“You’re very quick to correct your betters,” said the priest in a voice like a grindstone.
“Oh no, Anthu. No, no, not correct. You simply asked—”
“Don’t you tell me what I said! Do you always contradict your seniors, boy?”
“Ey!” said Tyrmar. “Give him a chance!”
But Azhur was crushed. “Forgive me, Anthu,” he stammered, “it’s only what I’ve read in the Archives—”
“Really? And when were novices given access to the Archives?”
Ilissos sat up like a dog about to catch a biscuit. “This is from your god’s Scrolls? Read them to me!” said Ilissos.
“You keep out of this!” snapped Jher-val. To Azhur: “Well, I’m waiting. Explain yourself.”
“It is unusual, Anthu, yes—”
“Highly unusual.”
“But in this case, I’m permitted.” Azhur took a breath. “I am assistant to Lord Galdtchav, the Senior Lore
