Read The Grave Thief: Book Three of The Twilight Reign for Free Online Page B

within the Farlan can oppose the nobility. Though they are demanding to conduct Certinse’s trial, for a variety of reasons, Cardinal Veck doesn’t think he’s ever going to succeed. All he’s doing is gauging his support among the nobility. That the faultlessly devout Suzerain Torl has not voiced support for him has been noted by all interested parties.’
    ‘Prayer,’ Isak said, causing the man’s head to snap around from Lesarl to Isak, ‘can you tell us any more of the current mood among the clerics? I can’t help thinking that the longer Veck’s demands go on, the more people are likely to be swayed by his argument.’
    Isak could see the priest take a breath before replying. Lesarl had described Prayer as a ruthlessly clinical thinker, so the man must be hating having his thoughts clouded by his God’s rage.
    ‘What we feel now is a residual effect of Gods becoming enraged, an echo of their emotions, if you will. It began with a murderous irrationality for the few nights following the fall of Scree, and whilst that lasted only a short time, the effects will continue.’ He stopped and looked around, then continued earnestly, ‘What you must understand is that Gods are immortal - they feel emotions, but not in the same manner as mortals; when they do, the power is remarkable - such strong feelings emanating from their God may permanently alter the minds of some of their clerics, even if the God has subsequently calmed down. I recommend you assume that the extremists will hold sway for the immediate future.’
    ‘So you and all your kind are my enemies this year?’
    Isak spoke without thinking, but Prayer looked ashamed as he replied, ‘I fear so, my Lord, but I will not be alone in working to change that. I hope we shall prove only a minor hindrance.’
    An uncomfortable moment of silence stretched out into a minute, then two. Even Citizen appeared lost in her thoughts, unmindful of the muffled clatter of chairs from somewhere below them.
    Isak went to the window and stared through the half-open shutter that looked out onto the street below. The early winter snows had been replaced by wet trails of rain that glistened darkly on the rooftops. There was no trace of the light white blanket that had covered the city a few days before, but Isak could feel its touch on the air, the bite of ice on his cheek. It made him think the winter would be a cruel one.
    There’ll be no marching to Lomin this year , he thought distantly, the events of the previous year now ancient history, almost unreal, in his mind. Let us hope the Elves think the same. Vesna says we hurt them badly enough last year to buy us time, but how long can that protect us?
    He looked down at the empty street below, the cobbles washed clear of the day’s debris. The rain and cold hadn’t stopped trade on the docks; Tirah’s merchants were intent on getting as much into the city’s underground cold stores before winter laid siege. For a moment he thought he caught a shape in the shadows, nothing as definite as an outline, yet enough to make Isak catch his breath.
    Gods, is this still my imagination? I’ve seen nothing, I can sense nothing, and yet . . . and yet I have that taste in my mouth again, the one that reminds me of the Temple Plaza in Scree when I found the Reapers . He found himself nervously biting down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood. Gods, what did I do when I summoned them?
    He shook the mood from him; it wasn’t something he could afford to think about right now. His dreams had been dark enough of late, even those where Xeliath had touched his mind, for the sky had appeared darker, the blurred horizon more menacing. When she was not there he’d started to find himself on a desolate plain scoured of life. The ground was scorched and smoking, but cold to the touch. He knew there were others around, though he could see no one. The wind whipped up from the ground, trying to lift him like a kite, but he felt himself drawn