Her open journal and quill had been kicked against the wall on the door's other side—and the scroll as well. Fortunately no one had stepped on it amid the conflict. She went cold at the sight of ink all over the floor stones, for her small bottle had been kicked under the bed. But the splash of black hadn't traveled to the other items.
By the time Wynn looked up, in no more than a blink, il'Sänke had already followed her gaze. He leaned down and picked up the scroll, frowning suspiciously at its blackened surface.
"Is this what it came for?" he whispered.
"It is mine," Chane rasped, reaching out. "I will take it and go."
"I do not recall dismissing you," il'Sänke replied, though he didn't even look at Wynn's secret guest.
Wynn silently shook her head at Chane, and he held his place. She glanced down at his hand. The ring was there again on his left hand—it hadn't been when she'd looked for it with mantic sight. And she couldn't remember seeing him put it back on, let alone having taken it off.
Il'Sänke's gaze shifted to the journal and quill. He picked up the former, holding it open atop the scroll, and then his scrutiny returned to Chane.
That intense gaze made Chane fidget, and Wynn almost lunged when his grip tightened on his sword.
Il'Sänke cocked his head and frowned.
A strange instant of wary uncertainty washed over his dark features, as if he'd tried to read something in Chane's face and couldn't.
"We need him," Wynn repeated. "That thing came inside the guild. Maybe it has done so before… since no one could've stopped it. The three of us are the only ones who even believe it exists. We can't afford to turn on one another if we're to seek the truth and a way to destroy it."
"You are leaping to conclusions," il'Sänke said. "After last night it could have simply been attacking you, as obviously this scroll is unreadable, except…"
He bent his head, peering down at the journal.
"What is this?" he asked—like a parent's accusation, who already knew what trouble a child had gotten into.
"A copy," Wynn answered. "But only what I could make out from the scroll—"
"— with your sight," he finished for her, and then he turned to Chane. "So… bearer, where did you get this scroll?"
Cold mistrust showed on Chane's burned features.
"From the same library where I found the ancient texts," Wynn answered.
"Wynn!" Chane hissed.
"We cannot solve this alone!" she hissed back. "He needs to know everything."
And she turned back to il'Sänke.
"There is a poem under the coating, penned by one of the ancient undead among the trio who wrote the texts I brought back. I haven't been sure who to trust in this—but we must protect the guild and the texts. If I tell you everything we have learned, will you help us?"
Il'Sänke remained expressionless, but he tilted the staff's crystal toward Chane.
Chane instinctively flinched away.
"Who is he?" the doman asked.
"I've known Chane for some time," she answered. "He often came to our little branch in Bela, studying with myself and Domin Tilswith. He reads several languages from his region and has an interest in history. He… he knows a good deal about the undead."
"I can imagine," il'Sänke said drily.
Wynn's heart began hammering. How much had Domin il'Sänke already guessed concerning Chane? And the way the domin had tilted that staff suggested much.
"I should not stay," Chane said. "There will be questions if I am discovered. I came only to ensure Wynn's safety."
Domin il'Sänke snorted once and spoke only to Wynn. "He is correct about questions—but you cannot stay here alone. Both of you will come with me—now. I will take him out the library window, atop the wall."
Wynn gaped. He knew how she'd been getting out. But they would be seen if il'Sänke took Chane through the keep.
"No one will see us," he said. "I'm shure I can be quite as sneaky as you. But I will keep the scroll for now."
"No!" Chane rasped, raising his sword.
As Shade snarled, Wynn rushed in and grabbed Chane's forearm. She didn't fully understand why, but it was clear how much the scroll meant to him. Yet il'Sänke might be the only one who could read the ancient Sumanese that she'd blindly copied from the scroll.
"Let him keep it," she told Chane. "He's not like the other domins here. He won't lay claim to it. And even you shouldn't walk alone tonight while carrying it."
"Especially since you already look rather a mess," il'Sänke added.
Chane glanced down at Wynn. With a glower he reluctantly let her pull his sword arm down.
"And you had best take these," il'Sänke said to Wynn, taking out the strange glasses he'd been wearing. "At least until you learn to control the crystal's intensity. Your mantic sight will be all you have left… if you stupidly blind yourself."
Wynn snatched the glasses from him, feeling less than grateful. "What was I supposed to do? You weren't here."
"I am not the one drawing so much attention to myself," he countered, and turned for the door.
With a quick glance in the outer passage, Domin il'Sänke ushered them all out. Wynn went last, with Shade beside her. They paused at the door to the courtyard. When il'Sänke nodded that all was clear, they slipped across to the main doors and back inside the keep, heading for the library. He led them the same way by which they'd come in, yet another disturbing coincidence that bothered Wynn.
When they reached the library's first floor, il'Sänke had them wait while he scouted ahead. By the glow of perpetual cold lamps, Chane turned to Wynn, and the burns on his cheek looked orange in the soft light.
"I will help," he said. "I want to protect… the guild."
"I know," she answered, but she wouldn't give him more encouragement than this. She could never let him hope for anything beyond ending the current crisis.
Domin il'Sänke reappeared and took Chane upstairs.
Wynn dropped on a bench near a study table, wondering how il'Sänke would get Chane out without being seen by Rodian's men. Or perhaps Chane would simply scale down the wall with his rope.
She badly wanted to pet Shade, seeking comfort in a companion still so new to her, but her thoughts kept turning to Chane. She had to be careful. Any memories picked up by Shade might make it impossible for the dog to fight alongside him again. And she needed them both for now.
After trotting some distance along the wall's top, Ghassan led the way down the stairs into the fallow orchard below the southern tower. He paused there, holding back a hand to keep Wynn's «savior» from stepping past him.
Chane was in no condition to be scaling walls or possibly calling attention to himself if he fell. It was simple enough to fill the guards' minds with the notion of something skulking near the keep's northern tower. Yet even as they took off on an erroneous search, Ghassan was still disturbed.
Not by the strange marred and burned appearance of this one called Chane. More than that, he had not caught the slightest conscious thought in the man's head. He had tried in Wynn's room.
Unlike during the duchess's visit with her entourage, when he had picked up only something akin to a voice muffled inside a closed room, he could not find Chane's thoughts at all. As if the man were not there.
When the guards were gone he waved Chane on. He received not a word in response as the man jogged off through the gate.
Il'Sänke returned to the library's first floor and found Wynn slouched upon a bench with the majay-hì at her feet. On spotting him, she straightened and stood up.
"Come, you will sleep in the northwest building," he said, "in the study outside my guest quarters. It is more… protected."
She frowned, then nodded, as perhaps the prospect of sleeping alone in her room did seem unappealing. He led the way back through to the main doors and, once outside, cut across the courtyard. Entering through the storage building, they headed along a hallway that passed through the keep's outer wall and into the newer building beyond. On the ground floor they passed the area where he spent time among this branch's metaologers. When he glanced over his shoulder, Wynn was peering through a wide archway on the left. He knew what she saw inside.