The Fading Dream by Keith Baker Page B

sea. But there had been travelers on the northern road on the Day of Mourning. The first caravan had been devoid of all signs of life, just like Seaside itself. Horses’ harnesses stood empty, coachmens’ uniforms caught in the seats or on withered branches. The second was perfectly preserved with no signs of cause of death or even fear on the faces of the travelers. Their eyes were still open, and they looked as if they’d be warm to the touch. They were simply frozen, caught halfway on a journey they’d never complete.
    “They aren’t my people,” Cadrel said. “They might have been once, but now they are creatures of theMournland. Who can explain the madness this place might bring?”
    “I can see how spending too much time here might drive you mad,” Thorn said, glancing at Drix. The tinker was whistling cheerfully, ignoring the conversation. “But that doesn’t explain the breacher. Or how Dal survived the first attack. Or how he got to Seaside before us. You anticipated the attack on the prince. So you must have known something.”
    “I told you. Angry words, the presence of the Fifth Crown … it was a danger, nothing more. I didn’t even realize that the Covenant of the Gray Mist was involved.”
    It’s possible he’s telling the truth
, Steel whispered.
But it seems unlikely. He’s supposed to be Oargev’s eyes and ears
.
    “Tell me something I don’t know,” Thorn said, addressing Steel and Cadrel at the same time. “When was the last time you had a report from the Covenant?”
    “To be honest—”
    “Are you sure this is the right time for that?” Thorn said.
    Cadrel sighed. “My dear, we may be allies this month, but we both know that there can only be one king of Galifar, and if you’re being honest with yourself, you know who that should be. You serve your king. I serve mine.”
    “Does there really have to be a king of Galifar?” Drix yelled back.
    “Yes,” Thorn told him. “We fought a war about it. Perhaps you remember.”
    “Oh. That’s what we were fighting about? Are you sure?”
    Thorn sighed. “Master Cadrel, I believe you were about to be honest with me, which would be a refreshing change. When was the last time you had a report from the Covenant?”
    “They never reported to me,” Cadrel said. “The Covenant was handpicked by the prince and reported to him directly. I remember when Cazalan Dal was chosen, and I remember seeing him at New Cyre once or twice. But they always found their way to the prince without me; I heard their news from him.”
    “Why would they avoid you?”
    “I don’t think they were avoiding
me
as such,” Cadrel said. “You saw the situation in New Cyre. Today I may be Oargev’s closest confidant. But he’s had quite a few favorites over the years, some more trustworthy than others. I think the agents of the Covenant consider themselves to be the direct servants of the Cyran crown and consider any intermediary to be beneath their notice.”
    “Servants who now see fit to destroy that crown.”
    “Which brings us back to madness.”
    “I think it’s going to rain,” Drix called back. A faint roll of thunder followed his words.
    “They’re well organized for madmen,” Thorn told Cadrel. “And I’d like to find out how they knew we’d make landfall at Seaside when we never planned on it. I hope you’re being honest with me, Cadrel.”
    Cadrel spread his hands. “I am as transparent as glass, my dear.”
    “Perhaps you weren’t listening,” Drix said again. “Rain.”
    Something in his tone gave Thorn pause. “You’re wearing a cloak, Drix.”
    “Yes, but it’s—oh. You don’t know.”
    Cadrel heard the fear. “What is it, lad?”
    “The rain … it’s dangerous.”
    “I don’t understand,” Cadrel said. “It burns? How bad is it?”
    “You know in Seaside? The way the clothes were left behind, but no bodies?”
    “What about it?” Thorn was afraid she already knew the answer.
    “That’s because it