Shadow Honor - Book 1 of The Trial

Shadow Honor - 16

She was the perfect image of ageless beauty. Her hair and clothing were simple, but immaculately clean. The thin silver band that held her hair back from her face shone with an unnatural brilliance, as if brighter than it should, in order to earn its place upon her brow. Her skin sparkled like a bed of diamonds, and as she placed her hands upon the wounded side of the man lying before her the light seemed to follow her, catching every last sparkle as it danced upon her flesh.

The man who lay upon the altar before her began to convulse as she worked her art. Every second that passed was an eternity for those who stood by, holding their breath as they looked on in wonder, not knowing if the man would survive the process. The spectators exhaled as one when she finally took her hands away, and only when she spoke did they realize that she had been successful. "Prism, dear Prism, you're always on the brink of death," she whispered sweetly. "When will you learn that death doesn't want you?"

"Veil," Prism replied, without opening his eyes, smiling pleasantly at the woman above him. "I have not heard your lovely voice in far too long."

"I imagine it has been far longer for me than it has for you. You were trapped in a pillar with a demon," Veil observed with a wry smile, "weren't you?"

"Yes, I was," Prism answered as he opened his eyes in surprise. "How did you know?"

"I've not earned the title of Oracle without reason," she replied with a quiet chuckle. "I can still put patterns together. A pillar disappears and you suddenly reappear. I don't believe that was a coincidence."

"No, I suppose not," Prism conceded with a slight nod. Smiling more broadly than before, he added, "It is wonderful to see you."

"We thought you had left with my brother to hunt the Vhor," she explained as she stroked his face gently. "But he told us that you had done nothing of the sort when we crossed paths later."

"I'm sure he did," Prism confirmed. "The last I saw of him before yesterday was when we all met before the battle." His smile turned sad as he added, "He is still on the trail."

"Then you have seen him more recently than I," Veil stated with her lips scrunched to one side. "How was he?"

Prism sat up from the altar and shrugged. "Not as good as he could be, but better than he has been."

"To any other person that wouldn't make any sense," Veil replied, laughing openly.

"I suppose I know you too well, Veil," Prism replied with a grin. Then to the shock of everyone in the room, he embraced her. Though she was initially caught off guard by the action, she returned the embrace after a moment and hugged him tightly.

One of Veil's guards drew his sword and took an outraged step toward Prism. "How dare you treat the Oracle like . . .?" He began, but was halted in his words and his movement by an upraised hand from Veil.

"There's no need for that. Prism is an old friend," she said firmly. With an air of supreme authority she chided, "If you had paid any attention to the history books, you would have known that Grandmaster Prism served with King Neredos and me during the Demon War. Without him we would have never succeeded."

"I'm sorry, Oracle," the guard apologized, sheathing his weapon immediately. He bowed low and backed away as he said, "Please excuse my rudeness."

"It is quite all right. Thank you for your concern," Veil said sweetly. When the guard bowed again she turned to Alsha, surprising the Knight by addressing her, "You are Lady Alsha Tremlain, a Commander of the Inquisitor branch of the Knights of the Firmament, correct?"