Shadow of the Avatar

Chapter 12 -- The Dragon Mouse

Lore is the door that opens into new vistas for the mind. Knowledge and ingenuity are the context and the keys that turn abstract theories into brilliant innovation.

--Cassandra

Wren froze on the tower steps. Past Cassandra and the light coming from her staff the stairs curved down into darkness. The air here in the stairwell suddenly seemed cold. The gold-skinned mage had said only one word. No inflection, a simple flat statement. Even her face gave nothing away. Precisely? Precisely what?

The ominous connotations made Wren shiver. "Wait. I came here to find Desiray. It's her job to free the guild."

"Oh hush." Cassandra shooed away Wren's protest like she might an irritating bug. "Follow."

Wren felt the pull of the same force that had grabbed her at the window. "I can't fight the entire Dagger guild!"

"That will be Desiray's job. Yours is Hethanon."

The sense of dread at the Guildhall came back to Wren in a rush; the screams of people dying, the blood, the priest leering at her. She had hoped to keep her promise to Grahm, somehow do as he asked, be free, grow--look for him down the path. Cassandra seemed to have other ideas.

Many circuits later they reached the bottom of the tower. Another portal sighed open at Cassandra's whim. Beyond lay the interior of the manse Wren saw from the outside. Torches lit the interior, making the polished marble floors gleam with a flickering orange glow. Looking like waterfalls in reverse, intricately carved arches flowed out of the floors and mingled with the arched ceilings. Paintings of unfamiliar landscapes, romantic and heroic statuary, and tapestries from the first and second empires decorated every open space and corner. One common theme ran through everything visible; mirrors. Everywhere--mirrors. Could anyone be that vain? The reflective surfaces were disguised but nowhere Wren looked did more than ten paces of wall pass without a mirror being made into a column, frame, or arch. Conceit seemed far too demeaning for a woman like Cassandra. That and she never once even glanced at one of the shiny reflections. Wren wanted to ask about it but other concerns were more pressing.

Cassandra went on. "I will make you a deal; one you should seriously consider."

"No deals," Wren said. "I got enough of Hethanon on the first encounter. You do it. Make sure it's done right."

Cassandra chuckled. Her laugh sounded musical, but Wren could tell the harp was strung with steel. "I plan to. That is why you will be my agent."

"No," Wren insisted. "Why can't you do it--personally?"

"Simple. I won't let Desiray do it. Dorian won't let me do it. That leaves you."

Wren swallowed. "Convenient I might be, but hardly your best choice."

Another door that looked like the opening of a vault opened and closed behind them with a boom. Shafts of steel as big around as Wren's leg drove home with a rasp. Where was Cassandra taking her?

Cassandra flicked a strand of hair away from her forehead. "I have my reasons. Listen to my deal."

Wren sighed and resigned herself.

"Do you know who your parents are, Wren?"

The question took her off guard. What did that have to do with anything? The question brought a tightness to her chest. "No, I don't remember before I escaped the temple of Hecate. Why?"

The mention of the name of Hecate made Cassandra stiffen. The edges of her black expressionless eyes softened. Her hand went to the phoenix hanging around Wren's neck. "Something I feel from you suggests your parents were quite special. If I am correct, what is impressed on this can help me learn more."