The patrol captain frowned and took half a step forward. “We don’t have time for temple history, sir. The frame is nearly rigged below.”
“It is not history,” Edris said. “It happened two valleys east of where your boots are standing, and four of the men in your company were told the crew died in a rockfall.”
Behind the captain, a broad-shouldered corporal holding the lantern pole glanced sideways at the soldier beside him. Neither man moved his boots, but the pike tips stopped rising.
“We were told the restoration ring and the bell clapper would wake a protective guardian mind,” Edris said, looking past the captain directly at the five soldiers in the tunnel mouth. “That was the summary I approved for the barracks. What I did not put in the barracks summary is that before we found the marsh animal, I sent Senior Archivist Amren into this sanctuary with a mature temple-bred sacred beast and an active memory stone from Falling Bells. I ordered him to test whether an ordinary bonded body could carry the outer layer of Azhrak’s battalion command.”
Osha stood up slowly from the cool-water shelf, holding her father’s stained leather journal in both hands against her apron.
