Forest Kingdom Trilogy 2 - Blood and Honor

without a King on the throne its power is weakened. I have summoned the Steward here. Let her tell you what is happening in Castle Midnight.'
    He gestured to the herald, and the servants opened the main doors. The Steward hurried in, followed by her Apprentice. The
    herald glanced at them nervously, and then bellowed across the silent Court, 'Catriona Taggert, and her Apprentice, Damon Cord!'
    Once again the whole Court bowed and curtsied, this time including the Regent and his wife. Taggert stopped just inside the doors and nodded briefly in reply, clearly impatient to begin speaking. She was short, only an inch or so over five foot, and delicately formed. She looked almost frail at first glance, but there was a strength and determination in her raw-boned face that appealed greatly to Jordan. She was in her late twenties, good-looking in a brisk, undemanding way, and she wore her short chestnut hair in a style that was more functional than attractive. Her stance was firm and uncompromising, and she looked extremely competent. The Steward was supposed to have extensive knowledge of the High Magic, and Jordan for one didn't doubt it for a moment. There was something about her eyes . . .
    There was also something about Damon Cord, the Steward's Apprentice. He was a tall gangling man who looked as though he had dressed in a hurry in the dark. His clothes might once have been best quality tailoring, but now were torn and ragged and filthy almost beyond belief. He was also the biggest and most muscular man Jordan had ever seen. Old scars formed a bizarre tracery on his bare arms, and sometime in the past someone had made a determined effort to cut Cord's face in half. The resulting scar stretched from forehead to chin, just missing the left eye, crossing the nose, and nicking the right corner of the mouth, giving him a permanent half smile. He looked grim, brooding, and not a little crazy. He also looked decidedly dangerous, if anyone was ever dumb enough to upset him. A low murmur ran through the courtiers as they assessed the new arrivals.
    'All right, everyone shut up and listen,' said the Steward. 'We don't have much time. There's been a major outbreak of the I Inreal. I don't know what brought it on, but over the last two hours my staff and I have been run ragged all over the Castle, Hist trying to hold things together. First, the good news. As far as we can tell, no one's died yet. That's it. Now the bad news. The Old Library is gone. When you open the door, there's nothing there but cobwebs. They look like they go on for ever. We sent one man in on a rope. He got a hundred yards from the door and still couldn't find a wall in any direction. He also thought there was something in the cobwebs with him, watching. We've nailed the door shut for the time being.
    I'll try and get the Old Library back when I've got the time, but I'm not promising anything. And stay away from the Musician's Gallery over the East Ballroom. There's a new ghost there, and it looks like a bad one. It's got teeth you wouldn't believe. The gargoyles are running loose on the roof, but I've got some of my people up there taking care of it.
    'All in all, we were just about holding our own . . . until I did a routine scan of the Castle, and discovered there was a pattern to the outbreaks. All the incidents were carefully timed to make me miss one major outbreak. Sometime during the past two hours, the Unreal broke through right here, in the Great Hall.'
    There was utter silence when she stopped talking. Jordan glanced unobtrusively around him. On every side there were pale, frightened faces and wide, staring eyes. The Court was terrified. Jordan badly wanted to ask Gawaine or Heather what the hell the Steward was talking about, but he didn't dare draw attention to himself with a display of ignorance.
    The Regent stepped forward a pace. 'You're the Steward, Catriona. Do what you have to.'
    The courtiers stirred uncertainly, and looked warily about them. In ones and twos, and then in groups, they started to edge away from each other. Jordan quickly became aware that even Gawaine and Heather were doing it, in what seemed to be an unconscious reaction. He let his hand rest casually on the sword at his side. Something was about to happen, something awful. He could feel it on the air, a tense atmosphere that was thickening from anticipation into certainty. The Steward looked slowly around her, her dark eyes cold and watchful.
    'Nobody is to interfere,