Shadow's Witness: Sembia: Gateway to the Realms, Book II by Paul S. Kemp

Author:Paul S. Kemp [Kemp, Paul S.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780786961825
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast Publishing
Published: 2011-12-13T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 7

REUNION

When he reached the top of the well, Cale climbed over the side and sprinted as fast as he could down Winding Way, away from the vileness of the guildhouse, away from the evil of Yrsillar. Minutes or hours later, he finally stopped, exhausted. The cold air stung the tender skin of his charred face. His heart raced and his gasping breath formed great clouds of frost before his face.

Get yourself under control, he ordered himself. If they were coming, they’d already be here. With an effort, he calmed himself. He had to use his right hand to peel his left fist from the hilt of his sheathed long sword. Only then did he remember that he had no cloak. Adrenaline had warmed him, but now he began to feel winter’s chill. His armor and clothing held off much of the cold, but he would have to buy a cloak when Selgaunt’s shops opened.

They’re not coming, he assured himself again, and crossed his arms against the cold. At least not yet.

Back in control of himself, he bent against the wind and sloshed through Selgaunt’s empty streets. He looked about with mild surprise—the towering brick buildings of the Warehouse District loomed on all sides. He had run halfway across the city—and it was no coincidence he had run in the direction of Stormweather. The Uskevren manse stood only blocks north of him, on Sarn Street.

At that moment, the fact that he could no longer return to the familiar comfort of his room hit him hard. He could not return to the welcoming warmth of Thazienne’s smile. He had nowhere to go.

I can’t go back, he reminded himself again, reaffirming his decision. At least not yet, and especially not now. The risk to the family was too great.

While Cale did not yet fully understand everything that had happened at the guildhouse, he understood enough to know that Yrsillar had targeted him personally. The demon’s words rattled around in his head like a pair of knucklebones—Champion of Mask. You and the other.

What did that mean? If anyone, the Righteous Man was Mask’s Champion, or had been. He was the priest, not Cale. Cale invoked the gods only to oath by their names. He had never even prayed to one, had been in a church only twice in his lifetime. He consciously kept gods and temples at a distance. He stayed out of their business and they stayed out of his.

Still, Cale could not deny the magical darkness that had suddenly appeared in Mask’s shrine. Only he had been able to see through it. That certainly seemed a divine blessing of sorts.

Perhaps it was, he reluctantly acknowledged. But how can I be the servant of a god? Much less a god’s Champion?

He found the idea so improbable as to be laughable, and yet thinking of it brought him a strange exhilaration and a peculiar fear. He had no desire to surrender himself to the whims of a god. Still …

Would it be so

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