Chapter 18

By week's end, Uriel had been summoned before the Council. Though he had earlier indications from Arhyvhynne that his status was not in jeopardy, he was still quite nervous about the summons.

Escorted by Ghemella, Uriel arrived in the Chambers and took his place on the bench at the end of massive table. All the Council members were present and all wore their hoods, preventing Uriel from deciphering any hint of what their decision was. His mind wandered a moment as he recalled his previous times here. Though he was relatively sure that the Chambers hadn't changed, it somehow seemed different. The dark stone walls and floor, the arcane symbols, the torches, the fireplace, the table, it all seemed the same. Except for maybe the witches themselves. After all, Khyrhyelle was no longer among them.

The High Witch brought Uriel out from his reverie. "Yes, Arhyvhynne?" he said and smiled.

"She is the High Witch!" Dhynelle hissed. "Show your respect and address her as such." The words were accompanied by a harsh stare.

How quickly we embrace our new High Witch when it suits our purpose, Wyxotte barbed the black robe telepathically.

Meanwhile Uriel faltered, any composure lost. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean any offense—Your Highness," he quickly added as an afterthought.

"None taken," Arhyvhynne responded with a small smile, piqued and satisfied at the same time.