Page 43 of The Brotherhood

“That’s what they do,” Sinrik reminded just as quietly.

He led her to the exact center of the four and stopped.

“Welcome,” the Pillar from the farthest throne on the right said smoothly. “I am Nexus, the architect of patterns in chaos. In my shadow is my apprentice, Mr. Elias Ward.”

He gave a slight nod, and the next Pillar announced, “I am Noctis. I study the human mind in chaos—what drives men to destruction and what destruction leaves behind.” His dark eyes sharpened with the slight tilt of his head. “Behind me is Zahir Malik. He is learning all that I have to teach him.” He looked at the next Pillar.

“I am Volkan,” the giant man muttered, his voice roughened, likely by his early years of violent discourse. He leaned forward a few inches, his watchful eyes moving over Beth. “My study is chaos itself. How it manifests, how it moves, how it takes.” His hard gaze came to rest on her face. “My apprentice is Colton Graves.” He leaned back slowly.

“And I am Oblivion. Historian of chaos,” the final Pillar said, his gaze lit with possibly amusement. “My apprentice is Soren Kai. I understand you have a gift of persuasion. Perhaps you can teach me so that I might wield it on my thick-skulled student.” Though his words were welcome and even kind, the Asian face with wise wrinkles bore no such hospitality.

Beth’s face turned up to Sinrik and he gave her a slight nod. She looked at them. “My name is… Elizabeth Sweetling. I once would have denied my persuasive powers, but now… I won’t. I can’t deny it, even if I don’t understand it.”

Sinrik had hoped to learn more about her as a passive bystander and his first payment was her full first name. Elizabeth. He regarded the Pillars, finding them locked in silent study.

“What has convinced you about your powers, little one?” Oblivion asked.

She again glanced up at Sinrik and he gave her permission to speak with another nod.

“Well… it was more than one event,” she began hesitantly, the lilt in her voice lacing the ancient hall with an audible silk. “I… seem to have more persuasion when upset or…emotional.”

“Please,” Noctis, urged with a low eagerness while locking all but his two pointer fingers together. “Educate us.”

More like entertain, judging by the gleam twirling in his gaze.

“Well… when we were on the road once, I had a… a dream.”

“Is this recent?” Noctis asked.

She nodded. “Yes. Two days before I came to be with, uh… Mr. Sinrik.”

“Might we know who you were traveling with?” Noctis asked again.

“It was a group of us. My husband and… Spook, and Samuel, and my sister. Zodak was with us and the triplets. They have unusual names.”

All eyes remained fixed on her, waiting.

“Fetch, Fathom and Fin.”

Oblivion’s eyes lit with wonder. “Go on.”

“We were on our way to pick up a woman in the northeast.”

“A relative?” Volkan asked.

“No,” she said, her voice thick with hesitancies.

“A very important journey with many complicated details,” Noctis offered, getting her gasp and nods.

“Yes. Very important and very complicated. I think I need to tell you everything before getting to my initial explanation.”

“Please do,” Noctis urged. “That we may properly understand.”

“Well…” She took a breath, glancing up at Sinrik, the turmoil in her gaze bringing his mouth to her ear.

“Speak only what you feel you should. You owe them nothing.”

She held his gaze for many seconds and the odd weight in her stare struck him with the urge to walk her out of there. She gave a nod and faced them.

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