Book One – Chapter 17

THEY WAITED  for the strangers to approach.

At first, they were shadows, wavering at the edge of the guild’s light where the glow of the orbs met the pallid traces of moonlight. The storm stretched and distorted their forms, bending them into flickering phantoms. As they climbed the steps towards the entrance, their outlines gradually sharpened, figures carved into the night by the fierce glow of the orbs. Their silhouettes burned orange against the storm’s chaotic blackness, like distant embers drifting through darkness.

The guards formed a line at the entrance. Tirran and Estingar stood at the far edges of the platform, flanking the guild’s gateway. Yu found himself in the centre, left of the door. Imbiad was to his right, positioned between him and Tirran. All eyes were fixed on the approaching group, with the eerie exception of Tirran.

As always, Tirran’s gaze went everywhere at once, but then, his ears flicked distinctly towards Estingar. A subtle question. The ulbatan’s wing gave a brief flap, the avian equivalent of a shrug. His clawed fingers tapped rhythmically on the knob of a grey staff which he had brought from within. It stood upright, with the tip resting on the platform between Estingar’s talons.

“Will?” Tirran asked, his voice barely audible over the wind.

“Locked,” replied Estingar, his tone as unruffled as his posture.

There was more communicated than being said, more than Yu could decipher, but he understood that the guards were on high alert.

“Imbiad, do not attack,” Tirran repeated his earlier demand.

Glancing at Imbiad, Yu saw no hint of reassurance in the wizard’s stony expression.

Yu lost sight of things, in general. With a sharp jerk, he bent forward and bowed deeply, using the momentum to throw the heavy hood of his cloak over his head. The fabric was stiff with frost. The thing had not dried since his arrival. With his head covered and his gaze fixed on the ground, Yu quickly wiped away the ice crystals forming around his beak and eyes. Straightening, he forced his eyes to stay open despite the biting wind. He watched as the shadows gradually condensed into discernible shapes — figures with depth and detail.