human
sacrifice, on top of Mayan temples, in Druidic torchlight rituals, in ancient
Egyptian rites and secret ceremonies in Restoration England. The very walls
seemed to throb with malevolence.
Wyrdrune simply stared at it with astonishment.
"You believe this?" Kira said. "Right out in the open, as if he didn't care
who
knew."
"He doesn't," Wyrdrune said, shaking his head.. "There's a level of arrogance
here that's frankly terrifying.
What does it matter what we know or what we think? We're only humans, after
all."
"Are we?" Kira said.
"What?"
"Are we still human?" she said. She glanced down at her palm, covered by the
fingerless black leather glove. "I mean, what the hell are you when you've
got
an enchanted runestone that's become a part of you, a stone that's animated
by
the souls of immortal archmages from the dawn of time?"
"Christ, at a time like this you start getting metaphysical on me?" Wyrdrune
said.
She looked up at him and grimaced. "Yeah, sounds more like something you'd
do,
huh? Come on, let's get the hell out of here and go find Modred. I think I
see
another stairway down at the end of the hall."
They went down the spiral stairs, passing some drunken party goers on their
way,
and came out in a small room at the side of the Great Hall. There was a bar
set
up in the corner, and a huge fireplace with a carved stone mantelpiece
against
the opposite wall. There was a large blond man in an ill-fitting leather
doublet
leaning on the mantelpiece, having a drink and talking to a pretty young
woman.
"Hey, isn't mat—" Kira asked.
"Our cabbie, Liam!" Wyrdrune said. "What the hell is he doing here?"
"Crashing the party, obviously," Kira said.
Wyrdrune rushed over to him. "Excuse me," he said to the young woman, "do you
mind if I have a word in private with my friend? It's about his wife and
kids."
She gave Liam a disgusted look and walked away.