Heretic (The Sanctuary Series Book 7) Read Online Free Page A

between them, and Cyrus had often considered that very idea. At least I considered it back when the guild was growing, when we were ascendant. I haven’t had to think about that possibility in … quite some time.
    “Welcome to Sanctuary,” Cyrus said to Zarnn as he and his party came to a halt in front of Cyrus. Green faces looked down at him from a few feet above, the towering trolls putting his height to shame. “We’ll need to ask you some questions and have you put down your names on our parchment as we begin the process of having you apply to Sanctuary.”
    “All right,” Zarnn said, nodding once after gauging the response of his fellows behind him. “Good.”
    Cyrus and Vara exchanged a look. “Good,” Cyrus repeated, unsure what else to say.
    “No, not good at all,” Vaste said under his breath. “It’s only good until the shrieking, and the terror, and the murdering—”
    “Vaste will show you into the hall and start asking you some questions.” Cyrus smirked, sure that a look of horror was spreading across the healer’s face. “If you’ll follow him …”
    Cyrus stepped aside and the trolls sauntered forward toward Vaste, whose head was hung in obvious disappointment.
    “Right,” Vaste said, bringing his eyes up. “First thing I’m going to tell you about Sanctuary is that trolls get worked like dogs here, having to do all the unpleasant tasks. Also, there are no goats, so if that’s going to be a problem, best just leave now.” He waited a second, and when there was no response from his audience, he let out a small sigh and started toward the doors to the keep. “Fine. Follow me.”
    “This isn’t a mistake, is it?” Cyrus asked Vara as they watched the trolls following the smaller Vaste away. There was some grunting among them, and Cyrus saw Vaste look toward the heavens, as though expecting a lightning bolt to streak down and kill him. “Is Vaste right?”
    “Probably not,” Vara answered after a brief pause. “But …”
    Cyrus waited for her to finish. She did not. “But what?”
    “But the alternative is to trust no one, ever,” she said, seemingly stirred back to life by his words. “To hang tight to bonds of old friendship but never make new ones. To grow old, truly, and to watch those around you diminish with you, until you age out of life alone.” She glanced at him quickly and then looked away again. “I’m going to help Vaste get them situated.”
    “I’ll—” Cyrus started, but he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. The elven wizard who had come in with the trolls was now standing only feet away from him, leading his horse with one hand, the other outthrust, an envelope of yellowed parchment extended to Cyrus. “I’ll be along in a …” He took it from the wizard and spared only a glance to see Vara already wending her way toward the doors, not looking back at him for a response or anything else. “Who are you?” he asked the wizard.
    “Messenger, sir,” the wizard said primly, casting a baleful glance at the last of the trolls, now receding behind the gargantuan doors of the entry. “I brought this for you from Reikonos. It is a matter of great urgency, I was assured.”
    Cyrus looked at the envelope, crinkled in his hand. Cyrus Davidon was written across its front in a familiar hand. He caught the wax seal on an edge of his lobstered gauntlet and ripped it open, pulling out the missive within. The page crackled as he unfolded it, a flowery scent filling his nostrils as though set loose from the paper.
     
    Cyrus,
    I need to speak with you immediately. I would not write to you were it not a matter of the greatest urgency, and something only you can aid me with.
    Imina
     
    Cyrus blinked at the words then read them again. His eyes fell out of focus and then refocused on the messenger, whose lineless face watched him for reaction. “Who gave this to you?”
    “A young woman, human,” the elf said, adjusting the vestments that identified