Free The Pegasus's Lament by Martin Hengst Page B

Faxon, then to Tia, then back to Adamon. Whatever he knew of this artifact, Tia thought, it wasn't good.
    “The Chalice of Souls was here?”
    Adamon reached into his robe and withdrew a roll of yellowed parchment. The edges were so brittle that some flakes broke off as Wynn unrolled it, even though his touch was gentle, almost reverent. He scanned the parchment, looked skyward as if expecting an answer, then rerolled the document and returned it to the Inquisitor.
    “Do you,” Wynn began, swallowing loudly. “Do you think that the theft of the Chalice of Souls and the sacking of the Captain's tomb are related?”
    “ Yes,” Adamon replied. “Don't you?”
    “ I'd happily weigh in with an opinion if someone would fill me in,” Faxon snapped. Tia hadn't planned on saying it, but she was glad that Faxon had.
    Adamon motioned to Wynn and folded his arms into the sleeves of his robes. Tia could feel the weight of his eyes. It wasn't the first time she had thought he knew more about her than he was letting on, but so far, he hadn't said, or done, anything about it, so she was inclined to leave it alone.
    “The Chalice of Souls is an ancient Xarundi artifact. The legend is that after the Cleansing, the One True King took the Chalice as spoils of war and returned it to the capital.
    It was said that the Chalice was the cornerstone of the Xarundi's necromancy...that by combining the Chalice and the Dyr, they were able to reanimate the dead and bind the tattered remnants of the soul that were scattered around the ethereal realm to the reanimated body. ”
    Tiadaria's blood ran cold. Though she still didn't know who had stolen the body, she had a horrible certainty that she knew what they were going to do with it.
    “They're going to bring him back,” she said quietly, looking at the ground between her knees. “They're going to bring him back and turn him against the land he loved.”
    “ They can't,” Wynn said flatly. “What we know of the ritual is long and complicated and requires several blood sacrifices. Plus, they'd need the Captain's blood. He--”
    The young quintessentialist broke off, looking pained. Tia had already skipped ahead and had a good idea what he was about to say.
    “He's been dead too long for them to take his blood,” she finished for him, climbing to her feet. “Maybe it's not him they plan to reanimate, then. Maybe it is something else entirely.”
    Adamon shrugged.
    “It's pointless to guess, Lady Tiadaria. We need more information before we can form an adequate hypothesis. I trust that you are willing to offer your, ah, unique skills, to the cause?”
    Again Tia had the unnerving feeling that Adamon knew more than he was saying. She ignored it and nodded.
    “Of course, Master Vendur. Whatever you require.”
    “ Very well,” Adamon replied, flipping the hood of us robe up. With the light of day as faint as it was, the motion plunged his features into shadow. “Good day.”
    The Grand Inquisitor seemed to glide away from them, fading from view almost as quickly as he had appeared.
    “I don't trust him,” Faxon said softly, peering after the younger man. “Not even a little bit. And I don't like how he implies he knows something about you that he doesn't, Tia.”
    She shrugged. “Maybe he does know.”
    Faxon snorted. “If he knew, you'd be in a cell or censured. There is very little grey in Adamon's sense of justice. There is black and white, and woe betide the poor individual who tries to convince him otherwise.”
    “ What about this artifact,” she asked, addressing the thing that was bothering her far more than what Adamon knew or didn't know. “Do you really think its theft is related to the Captain's body, Wynn?”
    The younger quintessentialist tugged at his lip for a moment before he shrugged, his eye meeting hers.
    “I don't know. Adamon makes a good point about the requirements for reanimation not being met, but I think it's too much, too close together, to be a