Chapter 10

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Weary, the Baret opened the door to his chambers and slipped inside, surprised to find the fire lit and lamps still burning. Sounds came from the bedchamber; he followed them, thinking he’d find his manservant. Instead who—or rather, what—he saw surprised him. “Who are you?”

If the apparition in his bedchamber was a man, he stood taller than anyone the Baret had ever met. He wore a long, hooded cloak, black as the blood in a dragon’s heart. His hands, face, and legs were all hidden beneath the heavy cloak. His shoulders were so wide, he appeared to fill the room. He stood between the wardrobe and the bed, and in his hands were some of the Baret’s clothes.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Indignation rose within the Baret—he was no longer tired. “Answer me!”

The stranger tossed the clothes onto the bed and stepped forward, in one fluid motion pushing the hood back and offering his hand to Wray. Startled, the Baret watched as his own hand was enveloped in a hearty shake.