CHAPTER 28
The fanatic has a fevered brow, pilgrim.
His mind cannot cope
when confronting unexpected surprises.
-FROM THE BOOK OF ST. ALBANS-
Cold were the hours I stood wrapped in the Cloak of Invisibility standing on the execution’s gallows. Unseen and alone I stood waiting for the weak sun to rise in the east and for the gathering of the city’s crowds to witness the first executions of the day. The wind, bitter cold and filled with the threat of snow, swirled around me. In the wind I heard voices whispering. Voices far away. Voices indistinct. Voices not from the Netherworld since the cloak wrapped around me hid me from the Netherworld and from all wizardry itself. No, these voices came from souls who still clung to the Outer Realms and refused to journey toward the River of Time.
