into his reception chamber.
‘Enter,’ he called, his imperious voice muffled somewhat by the mask.
The door opened, and a youth dressed in the black robes of the Guardians of Night walked in. He was pallid, angular, with shadowy rings beneath his violet eyes and his hair shorn to a dark stubble.
‘Ah, Xanth,’ said Orbix, recognizing the youth at once. ‘What brings you here? Has the execution taken place already?’
‘It has, sir – but that is not the reason for my visit.’ He paused. There was something deeply disturbing about never being able to see the Most High Guardian’s eyes. It was only his rasping voice that gave any clue as to what he was thinking.
‘Well?’ Orbix demanded.
‘I have information,’ said Xanth simply.
Orbix nodded. Xanth Filatine was, without doubt, the most promising apprentice to have come his way in many years. Now that Orbix had prised him away from that obese fop, Vox Verlix, the youth was shaping up well. ‘Information?’ he said. ‘What information?’
‘It concerns the librarian knights,’ he said, and spat on the floor. ‘A recently captured prisoner has just revealed some interesting facts about them under interrogation.’
‘Go on,’ said Orbix, rubbing his gloved hands together.
‘They are about to send three more apprentice treatise scholars off to the Deepwoods. Tomorrow morning, when—’
‘Then we must seize them.’ Orbix smiled behind the metal mask. ‘Three more traitors to add to the hanging gantries.’
‘If you please, sir,’ said Xanth, his nasal voice little more than a whisper, ‘I think I may have a better idea.’
Orbix glowered at the youth. He didn’t like his plans being questioned. ‘A better idea?’ he growled.
‘Well, not better, as such,’ said Xanth, back-tracking. ‘But an alternative that you might like to consider.’
‘Go on,’ said Orbix.
‘Sir, if the renegades were followed, in secret, this could be the chance we have been waiting for to uncover the entire network of traitors. We could expose each and every enemy of the Tower of Night operating between Undertown and the so-called Free Glades.’
‘But—’ Orbix began.
‘As I see it, the choice is this,’ Xanth went on hurriedly. ‘The three apprentices now. Or the whole treacherous set-up tomorrow.’
Orbix raised an eyebrow. ‘And who might be the spy to carry out such a task?’ he asked.
Xanth lowered his head modestly.
‘I see,’ said Orbix. He tapped thoughtfully on the muzzle of the mask with the tips of his bony fingers.
The proposal was interesting, very interesting. For so long now, he had dreamed of capturing those two turncoats, Ulbus Vespius and Tallus Penitax, the treacherous Professors of Light and Darkness – and torturing them until they repented for going over to the other side and begged for his forgiveness. He would forgive them, of course. He would forgive all those who fell into his clutches – even Fenbrus Lodd.
And then he would have them executed.
‘Very well, Xanth,’ he said at last. ‘I give you my permission to go.’
‘Thank you, sir. Thank you,’ said Xanth, emotion sounding in his voice for the first time since their meeting had begun. ‘You won’t regret your decision, sir. I give my word.’
‘I hope not, Xanth,’ came the icy response. ‘Indeed, I make you this promise. If you should let me down, then it is you who will live to regret my decision.’
With Orbix Xaxis’s doomladen words echoing round his head, Xanth left the chamber and headed back down the flights of stairs. Hood raised and gown wrapped close about him, he kept to the shadows and out of sight. Past the look-out gantries he went; past the guards’ quarters and great halls, the laboratories and kitchens, and on down into the dark, dismal dungeons in the lower reaches of the sinister Tower of Night.
All round him he heard the low, whimpering moan of the prisoners. Hundreds of them, there were – earth-scholars,sky