The Siege by Troy Denning Page A

conversation, or sat patiently on the benches along the walls, their gem-colored eyes glowing bright against the murk at their backs. Ignoring the bustle of murmured greetings and inquisitive stares shot the entourage’s way as it passed, Escanor marched his group down the center of the floor to a crowded seating area outside an enormous pair of guarded doors.
    The detachment commander kneeled and informed Escanor that he had already sent word of the prince’s arrival. A few moments later, one the doors opened and Hadrhune slipped out to inform them that the Most High was engaged and would see them as soon as he was able.
    Escanor’s eyes looked as though they might burn holes through the chamberlain. “You informed him that I am here with the elf?”
    Hadrhune met the prince’s angry gaze without flinching. “He is with—”
    “Did I ask who he was with?” Escanor growled, stepping toward the door.
    Hadrhune turned to cut him off. “I’ll announce you now.”
     
    “We’ll be right behind you,” Escanor said, catching the door as the chamberlain tried to close it. “The elf should begin his studies at once.”
    “Of course.”
    Hadrhune waved Galaeron and his companions through, but Mees, Rapha, and the rest of the prince’s entourage remained behind. They found themselves in a room even murkier than the great reception hall, where the gloom fell on their skin like ash and wisps of shadowstuff floated past in long smoky ribbons. As Hadrhune and Escanor marched the group forward, the voices of unseen whisperers rose and fell in the surrounding darkness, and cold chilblains rose to prickle Galaeron’s skin.
    Finally, they approached a set of whispers that did not fade and, as they continued walking, eventually hardened into the fuller tones of normal speech. Galaeron recognized one speaker as a female and the other as the voice that had addressed him in the Wing Court. Before they drew near enough to understand what was being said, Hadrhune had them kneel and press their brows to the floor.
    The two voices ceased murmuring, then the air grew chill and motionless.
    “I know how busy the war is keeping you, Escanor,” the Most High said. His voice was as sibilant and forceful as before. “My thanks for bringing these to me.”
    If the prince replied, Galaeron did not hear it.
    Instead, Hadrhune said, “I have arranged an offering from the giant, Mighty One.”
    “An offering? Let us see.”
    The air grew less chill as the Most High moved away, then Escanor’s feet appeared beside Galaeron’s head.
    “Have you power enough over your shadow to keep a civil tongue, elf?”
    “If he doesn’t, I can hold if for him,” Vala said.
     
    Escanor considered this, then said, “Good. Rise.”
    Galaeron and the others stood and found themselves facing at set of stairs at the base of a murk-swaddled dais. Escanor pointed toward the rear of the party.
    “It is customary to face the Most High when in his presence.”
    Galaeron turned and saw a gloom-shrouded figure standing next to Aris’s ankle, cowed head turned toward the statue. He began to circle it slowly, nodding in approval as he took it in. Galaeron glimpsed a pair of platinum eyes shining out from beneath the Most High’s hood, but that was all of his face that could be seen.
    After completing a full circuit, he stopped at Aris’s ankle again. The murk in front of his body swirled and there was a clapping noise, then he tipped his head back to address the giant—and Galaeron still could not see his face.
    “Truly, you are the equal of any gloom-shaper in the enclave,” the Most High said. “I shall be proud to display this in the Gallery of Treasures with the city’s finest works.”
    “You honor me beyond my skill,” Aris rumbled. “If you could have seen the story galleries at Thousand Faces before they were destroyed, you would know how feeble my talents truly are.”
    “The phaerimm have taken much from us all,” said the Most High. “I am