Part 18 (1/2)
”Well, I did that,” Cyrus said, arms folded in front of him. ”And you didn't say not to attack Kortran, I might add.”
”I a.s.sumed you would not be foolish enough to dig your own grave,” Ehrgraz said. ”Apparently, I was in error.”
The warm wind stirred Cyrus's hair across his forehead, and he glanced around. Vaste was not present this time, thankfully, nor anyone else save for Vara, who stood back at the other end of the parapet, listening but not involved in the conversation. ”You got what you wanted. The t.i.tans are currently filling the Gradsden Savanna from one side to the other.”
”Is that so?” Ehrgraz asked, eyes flas.h.i.+ng.
As though you don't know. ”We've tried to send scouting parties to the portals in the intervening days.”
”How many attempts?” Ehrgraz interrupted.
”Two,” Cyrus said coolly. ”They barely made it back alive. The portals are watched. This has been confirmed by the elves of Amti-”
”Let me also confirm it for you,” Ehrgraz said. ”They have increasing garrisons standing guard around every portal in the area, and archers waiting to bring down anyone such as yourselves who can't fly high enough to avoid their gaze and their arrows.”
Cyrus did not blink, but only through careful practice holding things in. ”I suppose that strikes our next plan, which was to conduct a long-range attack back into Kortran-”
”Back?” Ehrgraz's wings spread out in what looked like some combination of shock and outrage, his jaw flapping open. ”Why in the name of the demons of old would you go back? Have you not done enough to try to kill yourself?”
”I figured if we killed Talikartin-”
”If!” Ehrgraz huffed. ”Yes, indeed, if you had! I, for one, am amazed you succeeded in killing Razeel, and it seems that only his own incompetence allowed you to do it.” He s.h.i.+fted his gaze to Vara. ”Personally, I would have ripped your head off first, were I him, but I suppose I view you as dangerous rather than dinner.”
”You know a surprising amount about what happens in Kortran,” Cyrus said carefully.
”And you know surprisingly little about it considering what you attempted.” The dragon made a low rumbling noise in his throat. ”Did you lose anyone in the effort?”
”A few,” Cyrus admitted. ”Probably two dozen, all told, mostly to t.i.tan attacks that smeared them into a state where they couldn't be healed or resurrected.” At this, he felt the plucking of regret within him. ”Not as many as we killed of theirs.” He paused, trying to find a clever approach for his next question and giving up when the route was not apparent. ”If you know so much about what happened in Kortran, why don't you know who is teaching them magic?”
”Why would you a.s.sume that I learned what I know about the events in Kortran from the t.i.tans?” Ehrgraz asked, looking far too satisfied for Cyrus's liking.
”Because the t.i.tans were the only other ones there,” Cyrus said, annoyed.
”And how do I know all I know about you, Cyrus Davidon?” Ehrgraz's eyes flashed. ”You think I get that information from my spies in Kortran? I don't.”
Still another person who suggests that we have spies in Sanctuary. It shouldn't surprise me, given the size of our guild, that there might be a leak or two. He hardened his face. ”For all your rustle and rattle about spies and wisdom and foolishness, I have yet to hear a suggestion from you about how best to proceed.”
”Nor will you,” Ehrgraz said, drawing his wings in close to his body once more, ”so long as you continue to consider idiotic plans like launching some foolhardy long raid into Kortran.” He paused. ”What would your aim be? What end, other than yours, obviously? You say to kill Talikartin, but you have failed in this task repeatedly. What would be different this time?”
Cyrus bit back the angry answer that bubbled up from within. ”This time ... I'd intend to make it so he wouldn't see us coming.”
”Ohhh,” Ehrgraz said, seemingly amused. ”Now this is a fascinating thing. Do you mean to suggest he was supposed to see you before?”
”I meant to punch him in the nose before,” Cyrus said, ”to b.l.o.o.d.y him good and have him know it.” He blinked away from those yellow eyes. ”Next time ... I just want him dead, and I don't care if he knows it's coming before or during. He's too dangerous to live unchecked.”
”Now we enter interesting territory,” Ehrgraz said, ”wherein the Guildmaster of Sanctuary considers a.s.sa.s.sination a valid option.” He made a sound like a chuckle, but rougher, and his wings spread once more.
”Do you see a better option?” Cyrus asked, his cheeks burning with a slight shame.
”You don't know what I see,” Ehrgraz said with something akin to a shrug of his ma.s.sive, scaled wings. ”But I will say this much-the cause is perhaps not as hopeless now as it was when I arrived, and for that I am heartened.”
”Because I'm willing to murder this t.i.tan, suddenly things are better?” Cyrus asked, frowning at Ehrgraz. ”How does that make any kind of sense?”
”Because perhaps you are not the fool I thought you were when I came here today,” Ehrgraz said, lifting into the air with a powerful sweep of his wings. ”I find hope in that, personally.” He looked at Cyrus with careful eyes. ”We will speak again ere too long.” And with a sweep of his wings, he flew into the sky and was gone in a matter of seconds.
The Council Chamber was still and silent, the quiet hanging oppressively in the air above them. Cyrus sat in his seat and dared to move only his eyes in surveying all those around him. It was the full complement of officers, along with Cattrine once more. She still looked tired, though perhaps less so than she had when he'd seen her before.
The one who looked most tired was Curatio. Since the arena, the healer had shut himself up in his quarters for long stretches of time, and even when he emerged he seemed changed, wearier, his complexion faded and his posture stooped.
”I liked killing the t.i.tans,” Longwell said, rattling his lance slightly as he adjusted it where it leaned. ”I make no bones about it. I wouldn't mind killing more.” The resentment practically dripped off his features, and Cyrus made a mental note to speak with the dragoon later about his gradually darkening demeanor. ”I only wish we could have hung in the fight longer before we had to run.”
”That was a very near thing,” Odellan said, his winged helm catching the sunlight on the table and causing Cyrus to blink away. It seemed perfectly positioned to hit his eyes, and he moved just an inch to his left to find relief, the green spots in his vision fading. ”I wouldn't care to have to run that particular expedition again, personally, for I would fear that a repeat engagement would not find the luck on our side as it was last time.”
”Luck nothing,” Erith snorted. ”I heard about what happened in the arena.” She nodded at Curatio across the table. ”If you hadn't had a bada.s.s heretic on our side, you'd have been trapped with no hope of escape.”
”Yes, well,” Curatio said, waving a hand lightly in dismissal, ”let us not tread too heavily on said heretic, for these sorts of things are very taxing.”
”I wouldn't care to be caught behind again, that's sure,” Andren said, nodding. His short hair stuck out in a few different directions, and Cyrus wondered if perhaps he simply didn't know quite what to do with hair that short. ”And Fortin may have come out of it all right in the end, but I'll tell you right now that joining him back together and resurrecting him? Nasty work. He almost killed me-”
”I, for one,” J'anda said, his staff in hand, ”didn't find the fight too taxing.”
”You were riding on a t.i.tan's shoulder the entire time,” Ryin said.
”But I was in several minds, charming my pets,” J'anda said, ”and it was all terribly easy for the most part. I could do it again. The t.i.tan minds, though,” he shook his head, ”terribly simple. You can probably imagine.”
”I don't think I'd care to,” Mendicant said, shuddering from where he sat, face barely visible above the table edge. ”I was outside when their army started stomping through. It was not ...” He breathed a rattling breath. ”We lost-”
”I know,” Cyrus said, nodding slowly. ”We're not going back to Kortran.” He caught a look from Vara out of the corner of his eye. ”Not yet, anyway.”
”Oh, good,” Vaste said, much more mildly than usual.
Cyrus waited, as did the rest of them, for further comment, but it did not come. ”Uh ... Vaste?”
The troll looked up from where he was staring at the table. ”Yes?”
”Where's the ill-timed barb?” Ryin asked, staring across at him. ”Where's the jibe? The j.a.pe?” The troll stared back at him blankly. ”The-”
”I know what all those words mean, you c.o.c.keyed dunce,” Vaste snapped. ”If I had anything particularly humorous to say, don't you think I'd say it?”
A shocked silence persisted for a moment afterward, broken by Cattrine. ”This is serious, then,” she said, her long, thin fingers laid out on the table in front of her.
”Why do you think they're guarding all the savanna portals?” Vaste asked sullenly. ”It's not because they're looking to have a ma.s.sive harvest of long gra.s.s, I can tell you that much.”