"The night we found the monastery, Welstiel began shouting at the night sky. He must have believed he was being led to the castle, but that was not what we found. I think he broke with his… 'patron'… that night, after being tricked too many times. Whatever spoke to him, perhaps it decided to let Magiere find the orb without him. And she shares the nature of the Noble Dead."
Wynn studied him, perhaps wondering if he told the full truth. Chane's thoughts slipped back to the names she had spoken—and the black-robed figure hunting sages, folios, and her.
"Do you think one of these other old undead is the black-robed mage?" he asked. "Some ancient vampire, grown powerful over so much time?"
Wynn started slightly. "It's not a mage, but it is a Noble Dead."
"No… vampires are Noble Dead."
Wynn tiredly closed her eyes. "Not only vampires. There is something else… a wraith."
Before he could ask, she shook her head.
"It's the word I use for it, among older ones, though none of them may be accurate. Just something mentioned in old Numan folklore."
"Then it is not—"
"It feeds, Chane. It has to feed on life. And it is fully aware. Shade is convinced the black figure is a form of spirit."
Chane stared at the majay-hì, not quite grasping what she meant. By Wynn's words, this animal shared Chap's antagonism toward the undead. Much as that might add weight to Wynn's conclusion, it was not enough. How had she learned this from a dog?
"She's been hunting it, as much as watching over me," Wynn continued. "I don't understand everything yet, but on the way here I kept thinking of something I overheard in one of il'Sänke's seminars. Like the five Elements, the sages also divide all things in existence by the three Aspects—physical, mental, and spiritual."
Chane knew this concept by different terms, but it still did not explain her assumptions.
"A vampire is distinguished in nature from a mere raised corpse," she went on, "or anything in between those extremes… but they all are physical. So what is the difference? We both know from experience that ghosts exist, as well as other less-than-corporeal forms of the undead. But nonetheless, we've seen the dead come back… in spirit, as well as body."
Right then he wanted to deny her, for where she headed with her reasoning was too harsh and dangerous—especially for her well-being.
"It's fully aware and reasons," she whispered. "Even if it's a mage as well, then it has grown within its sense of self, as if it were still alive. And it has to feed… what else is that but a Noble Dead?"
Chane had no response, but this was not good at all. Uncertain as he was, he still trusted her intellect, as well educated as his own and then some. Caught between doubt and faith in her, which should he choose to follow?
And if she was right, how could he protect her from something he could not fight?
They still had no concrete idea what this creature—this wraith—was truly after, and they had not yet unlocked the secret of the scroll. Chane was not fanciful, but he could not help believing that the scroll had come into his possession for a reason. That the white undead had tried to show it to Wynn confirmed that instinct.
Whatever was hidden beneath the black coating might shape dangerous days ahead, and the future. At present he had no future.
"You said Li'kän wanted you to read the scroll to her," Chane began, "or perhaps just to read it yourself. I do not see why this forgotten Enemy would want or allow that, so our next step should be to solve its mystery."
Wynn looked at the floor. "I've been thinking the same thing."
"So how?"
Wynn hesitated a long while. "I might have a chance."
He stiffened. "You?"
"Do you remember when you found me at the smithy of Pudúrlatsat? You protected me from Vordana, and I was… in a state."
Yes, she had been sick, and, strangely, she could barely see.
"Just before, I attempted to give myself mantic sight via a thaumaturgical ritual—the ability to see elemental Spirit in all things."
Chane had never heard this before. "
Wynn stiffened. "Magiere needed to locate Vordana quickly—who, as you well know, was a sentient undead."
He fell silent.
"But my attempt went wrong," Wynn whispered.
"You failed?"
"No." She took a long breath. "I couldn't end it afterward. Chap had to do it for me, and that turned out to be temporary."
Chane shook his head. "How would seeing Spirit let you read the scroll's content?"
Wynn studied him for a moment. "Because with mantic sight, I also see the absence of Spirit in a Noble Dead. Spirit as in the Element, not the Aspect."
Again, Chane disliked where this was headed. He had suffered mishaps in his youth when first attempting conjury on his own with no tutor. One had left him bedridden for many days. The physician called by his mother had no idea what was wrong with him, nor why he had succumbed to a sudden burning fever that made his body seem to dry out and left him with an insatiable thirst.
