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 Felitïa 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? Felitïa 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 Sinitïa before, as well as a girl in Ninifin. However, you are taller even than Sinitïa. 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.

“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.”

The stairs spiralled down along the perimeter of the tower, with the space in the middle just an empty shaft. She soon passed the window she’d seen from outside, and then a little while later, the stairs reached a floor with a door. The stairs continued down beyond here.

Zandrue approached the door. It was hard to tell how far down she’d gone, but the main building had two storeys, so this door presumably went to one of those. She leaned in close and turned her ear to the door.

There was a hint of laughter somewhere beyond the door. Presumably people in the shelter. The laughter didn’t sound close, though it was probably best to avoid going that way unless she couldn’t find anything anywhere else. Finding a basement was probably a better place to search anyway, so she should keep going down.

She really didn’t know what she expected to find, though she certainly hadn’t expected dead bodies in the equivalent of an attic. Still, whatever she was looking for probably wasn’t stored somewhere other people could randomly stumble upon it. A basement or one of the other towers made the most sense.

The stairs only spiralled down a little farther before coming to an end in a small dark space. A large object, probably a crate, sat in the corner under the stairs, but the room was otherwise empty.

Why have stairs that go down to essentially nowhere? It could be for storage, she supposed, though it wasn’t very spacious, and even so, why only store a single crate in it? Perhaps it was just a space they didn’t need.

It was hard to see much in the dark here, though, so she decided to risk a little more light. She removed her backpack and took out the small lantern she’d brought with her. After lighting it, she held it out to get a better look at the darkened corners, particularly the object under the stairs.

Thick cobwebs hung from the stairs, and there was a brief flash as the flame from the lantern burned some of them away. The object was definitely a crate, covered in dust and more cobwebs. The rest of the space was clean though, free of dust and webs. So they made enough effort to clean everywhere but under the stairs, but not use it.

She shrugged and turned away. The crate obviously hadn’t been touched in ages, so probably wasn’t anything she was looking for. Perhaps one of the other towers would give better results. She just had to get across to them.

She prepared to blow out the lantern, but stopped. There was a small smudge of something on the floor near the wall by her feet. Probably nothing, but she knelt down to examine it anyway. It was a rusty red colour. She licked her finger, then rubbed it over the smudge. Bringing her finger to her nose, she sniffed.

Blood.

Okay, this was getting ridiculous. This was supposed to be a church after all. She had thought earlier how it would be the perfect irony if Darkers were using Night’s tower, but she hadn’t seriously expected that to be the case. “Come on, guys,” she muttered. “Get a little creative.” If she were running their organisation, she definitely wouldn’t choose a place so obvious for their nefarious activities. Still, it was fortuitous for her if they didn’t have more imagination.

So, why was there just a single drop of blood here?

They must have missed it when cleaning up after whatever had done the bleeding. It was hard to be sure, but the blood smelled human, so somebody injured or dead had been in this room, but where had they gone from here?

She knelt down again, and started examining the floor near the blood spot, gradually moving outwards, looking for any evidence of passage. Unfortunately, clean stone floors didn’t leave footprints.

However, there were some scratch marks—completely unnoticeable unless someone held a lantern right up to them. They formed an arc from the wall by the blood spot.

Zandrue almost laughed. Well, she had told Jorvan basements were good places to hide entire rooms.

She stood up again and examined the wall above the scratches, where she found the barest hint of a split in the stone. Following it, she traced the outline of a door.

The question was, how did she open it? There was no apparent handle. Perhaps she just had to push it—except the floor scratches were on this side.

The second question was, should she open it? There was no telling what—or who—was directly on the other side. It could be extremely dangerous to go in. Still, this was exactly the kind of thing she was looking for. The main problem was whether there was anyone directly on the other side. If there wasn’t, she was reasonably certain she could continue on unseen even if there were people farther in. Other doors were presumably not as big and heavy as this one.

Perhaps she should get Jorvan. If she ran into trouble, there was no way she could be loud enough for him to hear her from here. It might be wise to have him here before she encountered any trouble, except she didn’t want to make him violate his religious beliefs without certain cause.

Of course, it was a moot point anyway without knowing how to open the door.

No, it was obvious what she should do. She should leave and come back later with assistance. Preferably with Felitïa, except there was no way Mikranasta would let her go unattended, and neither she nor Hedromornasta would be willing to violate their religious restrictions and come in here. Still, she could probably get Nin-Akna or Meleng to help her.

There was a scraping noise and the door began to move.

Shit!

She blew out the lantern and hurried to the stairs, running up them to the floor above. Whoever was coming out would presumably come up these stairs, but how far? They might only come as far as this floor, unless they were going all the way up to where the bodies were stored.

She ran up a little higher, around a couple bends, far enough she could be reasonably confident the darkness would hide her from casual observation and she could still see whoever it was. If they continued up the stairs, she would deal with that then.

A moment later, two figures came up the stairs and approached the door. One was small—a child perhaps. The other was tall and broad. It was too dark to make out much more detail, and she definitely couldn’t smell them from here.

The taller figure opened the door, letting through a bit of light from beyond. The tall one was a muscular woman with a shrivelled ear on the side of her head Zandrue could see. The other was a boy, maybe a little older than Corvinian, with brown hair. She couldn’t see his face, but there was something familiar about him. Had she seen him somewhere?

They were through the door and gone before she could figure out anything more about them.

It was good that she hadn’t tried to go through the door, though maybe now was the time to try—while they were gone. No. There could be others there. She should stick to her plan of leaving and coming back another time with more people. In fact, maybe this information would be enough to convince Almais to come in with force, Treaty of Elooria be damned.

She turned to continue up the stairs, only to find someone standing right there.

Shit. How had they managed that?

* * * * *

A whistle distracted Jorvanultumn from his meditation. He opened his eyes and stood up.

Zandrue was waving to him from the other back tower.

With a smile, he spread his wings and flew across to her. She had been gone for hours, and he was starting to get worried. Dawn would be approaching soon.

“Sorry it took so long,” she said as he landed.

“Did you find anything?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. Nothing of relevance, anyway. I went down Night’s tower, crossed through the main building, tried the front two towers, then made my way back to this one. They have some interesting stuff here. I mean, this tower has a room filled with some beautiful artwork dedicated to Nature, but that’s hardly useful. I did find the room where they store their records and went through what was there, but they apparently don’t store records of communications there.” She sighed. “I had hoped there was some sort of device, a magical item that allowed them to communicate so fast, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. They don’t even have a rookery for message birds. What a fucking waste. Sorry for dragging you out here.”

“There is no need to apologise. I enjoyed having time outside, and the sky cleared a little, allowing me to see the stars. I was also able to meditate, which will make Mikranasta happy. She always wants me to do more.”

“Well, I’m glad you got something out of it.”

“What will you do now?”

Zandrue shrugged. “I’m not sure. I need to think about it. I might focus on trying to find Darkers in the palace. There must be some still there. Maybe if I can find them, I can find a link back here.”

“What about the bodies?”

“No idea. I suppose it’s possible they’re not related to what we’re looking for. I doubt it though. Even so, they show something nefarious is going on, which is why tonight is so fucking frustrating!” She kicked one of the crenellations, then pounded a fist on top of it. She spent the next few moments with her head lowered, taking deep breaths and clutching and unclutching her fist.

Jorvanultumn let her be. That always seemed the best approach when she got angry like this.

With a sigh, she straightened up again. “Want to fly me down to the ground, or hell, all the way back to the palace?”

“I can do at least the ground,” he said.

She squatted as he approached her and looped his arms around her shoulders.

“Perhaps you can return here another night and search again. Perhaps you just missed something.”

She gripped his arms very tightly—almost painfully so. “Yeah, sure.”

Clearly, she had not calmed down enough for that suggestion. He did not want to anger her more, so decided not to say anything about her grip and just put up with the discomfort.

Jorvanultumn understood her frustration. The bodies were a clear indication something unusual was going on, but to find nothing else after hours of searching would have frustrated him as well. It seemed likely she had missed something. It was a very large building, after all, and not a mark of shame at all if searching it required multiple attempts. However, he would wait until she had fully calmed down before attempting to suggest again that she come back. He also should not keep her waiting to fly.

Their previous flight together had not been an exceedingly large strain on him. He was not sure if he could make it all the way to the palace, but he could make it at least partway, so he would fly her as far as he could manage. He spread his wings and leapt into the air.