The Ventifact Colossus (The Heroes of Spira Book 1) by Dorian Hart Page A

least twelve crescents, plus a handful of silver talons and copper chits. Dranko took a long draw from his cigar and blew out a downward-streaming slug of dark smoke. “You know that owl Abernathy gave us? Turns out those ruby eyes were the real deal. Figured there was no point in waiting to turn that birdie into some seed capital. Now you can buy yourself a blindfold.”
    “I’m not staying,” she told him. “Abernathy tried his best to convince me, but it’s not going to work.”
    “Shame,” said Dranko. “What about you, Grey Wolf?”
    Morningstar turned to see Grey Wolf on her heels. He wrinkled his nose. “I have a favor to ask. How about no cigars in the…wait. Is that gold?”
    “Dranko sold Abernathy’s owl this morning.” Tor flipped a gold crescent to Grey Wolf, who caught it deftly.
    “Right,” said Grey Wolf. “And Dranko, I’m sure you wouldn’t have held anything back for yourself. Yes?”
    “I could argue that I deserve a small fee for my service,” said Dranko. Grey Wolf took a step forward, but Dranko held up his hands. “I could argue that, but I won’t. I promise you, every last chit is on the table.”
    “I’m counting it so we can divvy it up fairly,” said Tor.
    Dranko gave Grey Wolf a toothy smile. “So, Mr. Wolf, will you be staying on as part of Abernathy’s team?”
    Grey Wolf looked thoughtfully at the coin. “For a little while, at least. Abernathy told me that a…personal goal of mine may be easier to achieve if I join this merry band. So I agreed to give him a couple of weeks, see if there’s any progress.”
    “Going to share?” asked Dranko.
    “No.”
    Morningstar did not fault Grey Wolf for not being the sharing type. And on the subject of sharing, should she tell Tor about her Seer-dream now, or wait until they were in private?
    Eddings came in from the dining room. “Ah, Lady Morningstar. A letter arrived for you, not more than an hour ago.” From his jacket pocket he pulled a slim black envelope.
    A letter from the temple? A swift rejection of Abernathy’s query, she assumed. She tore open the envelope and read.
     
    Sister Morningstar,
    We have learned of your changed circumstances, and your recent employment by the Archmage Abernathy of Tal Hae. Though I do not personally condone it, the High Priestess Rhiavonne in Kallor has allowed you special dispensation to walk abroad in daylight and to suspend any other church traditions that may conflict with your duties in the service of the archmage, so long as they do not violate specific temple laws. This dispensation shall be in effect until you and the Archmage Abernathy together agree that your service to him has finished; until then, the High Priestess prefers that you remain based in Tal Hae and follow the archmage’s instructions.
    Morningstar, I know this will be a difficult transition for you, but we all must do as Ell demands, and the High Priestess Rhiavonne speaks with Her voice on this matter. We will miss you at the temple.
    May the Goddess guide you,
    Sister Fithawn
     
    The blood pounded in Morningstar’s ears. Her skin prickled. Her eyes swept over the letter, two times, three times.
    …walk abroad in daylight…
    …suspend any other church traditions…
    …High Priestess Rhiavonne speaks with Her voice…
    “No,” she whispered. “They wouldn’t…”
    “Wouldn’t do what, dear?” asked Mrs. Horn. Morningstar raised her head; the others were looking at her expectantly.
    “I…they…”
    How could she explain it? Though her sisters didn’t like her, or were scared of her, the Ellish temple was her identity, her lifeblood, her foundation. We will miss you at the temple, Fithawn had written. But what had been left unwritten was …because you will not be welcomed back. How could she be, if she walked beneath the sun?
    This was going to confirm every suspicion that had ever been leveled at her, that she was not truly a sister, that she had no place in the black halls of Ell, that