Vi was up here somewhere. Kylar’s encounter with the Speaker had left him shaken. He’d been sure that she’d stolen Retribution. One look in her eyes told him otherwise. Now, what had looked like an unexpected move that would bring him to the center of the deceiver’s web and deliver his sword back into his hand was looking like a colossal blunder. Nonetheless, Kylar bulled forward. He was committed now.

The floors this high in the Chantry weren’t large. The Seraph’s head held the Speaker’s office, a waiting room, some storerooms, the stairs, and a classroom. In that classroom was Vi. Kylar opened the door to the last room before the classroom. He’d kicked down enough doors.

This room was at the Seraph’s eyes. It was a broad, open room, but despite the light pouring in from the glass-clear eyes, it had a distinctly unused feeling, as if no one had set foot here in decades. In the center of the room stood a woman wreathed in light. Her arms were crossed over her chest, chin pointed at the floor, eyes closed. She wore a short gossamer robe that ended at her knees. Halfway down her shins, her skin changed from a shade too golden to be merely sun-kissed to the purest white alabaster. As Kylar stood, stunned by this unexpected beauty, he saw the alabaster recede to her ankles, to her toes.

The woman took a gentle first breath. Her chin lifted. She opened her eyes. The irises were pure platinum.

“You’re the Seraph,” Kylar said dumbly.

“Indeed, and you are a man and you have awakened me, but you are not the One.”

“Uh, sorry?” Kylar said. The Seraph stared at him and as he met those platinum eyes, all he could see was magic, oceanic and mercifully at rest. “Are you going to do something bad to me now?”

The Seraph laughed. “Should I? You’ve frightened my little sisters badly.” She glanced at the door. “Except for the one who holds your bond. I’ll leave you to her tender mercies, Nameless.”

“I like that dress better than the one your statue wears. You’ve got great legs.”

Her eyes widened, but he saw that she wasn’t displeased. “Me too,” she said, “but when one is three hundred feet tall, it behooves one to err on the side of modesty.”

“I can’t believe I said that.”

She arched an eyebrow at him.

“Um, Lady? Ma’am? Sorry, what should I call you?”

“Impertinence suits you better, Nameless. Ask your question.”

“I lost a sword. I thought the Speaker stole it, but I was wrong. Can you tell me if one of the other Sisters stole it?”