Chapter 20-1
Chapter 20 Malcolm was stunned, as bewildered as a drunk who’s just woken up from a week-long bender to find his world in smoking ruins. Had he really been poised on the brink of his dearest dream just twelve short hours ago? It did not seem possible, yet the evidence was right here for all to see. His robe was clean—a gesture of ceremonial respect. And the focal point of that would-be ceremony still adorned the floor in front of him. It was unused; incomplete; a symbol of his failure. He dragged his fingers through the sweaty tangles of his hair as if trawling for the strength to endure. Last night’s fiasco had cost him an unparalleled opportunity, and a number of irreplaceable tools as well. The naj was gone, reportedly destroyed by catastrophic magic; and the nonborn which he had slat
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