Page 299 of Of Empires and Dust

“There are records of old tears in the veil, of knights who closed them… but…”

“What is it?”

“The latter pages – those that I believe told of what truly happened – were torn from the books. As were a number ofothers. What’s more, that seems to be a common trend. A trend we would not have noticed had you not set us to our task of searching for Brother Tarron.”

“Does Watcher Gildrick know of this?”

“The rank of Watchmaster may have been abolished, Grandmaster, but in name only. There is nothing within these walls that Watcher Gildrick does not know.”

“Where is he?”

“In his study. He spotted something in one of the books earlier today and has been studying it ever since.”

“Something to do with Tarron?”

Poldor shook his head. “Something he believed might be of import in locating the Heart. Something about a fallen god. He said he wasn’t sure.”

Kallinvar nodded, staring down at the books on the desk. “There is wisdom in Watcher Arkustin’s thoughts, Poldor. These books may yet guide us along the correct path. But so too are they a danger. Keep them safe. Seal them in chests and ensure this door is locked at all times. They are for your and Gildrick’s eyes only. Understood?”

“Understood, Grandmaster.”

Kallinvar stepped closer to Poldor. “Watcher, we are close to what could be the end of all we know. A feather alone could tip the balance.”

“The duty of the strong is to protect the weak, Grandmaster Kallinvar. I remain faithful and resolute.”

“Achyron guide us.” Kallinvar inclined his head to the Watcher. “You have my trust, Poldor.”

“And you have mine.”

“Hmm. Let me know if you turn over anything that might be of import. I will see what Gildrick has found.”

Kallinvar stepped from the room and walked carefully across the antechamber, avoiding the sleeping body of Watcher Timkinand trying not to tread on any of the loose sheets of parchment. He snatched some Tarkin Stem from a bowl on a nearby table and tossed the whole stem into his mouth. He bit down, and the stem cracked, the sour juice flooding his mouth. Kallinvar clenched his jaw and sucked in his cheeks. Chewing Tarkin Stem was like snorting fire and eating a raw lemon at the same time. But it kept him awake.

The main entrance door creaked, and Watcher Tallia slipped in, a satchel strapped around her shoulder. She smiled at Kallinvar, then knelt and shook Watcher Timkin by the shoulders until he jerked awake and slapped his head on a table leg.

Kallinvar carried on, rapping his knuckles on the door of Gildrick’s study.

When no answer came, he knocked again. “Gildrick. It’s Kallinvar.”

No answer again. Kallinvar shook his head and turned the knob. As expected, Gildrick’s study was pristine. The scrolls set in stone alcoves were well kept and orderly, the candle on the desk was fresh, any dripping wax scraped away. And the books and loose parchments were stacked neatly.

Gildrick was slumped, not behind his desk, but in a deep leather chair in the far corner, a blanket over his legs, a book open in his lap.

“Old age, my friend,” Kallinvar said as he walked across the study and pulled over the book that sat at the top of the pile on Gildrick’s desk. “An alphabetical list of all Watchers inducted? I would have fallen asleep too.”

Kallinvar smiled. He shook his head and blew out the candle. Gildrick had earned his rest. Kallinvar could give him an hour or two, but there was no sense in burning the temple down.

He lifted the book from Gildrick’s lap, the dim light drifting in through the half-open door to the antechamber.

“A History of the People of Ardholm,” Kallinvar whispered, reading the title worked into the spine. He set the book on the desk, lifted the blanket up to Gildrick’s shoulders, and turned for the door.

When Kallinvar’s hand brushed the wood of the door’s edge, he stopped, frigid fingers creeping up his spine. A tiny droplet of doubt in his mind.

Gildrick never sat in that chair. He hated it, said it was as uncomfortable as the void itself. He’d kept it only because his old mentor, Watcher Harthor, had loved it so.

“Gildrick?” Kallinvar called back into the room, far louder than before. No answer came.

Kallinvar looked back into the darkness, dread coiling around his heart like a viper. “Gildrick?”

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