Syrynn sprints up the stairs, taking two at a time, halberd in hand; he had heard a shriek on his patrol and is trying to locate the source as soon as possible. He rounds the corner, immediately spotting the corpse of a man well along into decomposition with High Priestess Seliani and Morziwayn on the ground behind it.

  Eue-Lysae locks eyes with Syrynn. “Syrynn, who is the fool at the gate?” She demands as she staggers to her feet, hand on her ear, and makes her way over to Morziwayn, air whistling through her teeth as she takes shallow, quick breaths, clearly in pain.

  “The new guy—N?syr.“ His eyes scan the scene before him, trying to figure out what had happened. “What has happened here, High Priestess?”

  “The man—” Making sure not to look at it, she gestures to the corpse, which has already started to liquify. “tried to kill Morziwayn and I.” She carefully takes Morziwayn’s arm and tries to place it back in the sling, only to get hushed curses and a swatting motion in response. She lets the arm down slowly; the fracture has now gotten worse. “Blow your whistle; get me N?syr; have this cleaned once the others are here; have a carriage readied; I will be taking Morziwayn to see Franheska.”

  Syrynn obliges and blows his whistle, not wanting the ire of High Priestess Seliani.

  Eue-Lysae helps Morziwayn to her feet and carefully—as to avoid the wooden fragments on the floor—walks her to the couches in the common room. She returns to the hall to wait for the rest of the Watchmen to arrive.

  After about two minutes of waiting, she can hear some of her coven from the stairwell, arguing with Syrynn about why they cannot go upstairs. The complaints grow louder as the Watchmen are allowed through.

  The Watchmen stop at the top of the stairs, Klyas grimacing at what was left of Ill?c.

  “N?syr, tell me what happened; how did this man get far enough to chop my door down with an axe?” She takes a deep breath and focuses on the others. “Clean this up, and if any of my girls see it—I’ll flog you myself.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  The Watchmen hurriedly make their way to the body, knowing full well that the High Priestess was not threatening them.

  Breaking from the group, N?syr makes his way to the High Priestess. Behind him, the others discuss how to dispose of the body—usually when they have to deal with a body, it’s fresh and in, at most, three pieces, not in a mushy advanced stage of decomposition.

  N?syr, with a fleeting glance, looks at the body and determines, by the clothes, that it was the Ill?c Syrlwyr he had waved through at the gate not ten minutes prior. “I had stopped him at the gate. His name was Ill?c Syrlwyr. He had told me he was here looking for his daughter. It made sense; there are multiple handmaidens with the last name of Syrlwyr.”

  Eue-Lysae runs both of her hands down her face with a groan. “So how did he end up at my door?” She looks at him wide-eyed, gesturing at him with her hands as if to say, ‘Are you stupid?’.

  “I—I told him where to find you; I figured you would know where his daughter was.”

  “And you didn’t think of accompanying him, or having someone accompany him?”

  “No, I didn’t figure that he would be here with malicious intent; I figured he was just a father looking to visit his daughter.” N?syr scratches his head.

  “Figure hither, figure thither—” Tightly, she clenches her hands into fists; forearms shaking, she speaks through clenched teeth. “You should ‘figure’ out that your job is to guard me, not the College—me. If you send someone to come see me, whom I do not explicitly know—I can write you a list in dyed wax if you wish; in case you cannot ‘figure’ it out—you accompany them.”

  N?syr opens his mouth to respond but stops, trying to think of a way to respond without saying he figured. “I had never expected—”

  “Enough from you. If you speak again, be sure it is only to inform me when the carriage I requested is ready.” She turns from N?syr with a huff. Stupid, slow, useless, all of them; she’s only ever met one good one, and he slipped right through her fingers. She returns to the common room to attend to Morziwayn. Slamming the door behind her, she knocks off loose splinters.

  N?syr turns back to the group around the body and quietly asks. “Is she always like this?”

  “Sometimes—” says Gewykk, the Captain of the Watch, still focused on the body. “She’s noticeably worse from the 10th to the 16th of each maiden.” He turns to N?syr and begins to tie his shoulder-length black hair up. "But you have also demonstrated—just now and on other occasions in your short tenure here—that you are noticeably retarded; her reaction is warranted."