Hrin nodded curtly. He and his fellow priests stood around for a moment, embarrassed.
"His heart will fail him in five hundred thirty-two days," Sephris muttered as he watched Hrin walk away. He came back to himself and said to Cale and his comrades, "Follow me."
The loremaster led them away from the priests, into the worship hall, and through one of several doors that lined the walls. He did not speak as they went. They walked dim, windowless corridors lined with framed maps until they came to a small conference room. A large slate hung from one of the walls and five chairs sat around a rectangular table set before it. A shelf against one wall held sheaves of papers and bound scrolls. Sunlight leaked through a small window to provide light. Cale avoided the beams.
"Sit," Sephris ordered, and they did. The loremaster did not sit; instead, he went to the slate on the wall, took a piece of chalk in his hand, looked at it, and . . . closed his fist over it without writing anything. He turned to the table and looked at Jak, at Magadon, at Cale. His eyes were not friendly.
"Darkness follows you three with the certainty that night follows day. A storm dogs you all. Do you sense it?"
"You do not even know me, priest," Magadon said.
Sephris laughed, a barking, derisive sound. "No. But I know of you."
"You are mistaken," Magadon said.
Sephris grinned evilly and said, "Would you like a number, Magadon devilspawn? There are Nine Hells. Your father rules-"
"You close your mouth," Magadon said, flushing red. He rose from his chair, his pale eyes ablaze. The guide's hands were fists.
Cale put a hand on Magadon's arm to calm him.
"Who is he, to speak of me?" Magadon said angrily to Cale, but sat back down at Cale's and Jak's urging.
"I am a dutiful servant of my god, devilspawn," Sephris said, his tone bitter. "Nothing more. But nothing less. You have come, so you must listen."
"What have they done to you, Sephris?" asked Jak. "You are . .. bitter."
"They've done naught but what you did, Jak Fleet," Sephris answered. "Use me for your own ends, as you hope to now."
Cale understood it then, and the words came out before he could stop them.
"You did not want to come back."
Sephris stared at Cale for a moment, then slammed the chalk against the slate so hard it splintered in his grasp.
"Of course I did not want to come back! Bitter?" He glared at the little man. "I have every right to be bitter, Jak Fleet. What once was a gift is now a curse. My mind is filled with numbers and formulae, whether I am awake or asleep. The seven words you just spoke, the number of buttons on your tunic, the number of steps it takes me to reach the market, the number of worshipers in the hall, the number of priests in this .. . prison." He looked at the three companions. "Numbers haunt me. Answers torment me. Do you see, mindmage?" he spat at Magadon. "That is who I am and why I speak to you of your lineage. I know. There is no rest for me except in death, and even that is denied me."
Sephris stopped, took a deep breath, and gathered himself.
Jak and Magadon stared at him, too dumbfounded to speak.
"But my wants in this matter are secondary, First of Five," Sephris said softly to Cale. "And two and two are and always shall be four. What is, is."
Cale could think of nothing to say. Sephris had allowed himself to return from the dead when his high priest had called because he had thought it his duty as a priest, as a Chosen. The latter realization made Cale squirm in his chair. But he reminded himself that he had made no promises to the Shadowlord.
Sephris smiled at him, then asked in a conspiratorial tone, "You see it, don't you?" The smile was not friendly. "It is an ugly truth, what we bear. What you will bear is uglier than most. Prepare yourself."
Cale decided to let the reference to "we" pass. Instead, he said, "You know why we've come, Sephris. Tell us what we want to know and we will leave you be."
Sephris replied, "Of course I know why you've come. Do you?"
Cale shook his head. "I do not understand."
"You are a variable in a larger equation. I am looking through you, through all of you, trying to solve for the darkness behind you." After a pause, he added, "In all permutations one thing always occurs: Many will die because of you, First of Five."
Cale's skin went gooseflesh. He could not look at Magadon or Jak, not then.
"You do not know that," he said to Sephris, and his words sounded empty even to him.
"Do I not?" asked the loremaster.
"Then help us," Jak said to Sephris. "We don't want that to happen."
"Wants are secondary," Sephris said with a nasty smirk.
Cale could take no more of Sephris's self-pity and deliberate obfuscation. He stared daggers at the loremaster.
"Help me stop it, old fool. If knowledge is your curse, then tell me what you know. If there are permutations, then we can control outcomes. Stop the cryptic clues and tell me what I need to know."
"Being cryptic is my lot," Sephris answered in an infuriatingly calm tone. "Have you not noticed? And control is an illusion. Is that how you sleep, First?"
Cale ground his teeth and barely contained an expletive. Shadows poured from his flesh. The room dimmed.
"And so it begins," Sephris said softly.
The door to the conference chamber flew open and Veen appeared, backed by three more priests. The Oghmanytes must have been scrying the chamber or watching through a peephole.
"Is all well, Chosen One?" Veen asked.
Sephris chuckled, waved a hand, and said, "As well as it gets, Veen. Begone."
Veen eyed each of the three comrades.
"Do not tax the loremaster with your questions. We will be nearby." He closed the door.
Cale's anger went out the door with Veen. He just felt . . . tired. He sensed a doom overtaking him and he was too fatigued to outrun it.
"Let's leave here," Magadon said to him. "This is futile. And he is mad."
"You won't help us, Sephris?" Jak said, obviously hurt.
Sephris glared at Jak. "Jak Fleet. My friend. A seventeen going on a two. Of course I will help you." He looked up to the ceiling and said in a loud voice, "For I am a dutiful servant of the Binder!"
"We don't need your help," Cale said, and stood. "And I don't want it."
Sephris chuckled. "As I said: Wants are secondary."