Fall of Light (The Kharkanas Trilogy 2)

He frowned, gaze still fixed on his hands – not an artist’s hands, but a soldier’s, scarred and blunt. ‘Darkness, light, nothing but veils? What manner the gifts given to her by Lord Draconus? What is the meaning of that etching upon the floor in the Citadel? This Terondai, that now so commands the Citadel?’

‘Perhaps,’ she ventured, ‘Lord Draconus seeks to impose rules.’

His frown deepened. ‘Darkness, devoid of light. Light, burned clean of darkness. Simple rules. Rules that distinguish and define. Yes, Warden, well done indeed.’ Resh pushed himself upright. He glanced at the unconscious form of his lifelong friend. ‘I must see this Terondai for myself. It holds a secret.’ Yet he did not move.

‘You have not long to wait,’ Finarra said quietly.

‘I have been contemplating,’ Resh said, ‘a journey of another sort. Into the ways of healing.’

She glanced at Caplo Dreem. ‘I imagine, warlock, the temptation is overwhelming, but did you not just speak of the dangers involved?’

‘I did.’

‘What will you do, then?’

‘I will do what a friend would do, captain.’

‘This is sanctioned?’

‘Nothing is sanctioned,’ he said in a growl.

Finarra studied the warlock, and then sighed. ‘I will assist in any way I can.’

Resh frowned at her. ‘The Shake refuse your petition. You are blocked again and again. You find us obdurate and evasive in turn, and yet here you remain. And now, captain, you offer to help me save the life of Caplo Dreem.’

She drew off her leather gloves. ‘Your walls are too high, warlock. The Shake understand little of what lies beyond.’

‘We see slaughter. We see bigotry and persecution. We see the birth of a pointless civil war. We see, as well, the slayers of our god.’

‘If these things are all that you see, warlock, then indeed you will never understand my offer.’

‘How can I trust it?’

She shrugged. ‘Consider my purpose as most crass, warlock. I seek your support. I seek to win your favour, that you might add your weight when I next speak to Higher Grace Skelenal.’

He slowly leaned back. ‘Of no value, that,’ he replied. ‘The matter is already decided. We will do nothing.’

‘Then I will leave as soon as I am able. But for now, tell me what I can do to help you heal your friend.’

‘No god looks down, captain, to add to your ledger of good deeds.’

‘I will measure my own deeds, warlock, good and bad.’

‘And how weighs the balance?’

‘I am a harsh judge of myself,’ she said. ‘Harsher than any god would dare match. I look to no priest to dissemble on my behalf.’

‘Is that a priest’s task?’

‘If not, then I would hear more.’

But he shook his head, rising with a soft groan. ‘My own dissemblers have grown quiet of late, captain. I look for no sanction now, in what I do. And for the Shake, no god observes, no god judges, and in that absence – forgive us all – we are relieved.’

She walked to the cell door and dropped the latch, and then faced the warlock. ‘And now?’

‘Draw your blade, captain.’

‘Against what?’