The Priest paced back and forth through the passage, looking out for their return.
Midnight was only a couple of minutes away. Where could they be? They should be returning by now? Where were they?
An almost silent chuckle was heard from behind him.
It was Nyka, she was leaning against the rocky wall of the passage, victory and mockery dancing in her black eyeballs under the light of the moon that managed to seep into the tunnel.
“Where is your Heir now,” she paused and held his gaze, “Uza?”
The Priest frowned, knowing that she had intentionally not called him his title.
This was an insult to his vision, his ability and the fact that he had brought in the Heir— a prophecy that she obviously didn't believe in.
“Soon.” The Priest said, tucking his trembling hands into his black robes. “Very soon. They will be here very soon.”
