Jorad and Corvan whirled about. An older woman with a cane emerged from among the four statues and stalked toward them. She wore an orange shawl, brown leggings, and large black boots. Her red hair was tied back in a scarf, and silver hoops hung from her ears. She reminder Corvan of a character from a movie he had seen in Fenwood.
Jorad took a step back. “Madam Toreg, I did not know you were still—”
The woman silenced him by brandishing the point of her carved staff in the priest’s face. “I wonder what you do know, Jorad. What you know of those who have lived in the broken side of the city for longer than you have resided in the priest’s compound, filling your belly with food supplied by the palace, food bought with the lives of those who toil and die out in the settlements?” Dropping her staff to her side, she lowered her voice. “What gives you the right to look down on those who refuse to serve the palace and live off what little they can find out here?”
Jorad bowed low. “I am sorry, Madam Toreg. I was overcome by the loss of this great library and such wonderful treasures. I had no right to lay the blame for this on those who live here now.”
The old woman’s face softened. “I understand how you feel; my mother was once curator of this library.” She leaned on her cane. “It is a great evil that is willing to destroy such a precious heritage in its rampant pursuit of power.”
Jorad pointed to the walls. “How could they get the water to flow so high?”
“We do not know,” Madam Toreg said, “but given all the recent work at the temple karst, I have no doubt they will try again. Come, I will show you.” The woman moved past Jorad, shot a quizzical look Corvan’s way, and motioned for them to follow.
Together the walked away from the torchlight cast by the four statues into the deep shadows under the balcony. The floor became more uneven and when Jorad stumbled she held out her staff for them to stop, then pointed below. At their feet, the floor of the building ended in a jagged hole above the shimmer of dark water below.
“The reflecting pool under our library had been still since the founding of Kadir,” Madam Toreg said in a somber voice. “It was a place of peace and contemplation for those who sought to learn and grow in the ways of the wise. One day, it began to bubble and froth, the water became foul-smelling and undrinkable. Finally, it erupted in a great geyser that shot all the way to the ceiling. Everyone fled to the upper balcony as the geyser hammered the ceiling below and water in on this level rose higher.”
She tapped a broken pillar on the rim of the fractured hole. “The geyser weakened the floor until it collapsed and blocked the geyser,” Madam Toreg said. “But even then, the water kept rising into the library proper, then flowing into the streets. The entry of the library collapsed and fortunately sealed it away from the approaching palace army. That collapse saved our community from being discovered, but the water found its way into the refuge we had created to hide ourselves from the Watcher and his soldiers. Although the water eventually receded from inside the library, many of our people were trapped inside and drowned.” Her voice cracked as she extended her hands, palms up, brought them sharply together, slowly lowering her hands until her fingers pointed straight down.
Jorad made the same sign back to her. His face a mask of deep sorrow.
Corvan gripped the stump of a broken pillar and leaned out over the edge. Far below, an island of broken stones rose from the center of a lake that extended from wall to wall. The water swirled slowly past the island in dark eddies.
He was turning away when a shadow slipped across the lake, just beneath the surface of the water. Something or someone was down there. He leaned out further to see where it was going, but Jorad yanked him back from the edge and beckoned for him to follow.
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Up ahead, Madam Toreg was stumping along with her cane toward the table where Kate lay. Corvan ran to catch up to her. The woman was knowledgeable and confident, maybe she would know how to help Kate recover from the effects of the black band.
Madam Toreg approached the large table and for the longest time, only looked at Kate’s face. Kate’s face had become more peaceful since Corvan had placed the medallion on her, make her appear as if she had been laid out for her own funeral. Madam Toreg caressed Kate’s cheek with the back of her fingers, and Corvan glanced up to find a tear slipping down the older woman’s face. Looking back to Kate, he watched as Madam Toreg put her hand under the girl’s wrist to feel for a pulse. Satisfied, her hand cupped Kate’s, probing the girl’s fingers and allowing the light of the medallion to spill into the room as she exposed the glowing letters.
The woman turned sharply toward him. “Where did you find it?” she demanded.
Corvan stepped away as she advanced with her cane extended. His back pressed up against one of the stone pillars, the statues were on, as her cane thrust against his chest.
“The medallion you placed on her,” Madam Toreg said sharply. “Where did you get it? Answer me truthfully, for your life depends on it.”
Corvan put both hands on the shaft of the cane, but she only pushed the tip harder against his chest. She was much stronger than she looked, and it felt like the metal tip of the cane was about to pierce through him.
Struggling to push the cane away, his forearm tightened against the lashes that held Morgan’s knife in place. In desperation, he gripped the knife with his other hand. He wanted only to defend himself, to push the cane away, but as he pulled out the blade, a flash of sparks arced through the air and front end of Madam Toreg’s carved staff fell to the ground, her cane cut cleanly in two.
The old woman gasped and stumbled back against the edge of the round table.
Corvan held the black blade limply in front of him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know—”
He never got a chance to finish. In an instant, all four statues came to life and leapt from their pedestals like lightening from a night sky. One struck the knife from Corvan’s feeble grip, two helped the old woman to her feet, and the fourth on the pillar behind Corvan dropped his torch and yanked Corvan’s arms up behind him in an iron grip.
Jorad moved in closer, shaking his head quickly at Corvan as he picked up the front piece of her cane and held it out to Madam Toreg. The old woman shook off the protection of her grey guardians, stepped up to Jorad, took the piece of her cane, then slapped his face. “You have betrayed us by bringing a servant of the Rakash into our presence. You have put those in the refuge in great danger. You are a priest of Kadir. You, of all people, know better than this!”
Jorad licked at a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth and shook his head. “As a priest of Kadir, I swear that I do not know where he came upon the black knife, but I am certain this boy is not of the Rakash, nor is he connected to the palace, the Chief Watcher or to . . .”
“Silence!” the old woman commanded. With her two grey men close behind, she moved in on Corvan and pointed to the knife on the floor. “If I dared touch that foul thing, and you were guilty of treason, you would die by your own blade.”
Jorad raised his hand. “Madam Toreg, you warned me not to judge people too quickly. Do not make the same mistake.”
The tallest of her grey men touched the woman’s shoulder and she turned to him as he stooped to whisper in her ear.
“You are certain, Garek?” she asked.
The man straightened, glanced with compassion at Corvan, then nodded.
Madam Toreg turned and gestured to the man holding Corvan. The man released his arms but remained close in behind him.
Madam Toreg studied Corvan’s face a long moment, stepped to one side, and pointed at Kate. “Garek tells me that your treatment of this young woman is definitely not what the Rakash would do. He says that you freely placed the medallion on her and asked she would live.” She sighed wearily. “I have seen far too much deception and betrayal in my life. What can you offer as a pledge that will remove any doubt as to your intentions towards the people of the refuge?”
It took Corvan only a second to decide.
“I promise that I will not betray you to the palace.”
He slipped the hammer from its holster.
“I swear to you on this.”
He extended the hammer toward her, its insignia throwing pulsing waves of blue light around the room.