Read Whisper of Waves for Free Online

work,” Pristoleph said. “I’ll let you live so you can tell him that.”
    “He won’t care, but I’ll let you spare me just the same.”
    Pristoleph forced a smile and said, “You won’t find me in this neighborhood again. You won’t find me on the streets.”
    “Going somewhere?”
    Pristoleph’s smile faded as the soldier started to laugh. He reached down to his belt and drew the whychfinder’s dagger.
    “Yes,” he said, and the whychfinder stopped laughing. “I’m going somewhere.”
    Pristoleph killed the man with his own dagger, left it waving slowly back and forth in his chest, and disappeared into the shadows.
    7_
    6Alturiak, the Year of the Lion (1340 DR) The City of Amruthar, Thay
    Th e map was a series of illusions that hung in the air of the broad circular chamber and produced the only light in the room. Marek Rymiit let his eyes drift across the shimmering blue line that represented the southern coastline of the Vilhon Reach. He reached up to cut the coastline with the tip of his finger. He guessed that the width of his fingernail eclipsed maybe five miles of coastline between the cities of Hlath and Samra.
    A group of Red Wizards settled into positions around the circumference of the room, each accompanied by one or two trusted bodyguards and a secretary.
    Marek looked around the room and returned the silent, nodding greetings of friend and foe alike. Though it had been over four years since he’d returned to civilization with Insithryllax in tow, most of the Red Wizards still gave the transformed dragon wary looks. Some, Marek knew, were hoping the series of powerful enchantments that held the dragon in thrall would one day fail and leave Marek Rymiit at the wyrm’s mercy. Others, he hoped, saw Insithryllax as an ally as dependable as Marek himself. It was just that balance upon which the Red Wizard’s life teetered.
    “I will make this brief,” said the tharchion as he swept into the room through a rapidly fading dimension door.
    What little noise there had been in the room—the shuffling of feet, a stifled cough, or whispered commands
    to assistants—dropped away. The tharchion held up one nearly skeletal arm and with a crooked, knobby finger, pointed to a floating point on the great map.
    “Reth,” the tharchion said, “Tovek.”
    The Red Wizard named Tovek, a confused expression crossing his brow for just a split second, bowed in response as the coastal city of Reth blazed with a fierce orange light that picked it out from the dull blues and greens of the translucent map.
    The tharchion’s finger followed the coastline southwest and settled on the city of: “Iljak, Toravarr.”
    Toravarr, no less confused than Tovek, bowed to the tharchion.
    , As he spoke the name of one city after another, the corresponding point blazed with an orange radiance. Finally, the tharchion pointed at a small sphere hanging on the eastern edge of the Lake of Steam, and Marek’s heart sank.
    “Innarlith,” the tharchion said, “Rymiit.” Marek Rymiit made certain his face betrayed none of what he was feeling. He bowed even as the tharchion moved on to the next city, and stood only after he’d named two more.
    Insithryllax leaned in toward Marek’s left ear, but the Red Wizard waved him off with a barely perceptible shake of his head. The dragon paused momentarily then leaned back.
    They stood in silence until each of the assembled wizards had been assigned to a different city.
    “You will leave for your new homes when the sun rises on Ches,” the tharchion commanded. “Once there, you will make yourself a part of your city’s life pulse. You will learn the names of all whose names are worth knowing. You will indebt yourselves, ingratiate yourselves, inculcate yourselves. You will not command, you will not conquer, you will not take nor will you accept control. You will listen, you will watch, you will remember,
    and you will report. When you are commanded to do so, you will act. When you are