The chamber was exactly as she remembered. The circular table and the impassive faces sat behind. Lyris kept her hands neatly behind her back with a thumbnail digging into her palm. The pin point of pain gave her something to focus on, other then the sensation of rising dread. She had failed in her quest and as a student of the Myst. She watched the carving over Morgalin’s head. The flicker of candlelight made simulated cascade of water look as though it was truly moving. Lyris could almost hear the sound of a waterfall. Or perhaps that was wishful thinking and a desire to hear anything but the tense silence of the chamber.
The journey back to Milany had been brief. The Princes with their guard travelled fast and not three days since they’d captured Timmit, here she was, awaiting judgeme
