The Regent raised her head. Jaxon noticed that her pupils were hugely dilated, and that she held herself curiously, as though her very skin prickled. ‘Mist?’ she repeated. ‘Mist?’
‘Here, Cousin, look! Something is happening in the crevasse.’
The Senior Forecaster merely raised his eyebrows, but a murmur of disquiet ran across the assembled servants, still huddled on their knees.
Jaxon cleared his throat. ‘I hope nothing is wrong, my lady? You do not feel, ahem, any warning?’
Another unhappy murmur from the servants disturbed the air. The word ‘warning’ passed from mouth to ear to mouth, and ‘disaster’ leapt after it.
The Regent stepped to the parapet and stood beside Adaeze. ‘I believe, Cousin, that perhaps I feel… I see no mist.’
‘It’s almost directly under the wall,’ whispered Adae
