Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #14 May 2015 | Page 45

Abrodail looked at him in silent confusion when he
rejoined her. He shrugged as he polished off the pie
in a few bites.
“What? I’m hungry and you didn’t offer dinner.”
Ignoring the roll of her eyes, he pointed along the
hall. “Where’s Favriel’s office?”
She guided him down several more halls and up
two flights of stairs. He held her back at one juncture when footsteps alerted him, and they remained
tucked around a corner until the sound faded into
nothing. At last, climbing several more flights, she
entered a dark room where a low fire waged a losing battle against the shadows.
Taking down a poker, she stoked the flames brighter to reveal a long, low chamber full of desks and
bookshelves. Halfway down, a pair of smoke-glass
doors led out onto a small balcony.
“This is where Favriel and the other stewards convene during the day,” she said, staring into the fire.
“We shouldn’t be disturbed.”
Khellus paced the length of the chamber and back,
ensuring no steward had decided to sleep over in
one of the corners or under a desk. Scrolls and
tomes of all sizes and ages lined the shelves in orderly bundles and stacks, and a sharp odour of fresh
ink tickled his nose.
He opened the balcony doors and gazed out. The
balcony faced inward over the estate, gi ٥