Servant of the Lost Power by Kay Kenyon

Author:Kay Kenyon [User, Microsoft Office]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781733674690
Publisher: Winterset Books

Prince Albrecht joined her on the roof. In growing excitement, he and Marshal Reinhart listened as Nashavety described her vision. Gone now, vanished like a ripple in a lake.

Albrecht believed that Nashavety had seen Yevliesza. A woman with hair cut to chin length. But he said that she could not be in the Mist Wall, an impossible thing.

That was the wrong way for him to think. She would have to steer him into the correct perception. “Perhaps the leader of the satvars knows the secrets of access.”

“If it is real, we must go in and take Yevliesza,” Reinhart declared, ever stating the obvious.

“First we must know why she went,” Nashavety said.

“But penetrating the wall?” Albrecht persisted. “A foolish story.”

“No, my prince. Many things are possible through the dark arts.” She raised her left hand like a claw, reminding him of impossible things that had come to pass. “I know it is possible. She is there. And I know why. She seeks power. What power of the Mythos is greater than the Mist Wall?”

The point struck home with him. You only had to know the right words to use, like power.

“If so . . .” He paused. “If so, we must find a way in and send a unit to apprehend her. Or kill her.”

But the place, the plane they were discussing was not a place of life and death.

“Nothing dies in the wall,” Nashavety said, remembering that part of the Mist Wall belief. “We bring her out. Then she is ours to control.”

She saw Albrecht’s doubt.

“My prince. Would it not be more satisfying to keep her and use her as we see fit? We must discover what she knows, how she can influence a solid material as she did with you in the crossings.”

Her thoughts were already on the difficult questions of how to penetrate that other place, to be—what did they call it—a traveler in its precincts. Like Yevliesza was. And when they found her, they would have her living body and not just an apparition.

A shiver of pleasure spread across her skin. It was within her ability to do it. The very night air coated her with power.

“Then let us take the witch-girl in hand,” Albrecht said.

How galling that he used the term witch. An insult to her race.

Oblivious, he went on. “If we can go in, let us take her.”

“Sir,” Reinhart said, “send me. I will bring her to kneel at your feet.”

Albrecht was watching Nashavety. “Can it be done, madam?”

“Oh, yes. But it is fraught with danger. Dire things can happen, things worse than death. One would have to believe it was worth it.”

“It is worth it,” Albrecht murmured. He nodded at Reinhart. “Let it be done.”

“No.” Nashavety said. “We must consider well who to send. It takes a particular quality to enter the wall.”

“Courage, madam?” Reinhart asked. “Arcane knowledge? What?”

“You must either love something beyond all bounds or hate something to the same degree.” She smirked. “Which do you think is stronger?”

Albrecht snorted a laugh. “Hate,” he said.

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