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My father was murdered.
Soraya could still see Tishva's decapitated head falling to the deck of Zinvi's ship within her mind's eye. The warm gleam behind his grayish-blue eyes had disappeared like light from a doused lamp, never to be relit again.
The teenager was about to tell the truth to the old man but caught Jonathan's stare boring into her from behind his blood-red sunglasses.
Right, don't give away information to someone we hardly know.
"I don't know where my father is," she lied to the stranger. "He's been missing for awhile."
The hope in the elderly man's face faltered at the news.
"Hopefully he can be found soon," he said, his scratchy voice solemn. "I'm assuming you read my letters then? Is that what brought you here?"
Soraya's heartbeat quickened.
"That was you who wrote them? You know about Mül-"
The old man brought a skeletal finger to his thin lips. Soraya caught on and lowered her voice.
"We must speak in private," the elderly stranger replied, a smile growing on his weathered face. "I ask that you, my dear, please follow me."
Jonathan and Valor immediately flanked both sides of Soraya, their piercing gazes studying the man with scrutiny.
"We're coming too," Marlot said, his voice dangerously low and powerful like a wave forming on the ocean.
The old man's smile did not falter. Instead, he simply gave a curt nod and turned on his heels, heading back the way he had came.
"Guards, they're all with me," the man said, extending his hands out as if he were pushing them away despite not touching them.
The men in armor bowed and moved, staying silent but for a few soft clinks of metal.
Just who is this guy? Soraya wondered as she cautiously trailed behind the hobbling man. How does he know about Mülock? What else does he know? And why do I feel like I've met him before?
The doorway the group passed under led into another gigantic and elegant room. The ceiling stretched far above them, but this one was painted to look like a sunrise hidden behind clouds. Tall stained-glass windows decorated the golden walls, their multicolored designs illuminating the floor and slowly moving with the sun's rays. The room was deathly quiet, just like the rest of the island. One could hear dust settling in on the wooden furniture lining the walls.
"Here we are," the old man announced as he stopped in front of a closed set of double doors. He pressed a button jutting out from the wall, and the arrow hanging above swiveled counter clockwise, pointing at numbers as it did.
It's an elevator, Soraya realized once the doors slid into the wall, revealing a small empty room.
"This way," the man beckoned once he stepped inside.
