Jorick felt the others a second before he pushed the doors open, but it was too late. Masked by Malick's overwhelming presence, or lost beneath the boiling rivers of Jorick's rage, he hadn't sensed the other Executioners. They stood on either side of a long red carpet, wary eyes on him and the weapon in his hand. Mary and Bren were in the front, Beldren and Jamie behind them, with Ark as the last. Beyond him, in the center throne, sat Malick. His long robes were flecked in gold embroidery. His face was serene with the hint of amusement.
"Ah, my son, so you have come back."
Ark stepped forward, brandishing a sword whose notched blade spoke of old battles. "Jorick. Leave, now."
Jorick felt the Executioner in his head, seeking his plans, and turned it back on him, pressing into Ark's memor
