Free Temple of the Traveler: Book 02 - Dreams of the Fallen by Scott Rhine

can be very simple, like a blue spot on the forehead.”
    “That wouldn’t work if she were turned away from them,” said Brent, his twelve-year-old apprentice. The boy had dark eyes and curly, black hair.
    “It could be anything: a visual cue in the veils covering their faces, an audible cue, or even the smell of incense preceding them. We’ll never guess it from this distance. Do handmaidens ever travel alone that you’ve noticed?”
    The thin-bearded Northman answered, “Aye. Just before dawn, one of the handmaidens comes out and carries away the sleepers who have died in the night. With too much indulgence, and too little food or exercise, it happens a lot to the older addicts. When the others awake, they assume that the departed went home to get more money or moved on to a closer circle.”
    Brent winced. “That doesn’t sound like a very pleasant job.”
    The Stone Monkey shrugged. “It’s probably a punishment duty. I’ve no doubt that this culling makes the sheep easier to handle. I’d bet it’s also the time when traitors are eliminated.”
    Jotham turned to the Stone Monkey with the broken jaw. “Ekvar, I need you to do me a favor. Pick one of your compatriots and bring me back the priestess who carries away the dead. This must be done in silence, and she must be alive and intact when she reaches me.”
    Ekvar rubbed his hands in anticipation.
    ****
    After dark, Zariah received messengers in her private office. Most of the Amphitheater of Dreams was of wooden construction. However, the region directly behind the Door to Eternity was not conducive to the vivid dreams worshipers desired. It corresponded perfectly to that region known to the scouts as the dead quarter. In a normal theater, the area behind the stage would be used to hold props, spare scenery, and actors waiting for their cues. Since no followers wanted to sleep in this mundane region, it’d long ago been chosen to house the priesthood. This section of the temple was a solid fortress of stone. Zariah’s offie was immediately behind the Great Eye in the center of the Holy of Holies.
    The Shadow of Kragen was first to demand her attention that night. His outline a mere silhouette, Tumberlin appeared and bowed respectfully to the crone. When she gave him permission, he manifested a complete self-image, now haggard and lean, with no eyes. “The pilot of the Kragen ship claims that the high northerly winds enabled us to sail at twice the expected rate through the most dangerous waters. We should arrive in Reneau in a few more days, weather permitting.” Eager to gain her favor, Tumberlin added, “This next item is confidential, but it may benefit you to know, great sorceress. We’ve news that a certain Sword of Miracles known as the Defender of the Realm may be heading your way.”
    Zariah’s eyes snapped upward from her desk to bore through the spirit messenger. “Impossible.” The god-forged Defender was one of the few weapons that could actually harm the Dawn race, and it’d vanished cycles ago. The return of this sword to the hands of men would’ve reached her ears before now.
    “Unlikely, but I wished to warn you in case you needed to make preparations. The Defender was used in the slaying of several wizards, including the mighty Lord Kragen. I’m sure you’re familiar with the power of my teacher and remaker. His sadistic concubine has searched for this blade with all of her considerable influence. The assassin fled to the protection of Bablios after we took control of the Executioner’s Guild. Your emperor’s Glass Daggers are already after the sword-bearer, and he shouldn’t survive long. We intercepted a letter written to the bearer’s lady love saying that he was off to war but would wed her upon his safe return.”
    Zariah could see no lies in the life fires of the messenger. “Are you quite certain?”
    Tumberlin seemed amused by the challenge. “Sorceress, I’ve seen this stocky woman he writes to. Her nose is