Soul Seeker

36: Sun Chaser

That night, she barely slept.

It turned out the price of a bed in the Protectorate was extortionate, so they piled into one room and slept in their sleeping bags, missing the soft snow mattress of the outside world which they had become so accustomed to. Tossing and turning, squashed between Isa and Tonraq, Ciara switched between anxiety over Sköll and nervousness about the upcoming meeting.

What if she never saw Sköll again? There had been some kind of connection between them, she couldn't have been making it up, so surely the world and the guardians which ruled it would never let him slip from her life without so much as a goodbye...

Once they presented Hati to the Baron, the situation would be entirely out of their control and they would not be able to predict how anyone else would react. If things went wrong...

"Go to sleep," Tonraq whispered.

"Are you asleep?"

"No. Not with you shuffling about."

"Sorry. I can't get comfortable."

"Neither can I."

In the dark, she found his hand and gripped it tightly.

"Your fingers are hot," he breathed.

"Sorry."

"No, it's a good thing. You still have control. That's good."

Far from making her feel better, her heart weighed heavier in her chest. As Embla, what was the correct thing to do? What was her place in all this? She and Sebastian had forced the others to go along with this whole idea of bringing Hati to justice, and she was the one with the age-old soul, it was her responsibility if everything failed – if Hati rejected the humans he believed had wronged him...

If Darius were here, what would he do?

Ciara realised she was crushing Tonraq's fingers. She let go and burrowed deep into her sleeping bag, filled with dread.

*

"You look like you're going to be sick," Fell said the next morning.

Ciara did not trust herself to open her mouth to answer.

Isa led the way into the Baron's chamber. "Let's go and get this over with."

They stated their business to the guards, who led them past the receiving hall and down a long, wide corridor. They had left the dogs and sleds where they would be safe in the kennels, so Fell and Sebastian dragged the sealed trailer containing Hati behind them.

There was no sign of Sköll. Ciara found herself scanning every dark corner, every doorway, for him. Her stomach twisted.

Finally, they reached a large room where an elaborately-dressed goateed man awaited them.

"You must be the hunters from the north," he said, "the ones one of the Suzerain's own guardsmen recommended. He insisted that you would not waste my time. Come, follow me. My assembly has gathered."

The room was dominated by a table shaped like a crescent moon, at which almost a dozen people were sat. The Baron took the largest chair in the centre, but the rest of the assembly barely looked up. Some chatted amongst themselves while others poured decanters of wine.

Wine. They were drinking? At this time?

Most distracting of all, on the far end of the table a woman sat at a mill wheel-like contraption, where books were opened on wooden slats. She poured over these tomes, moving the wheel to look at each in turn so that it constantly creaked as the shelves levelled the books out.