KORTOI
Hoatan coughed again, then wiped his nose, removing the stain of black snot there. “What?” he croaked.
At the mention of the pilot, Hoatan sat up, fully alert. “What? Essa’s Charlie? The Silver Wraith? I thought he was dead.”
“A vampyre… and he’s here?” Hoatan shook his head, setting his jowls flapping. “This is ill news.”
The Torouman grunted. “Well… Essa does care about him. Or she did, at any rate. That means he can be leveraged.”
“Now you’re talking,” Kortoi said. He reached out and absently drew a few runes on the face of the water.
“I don’t like vampyres,” Hoatan admitted. “But it’s Essa I worry about. Her sense of duty may be strong, but she won’t go into the bydrune quietly. Mark my words: she has something planned. Escape. Insurrection. Something.”
Kortoi chuckled. “Oh, she does, most assuredly.”
The Torouman’s eyes narrowed. “Do you know what it is?”
“I’ve heard things…” Kortoi flashed a smug grin.
“And you’re not concerned?”
“As I said, a clever person can turn anything to his advantage,” Kortoi said. “And we are clever, are we not?”
“Of course,” Hoatan rumbled. “But only one of us clever fellows knows what the princess is up to. Care to share?”
Kortoi lifted his hand, watching the water droplets fall from his fingers back into the basin.
It made him think of one of the scriptures.
The entirety of the void could dwell in a single drop of water.
In the same way, the fate of the entire kingdom and the world could hinge on the actions of a single one-armed girl. It was remarkable, actually...
Did Kortoi know what Essa was up to? Of course he did. Was he going to tell Hoatan?
“I think I’d rather it be a surprise,” he said.
Hoatan grunted, annoyed. Kortoi had sensed the Torouman resisting the allure of his pipe all this time.
Now, Hoatan brought the thing to his mouth again and sparked an Admite match.
He touched the flame to the bowl, and inhaled deeply, then sputtered and choked, belching out a puff of dark, purplish smoke.
He coughed so hard that he nearly fell out of his chair, but when he sat up again, he was smiling.
“All the gods, that’s some wicked stuff,” he said, setting the pipe aside. But even as it sat on the table an arm’s length away, his eyes kept drifting back to it. “So you want to be coy about Essaphine; fine. What shall we do about this Admite vampyre in our midst?”
Kortoi pursed his lips. “Well, as I said, he’s been repelled for now. But he didn’t come all this way to quit that easily. He’ll try to get into Charcain again.”
“And when he does?” Hoatan demanded.
“When he does,” the Prelate smiled. “We’ll be there to welcome him.”