Xenocrates

This time Xenocrates was neither kind nor comforting.

Xenocrates sputtered for a moment, before finding mental traction.

“The Thunderhead saw fit to take you as far from the clutches of Scythe Xenocrates, and the corruption of the MidMerican Scythedom, as possible. But the moment you revived, they were notified of your location, as is the law.”

“Thank me once you are safe. Now that you’ve been revived and Xenocrates knows where you are, you can bet he’s notified the local scythes. I’m certain a team has been dispatched to retrieve you, which means we need to get you out of here now.”

“Perhaps, but probably not. Xenocrates is not a stupid man. He may have suspected the true nature of that page, but truth didn’t matter. He saw it as a means to an end. A way to discredit you in front of respected scythes like Scythe Mandela—who heads the bejeweling committee—and thereby ensure that Scythe Goddard’s apprentice would get the ring instead of you.”