Skein of Shadows Read Online Free Page B

escort and was being held on Baron Breven’s private airship, which was docked at the nearby tower. Considering that the crew of the
Barony
was fiercely loyal to Breven, down to the Lyrandar who piloted it, Sabira wasn’t entirely sure he’d be making it back, Kundarak guards or no.
    When no one else responded, none of the Deneiths willing to state the obvious in front of Wilhelm, whose face was white with grief, Aggar finally spoke up.
    “It’s been almost two weeks, then. What reason is thereto believe she’s even still alive?”
    Breven cast a glance at the Count, and Sabira thought she caught a glimpse of something suspiciously like sympathy there. He carefully avoided looking at her.
    “After Leoned died and we were unable to recover his remains from that cave-in, Tilde created a sort of reverse summoning spell to return her body to my study in Sentinel Tower in the event of her death. She didn’t want Wilhelm to have to suffer that same uncertainty twice.”
    Elix’s hand closed over Sabira’s beneath the table. She didn’t dare look at him for fear of releasing the tears that burned suddenly behind her eyes, but she returned his grasp with a grateful squeeze.
    “So you want to send in another party to do what, exactly?” she asked when she could be sure her voice wouldn’t break. “Rescue her? Or put her out of her misery?”
    Wilhelm blanched at her words and even Elix looked appalled, but Breven didn’t blink.
    “As your hearthbrother said, it’s been almost two weeks.”
    Twelve days, and at least twice that to get another group back down to the city of the so-called Spinner of Shadows. If Tilde wasn’t dead by then, she’d no doubt wish she were.
    Which didn’t explain why Breven wanted to send someone after her in the first place. Tilde was a powerful sorceress and a family friend, but neither of those was reason enough for Breven to risk another thirty men, regardless of what torture she might be enduring. She hadn’t had access to any great House secrets; she wasn’t technically part of the House at all.
    “Two weeks in which your precious artifact has been sitting there for anyone to take, now that Tilde’s openedat least one of its locks, you mean.” Breven’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, and Sabira knew that she was right. This wasn’t about Tilde at all.
    But then why was he here? He hadn’t needed to play messenger boy with Tilde’s medallion—any of his lackeys from Sentinel Tower could have brought Wilhelm the news of her loss.
    No, the House patriarch wanted something specific from someone in this room, and Sabira had a sinking feeling it was her.
    Elix had come to the same conclusion.
    “You mentioned that you became aware of this artifact because of some snippet of the Prophecy the Wayfinder Foundation had recovered,” he said. “What exactly did that snippet say?”
    The draconic Prophecy was an ages-old pattern of portents and omens written in the skies, in the earth, and on the very flesh of the races of Eberron, in the form of the dragonmarks borne by the great Houses. The dragons of distant Argonnessen purported to study these signs to determine the future and understand the past, but Sabira put little stock in such things. Prophecy of any sort was so subject to interpretation that it could mean anything to anyone, and so became little more than an excuse for people to do what they wanted under the aegis of divine or mystical guidance. As far as she was concerned, the draconic Prophecy was no different, save for the fact that dragons were more able than most to ensure that their interpretations were accepted and adhered to.
    Breven regarded Elix for a moment, considering.
    “It’s not even a snippet, really. Just a few incompletecouplets found on a tattered parchment, most of which had either rotted or been burned away.”
    Elix and the others looked at him expectantly.
    The Baron gave a half-shrug and dutifully recited:
    “Far beneath the clawing