Katelina's attention snapped to the stairs where Malick stood. His long hair and beard glinted silver and his dark eyes glittered like volcanic jewels. His usual flowing red robe was replaced by a black one that made him seem like he'd coalesced from a shadow; a piece of the night made flesh and topped with moonlight.

The noise stopped, and the room disappeared. All that existed for Katelina was the ancient master's eyes and his soft voice whispering through her. The words ...