“When is low tide?’

“This time of year it should fall around midday.”

“How high are these cliffs? Won’t I get hurt?”

“The water is deep there. You might drown or be crushed against rocks, but you should survive the fall.”

“Comforting.” Jason had been blowing on his open sandwich. He took a tentative bite. “Will he give me part of the Word?”

The king crinkled his brow. “He might. I recall that a man in the sea cave assisted me in my quest. I do not remember where I obtained the fragments of the Word I collected, although I know some part came from The Book of Salzared. Whether the man in the cave knows part of the Word, or can simply offfer some guidance, I am unsure. The memory of his location was all I could salvage.”

“How did they erase your memories?”

The Blind King shrugged. “Torture. Toxins. Conditioning. Magic. It is all a miserable blur. I am not quite as old as I appear. I was once a proud, defiant man. The tormentors worked on me until I broke, mind and body. I have attempted to rehabilitate my body, to some success. Healing my mind has proven to be the greater challenge.”

With his tongue still feeling scalded, Jason finished his flavorless sandwich. He heard boots stomping up the stairs, followed by a firm rap at the door.

“Who seeks admittance?” the Blind King inquired.

“Brin, bearing urgent tidings.”

“Enter.”

A key rattled, and the Gamester came through the door, chest heaving, wearing a hooded cloak. “There has been a murder!”

Jason felt uncertain how to react. He wondered if this was more make-believe.

“Go on,” the king said.

“Francine, daughter of Gordon, has been taken. There was a slaughter at her home.”

“What?” Restrained outrage tightened the king’s voice. Jason leaned forward to the edge of his seat, alerted by the king’s genuine reaction. Did the Gamester mean Franny?

“Dire news, sire, but accurate.”

“Describe the scene.” The king had regained his composure.

“When I arrived, the door hung askew on twisted hinges. The parlor was a disaster. Furniture splintered, everything spattered with gore, tattered bits of fabric clinging to the walls and ceiling.”

“A mangler,” the king stated flatly.

“Assuredly.”

“She owned a boarhound.”

“I found no traces of the animal in the aftermath.”

“Could you identify the victim?”

“Yes.” The Gamester produced a bloody rag from inside his cloak, unfolding it to reveal part of a severed hand wearing a gray, fingerless glove.

“Aster!” Jason blurted.

The Gamester nodded at him. “So it would appear. Your Majesty, I found part of a dismembered hand upon a high shelf. I feel certain the hand belonged to the vagrant Aster, and young Jason seems to recognize it as well.”

“I spoke with Aster on my way here,” Jason recounted, sickened by the news that the vagrant had perished. “He sent his regards.”

The king nodded. “Aster was once a very respectable man. He must have tried to intervene when they came for her. Evidently not all heroic inclinations had abandoned him. Jason, I take it you spoke with Francine on your way into town?”

A pang of guilt hit Jason. “I did. I didn’t know it could endanger her!”

“This atrocity is meant as a message to you, and also to me. Maldor wants you to know he is watching. And he wants me to know what will happen to any who assist you. Brin, please hasten the preparation of provisions for Lord Jason to take upon his journey. And find out whether Rachel has elected to join him. I lament sending her into danger, but no safe choices remain for her. I still expect her best chance for survival is accompanying Jason, but she must reach that decision on her own. Maintain a guard at the foot of these stairs. Keep a close watch on the road.”

“As you wish, sire,” the Gamester said, bowing stiffly. He closed the door when he left.

“What will happen to Franny?” Jason asked, embarrassed by the catch in his voice.

“Did you mention the Word to her?” the king asked grimly.

“No, of course not. The loremaster warned me not to talk about it. I only discussed it with you because you brought it up.”

“Did you mention anything about the repository? Or your status as a Beyonder?”

“None of that,” Jason said. “I just asked the way to your castle.”

“Then she will probably live, although she might never return to her home. She will be interrogated and reprimanded.”

“I can’t believe this,” Jason murmured.

The king leaned forward. “Heed my words. I now share a lesson learned through a lifetime of sorrowful experience. Maldor possesses sufficient power that when he wants a person dead, with very few exceptions that individual perishes immediately. Strangely, though, the greater threat an adversary poses, the less vigorously Maldor pursues a hasty demise. He toys with his greatest opponents, baits them, studies them, attempts to shatter their spirits, to drive them to utter ruin rather than merely slay them. For this reason I remain alive. No doubt it amuses him to envision me rotting away in a decaying castle, not dead but defeated. A pathetic monarch astride a throne of make-believe.”

“What a psycho,” Jason mumbled.

The Blind King raised a finger. “However, Maldor deviates from his sadistically inquisitive pattern when a foe fails to abide by his rules. He abhors the dissemination of sensitive information. He detests the recruitment of neutral parties. It bodes well for you that when Francine is interrogated, she will have no information about the Word or your quest. Had you told her about the Word, I would advise you to hastily gulp down your last meal. Do not take this counsel lightly. If you went around informing every soul you met about The Book of Salzared, you and all of the people you had spoken with—and most likely their relatives, friends, and neighbors—would be massacred.”

“But you and I have talked a lot about the Word,” Jason said.

“You have told me nothing I did not already know. Converse all you want with those of us who share the secret bound in living skin. Once you have been marked as an enemy to Maldor, you are actually safest when consorting with his other enemies.”

“Have I brought danger upon you?”

“Undoubtedly. But I would have it no other way. My only remaining purpose of any consequence is advising those who dare to challenge the emperor.”