Champion Kevintor Neverloss's Arc

Chapter 41 of 42

Astella walked him off the training stones and through a side gate Kevintor had not seen before. A short path led to a low building with a carved awning and lamps already lit behind the curtains. She pushed the door open and waved him in. The room inside was small. Cushions ringed a low table. A tall hookah stood at its center, the glass base catching the lamp light, a coiled hose laid across the brass tray. She closed the door, set the leather book on the table, and sat across from him with the blade still under her sash. She lit the coal and drew on the hose. Pale smoke rolled from her mouth and hung between them. "The book," she said. "Open it. Show me the circled name." Kevintor put his hand flat on the cover. He had carried the book all morning without reading it. He could see the shape of the carved letters on the altar panel in his head, but not the name itself. The carving had been worn and the light bad. He needed the page beside the memory to be sure. "I can't read it without the altar in front of me," he said. "I can match it. I can't recall it cold." Astella set the hose down. "Then match it to me." She reached under the table and lifted a flat stone the size of a plate. A panel was cut into its face. The carving was clean. She had a copy. Kevintor stared at it. "You had this the whole time." "I have rubbings of every altar within three days' ride," she said. "Open the book." He opened the book and turned to the page with the red circle. He laid the stone beside it. The carved name and the inked name were the same. He read it once, then again, to be sure his eyes were not lying. It was a name he knew. A man who had sat at Astella's table the night she gave him the scroll. One of her own. He looked up. Astella drew on the hose again and watched him through the smoke. She did not look surprised. "You knew," Kevintor said. "I suspected," she said. "Now I know." She closed the book and slid it under her arm. "He leaves my service tonight. You go after him at dawn. The seventh art opens for the man whose name is on that altar, or for the man who kills him at it. Choose on the road." She stood. The smoke curled up past the lamps. Kevintor had the name. He had lost the book. He had a target and a day to reach the altar before the named man ran or died by another hand.