The Heir of Night (2010)
“The red and white room was filled with a clamor of voices; Nhairin was leaning one arm on the mantelpiece above the fire, her expression bleak; and a tall woman in a priestess’s robes had taken the steward’s place in the chair. Asantir was standing by the tapestry with her sword drawn, a pale green ichor dripping from the blade onto the floor, while the guards searched the room. Haimyr strolled over to the bed and perched himself on one corner, carefully settling the fall of his sleeves. Perple...xed, Malian stared from him to the young priests at the door.
“What,” she said, “are you all doing here?” She tried to take everything in, to work out what had happened, then shook her head. “I had the strangest dream,” she muttered, as much to herself as Haimyr. “Kalan was in it, and the hounds in the tapestry had come alive.” She shivered. “Their eyes were full of fire and their voices cried out for blood.”
“Old tales to scare children with,” Nhairin said, although she sounded shaken.MoreLess
“What,” she said, “are you all doing here?” She tried to take everything in, to work out what had happened, then shook her head. “I had the strangest dream,” she muttered, as much to herself as Haimyr. “Kalan was in it, and the hounds in the tapestry had come alive.” She shivered. “Their eyes were full of fire and their voices cried out for blood.”
“Old tales to scare children with,” Nhairin said, although she sounded shaken.MoreLess
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