situation has to be a fight, and I know that.”
“Then you’re not a follower of Bellarum anymore,” Arydni said, watching him carefully.
“Even though I’m the General of the largest guild in Arkaria,” Cyrus said, keeping a thin tether on his patience, “I don’t have the luxury of fighting every battle I think needs to be fought.”
“Because you don’t have the desire or because you don’t have the resources for all those fights?”
“Both,” Cyrus said. “I’m a busy man.”
“So I’ve heard,” Arydni said after a brief pause. “I will see what I can arrange. I would implore you to come with as few people as you feel you can if we are to engage in this endeavor, though.”
“Can you guarantee our safety?” Cyrus asked.
Her hesitation before she answered told him all he needed to know. “No.”
“Then we come with an army.” Cyrus folded his arms, listening to the clink of the metal as he did so. “If Vidara’s minions are spoiling for a fight, I will not be caught unready.”
“I understand,” Arydni said, seeming to age before his very eyes. “I must return to my people to put some things in order. I will meet you in Reikonos in seven days’ time to venture to the Realm of Life.”
“All right,” Cyrus said. “Let me get a wizard to teleport you to—”
“I have already secured passage,” Arydni said with a smile as she turned away from him to cross the foyer. “A wizard from my order awaits me outside your gates.” She turned back to favor Cyrus with a weak smile. “Please do try to remember that I have hired you to aid the Lady of Life, not to leave her realm in utter wreckage while she is absent.” Without waiting for a response from him, she turned and wove her way through the throng still crossing into the Great Hall for evening meal.
“Cyrus,” a clear voice called out to him, causing him to turn. Curatio approached, his robes trailing the floor, his head cocked at an angle as he drew near to the warrior.
“Curatio,” Cyrus said, bowing his head. “On your way to dinner?”
“In a moment,” the healer replied. “I heard you had a meeting with some of the others regarding the Vidara investigation.”
“I did,” Cyrus said, “and our first step—”
“Why was I not invited?” Curatio asked, and Cyrus noted that his face seemed stiff, his eyes slightly narrowed.
“You’re awfully busy,” Cyrus said, shrugging. “I assumed you were—”
“You will inform me of any future meetings regarding this matter, and I will be in attendance,” Curatio said, turning from Cyrus to move toward the Great Hall’s massive entry doors.
“Curatio, your schedule is filled from sunup to well past sundown,” Cyrus said, and the healer paused to look back at him. “You’re doing the work of a Guildmaster now. Let me handle the matters of the General—”
“You will keep me informed of any meetings related to this subject in the future,” Curatio said, and there was not an inch of yield in his voice, like forged steel, hardened and folded over and over again. “This is not a matter that is up for discussion. I can be of assistance to you in this, and I am the most well-versed person in this guild in matters related to Vidara.” He took a step back. “Or have you forgotten that I was the one who spread her gospel to the entire Elven Kingdom in my time?”
Cyrus froze. “I … uh … it was not uppermost on my mind, no.”
“Did you think I would have undertaken that mission without reason?” Curatio stepped closer to him, and Cyrus saw a tightening of the skin around the healer’s eyes as they narrowed. “Do you think I would take centuries to campaign across the entire Kingdom to bring her followers for no purpose? I know the woman, damn you.” He snapped the words out. “I know her well, or did, and if she’s gone missing, I will be involved in helping to find her. Do I make myself clear?”
“I will keep you informed,” Cyrus said,