The temple of the goddess Nui was busiest at dawn. They said that after guiding through the night those who had died to the next world, Nui could not contain her sorrow when daybreak came, and wept. People believed that was when the goddess’s mercy reached its height. More precisely, it was when her heart softened enough to grant their wishes. Those who queued from dawn would fill the temple throughout the morning.
Even allowing for that, there were unusually many people trying to enter today. Neups walked shyly alongside the queue until he reached the candle seller. He poured out a handful of alpion coins, bought one candle, then followed the queue to the altar. But there were so many candles today that it was difficult to find room even for one. Neups slipped his candle onto another that had fallen under the pressure of its neighbors. Then, looking up at the goddess’s statue, he spoke.
“Goddess, it’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Neuptolemaios. Sorry the name’s a little difficult. Some crazy old man… Well, never mind that. One candle may seem laughable for a first meeting, but I shook out my purse right down to the dust.”
It was true that Neups had no money. He had joined Leonis’s wager and come away with debt instead of winnings. These days, he did not even have money for chewing tobacco. He had found the money for his candle in a fountain where children tossed coins and made wishes at dawn.
“To be honest, haven’t you been a little hard on us lately? If you’ve done this much, please stop making trouble for Hawk House. I beg you.”
Neups bowed his head and was backing away when someone spoke behind him.
“Hey, are you one of the Hawk Brothers?”
He turned. It was a burly man who had been hovering around the altar. Judging by his brown toga, he appeared to belong to the Central Trading Guild. In other words, he was an enemy to the patrolmen. Neups raised an eyebrow.
“And? What do you want?”
“How’s the Shadowhawk?”
He could not tell whether the man was asking after Gene or hoping he had died, so Neups kept his hostile manner.
“Unfortunately, he isn’t dead.”
“Then he’s all right? Getting better?”
“So? Have you got a complaint?”
The merchant reached inside his toga, took out a purse, and put it in Neups’s hand. When Neups accepted it without thinking, the merchant moved his hand and spoke.
“Buy him something nourishing with this. And be sure to tell him this: the Shadowhawk won that duel.”
The merchant hurried away. Looking dazed, Neups stared down at the purse. Then a middle-aged woman approached and spoke.
“My mistress says you needn’t light any more candles. She’s already lit about a hundred herself.”
The lady in question was standing some distance away, looking only toward the altar, but plainly she had sent her servant over to speak. Meanwhile, several well-dressed young women had been hovering nearby. After hesitating, they edged over and spoke.
“How is the Shadowhawk?”
“He isn’t dead, is he? He’ll survive, won’t he? Oh, please. He looked so wonderful at the Grand Theater.”
“When I only knew him by his name, I thought he’d be a sinister villain. I had no idea he was so young. I think he was given the wrong name.”
“Please tell him he must survive. I lit ten candles too.”
Neups was bewildered, but it did not feel altogether unpleasant. After the young women had gone, a young man approached and showed him his forearm. Tattooed on it were the words, Shadowhawk, may you live long.
“I had it done with seven friends at the temple of Kersil.”
Kersil, the god of letters and tattoos, was said to grant wishes when they were written or tattooed over and over. Neups studied the tattoo, then asked,
“How much did that cost?”
The Idraphon V relic room was quiet. The library had only just opened.
Before the glass case opposite the display table stood Rosa, Tahyang, Luke, Hanbun, and Snowden. Back in Delphinad, Snowden’s clothes had changed into an ordinary tunic. The others looked exhausted. They had spent the entire night tensely making their way through Ayanad. Snowden tapped the glass case.
“We need this.”
On their way into the library, Snowden had explained. His power was still immature and did not extend to healing. But with the staff of Idraphon V, once a great healer, he could channel power into it and activate its healing magic. That was because of the mysterious feather that had helped create the staff. The being to which the feather belonged was related to Snowden by blood, so he could easily draw out its power. At that, Luke glanced at him and asked,
“Does that mean Snowden’s a bird?”
Snowden did not reply, and none of them asked again, unwilling to offend him. Now they were looking at that very feather. Everyone except Rosa was imagining all manner of things. The feather in question was enormous.
“Um… But how should we get it out?”
“We can’t very well… break the glass.”
“The security bell would ring. If we’re caught, we should be prepared for about ten years in prison. Not that I’d refuse if it had to be done.”
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