An hour had passed. The old Matriarch had recovered and sat, silent and watchful, in a chair opposite her wide desk. Next to her sat Nyeeda and in the young secretary’s eyes a peculiar expression lurked as she stared at the slender figure of the young man. Curt smiled, leaning back in the comfortable chair, and his eyes as he stared at the fleecy white clouds and blue sky visible through the open window, were narrowed and clear with decisive thought.
“Well?” The Matriarch cleared her throat with a harsh rasping sound. “What happens now?”
“Do you still believe in the predictions of Comain?”
“Naturally.” The old woman frowned as she stared at Curt. “Though I will admit I don’t quite know how it is that I’m still alive.”
“Hasn’t Nyeeda explained?”
“She said something about you having sav
