or Staves of Sestin. Or using magic from lost disciplines. Yet we’ve encountered those.”
“Surely you are not suggesting—”
“I have no clue what I’m suggesting. I’m just trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. I’m going to head downstairs and see what I can find. You’ll be okay up here?”
Jorvan nodded. “I will move from tower top to tower top and watch for if you need me. You may need to be loud if you need me.”
“Don’t worry. I will be. That trap door’s pretty narrow. You might have trouble fitting your wings through. I expect ones on the other towers will be about the same size. Will you be able to get through?”
“If necessary, I can make them wider.”
Zandrue snickered. “Of course. Silly me. Right. Talk to you later.”
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