At dawn they left Banningtown by horse and rode north together. They had to keep their party small, so Agalric’s men and Artherostayed behind. Edmon needed Arthero to be the eyes in Banningtown in case the Yghrs were to make a move. Naturally the Seordmeister protested, saying his sword needed to be beside Edmon. Edmon knew, however, that Arthero’s biases against the Yghrs were like bringing a match to smoldering embers, and Edmon needed discretion.

They reached a small town where they traded in their pomfreys for long haired desert horses and continued past dunes and up a gradual hill. The road to Rain-Mapalthas was wrought with inconsistent footing that only the desert horses could navigate. The wind at times picked up and the sand stung their faces like pins.

Past the hill, they neared the village of Rain-Mapalthas, surrounded by sheer cliffs protecting it from the wind. They came upon a large figure carved into the sheer side of a cliff, standing nearly thirty feet tall. The figure had a crown of birds, a beard almost as long as its body, and a war hammer the width of the figure's shoulders. At its feet were bowls of food, flowers, and trinkets.

"Kharanthar, the God of all Yghrs," Singis explained. "It was said that the north was once green and fertile, and there was enough for all. But men, greedy and violent, waged war with their own brothers and sisters over the abundance. The war lasted a hundred years, and Kharanthar descended from the sky with his mighty hammer Ourias and smote the green from the land forever. Many come to the spot and pray to Kharanthar at the base of his feet. Rain-Mapalthas is ahead. There are many narrow steps we will need to climb.”

"My lord, can you climb these stairs?" Agalric asked.

"Kidu will bear me upon his back," Edmon said, looking at the young monk. "If you will oblige."

"I can do this," Kidu said. He carried Edmon and followed Menquist and Agalric up the steps. The five companions edged up the narrow steps against the sheer cliff.

Kidu chuckled.

"I want to know what’s so funny," Menquist said.

"Seems a long time ago, but I climbed similar steps up the snowy caps with Timlan, back at Angshar,” Kidu said. "It seems it doesn't matter if it's in the snow or in the desert, there's always steps and always some old hermit in a cave at the end of the climb."

The steps were carved into the mountain without any railing. Where some of the carved steps had crumbled, stone blocks had been laid. Kidu’s footing was steady while he followed the others.

“I thank you for this,” Edmon said. “I am a burden at times, with my words. At other times, well, I suppose the burden is much more real.”

“A burden I’ll bear,” Kidu said. “The desert is vast. I can see the dunes all around this town. And that city far in the distance, by those mountains? What’s what?”

“Isimil,” Singis said. “One of the three great burghals of the Smote. And probably the largest of the slave traders.”

“I’ve never seen anything like the Smote,” Kidu said. “It’s a shame our stay here will be short.”

“Kidu…” Edmon whispered.

“Yes?”

“Please keep your eyes on the steps.”

At the top of the long flight of steps was a plateau with several abodes carved into the mountain. The sun basked the plateau, and there were pots of flowers and trees lining the small street between the homes. Two children were dueling with sticks, while an older man was hanging up the wash on a line. Singis led them to a nondescript looking home at the end of the short street, adorned by climbing vines with red flowers and incense burning from a pot.

The Soothsayer was not as old as Kidu imagined. She had probably not yet seen forty Springs. She sat on a stool at the entrance to her home, fanning a plate of bread and dried fruit with a feather hand fan.

"We would offer you supper but we don't have supper here in Rain-Malpathas," the Soothsayer said. "We have grown accustomed to only a single meal to start our day, but Chaicus is baking some bread for you. Forgive the flies. They seem to come out when there are guests. They are so hungry in the afternoon. Please, sit where you can. I am Sereph, and welcome to my home above the stairs.”

“Do you remember me?” Singis asked. "I've come to you once before, a long time ago."

"Of course we do, Singis, daughter of the Smote," Sereph answered. "You came to us with questions of your future, and we told you instead of your past. We remember what we asked you to find, and we know you have found it. As for the others, we know most of you. Edmon of Kienne, once the Steward of Lanfrydhall but your prince has taken your title. You had a spell at the Gildemanse. Agalric, son of Gorrick. You are restless, and you have traveled to almost every corner of the three kingdoms, but this is your first time to the Smote. A bit surprising, since you have a penchant for risking your father’s fortunes at the gambling houses. The biggest gambling houses, after all, are in the Smote. And of course we know of the Grey Herald. There is still so much we don’t quite understand about you, Herald. Servant to the king of Kienne, but whom are we fooling? You have no borders, do you Herald? You are to us a greatest curiosity, second only to this young man beside you. We have to admit, we don't know anything about you."

She stared at Kidu with her fan folded and rested on her chin.

"I am Kidu e'Rengu, of Angshar House," he said. "I am no one famous, and I am far from home. I've longed to meet a Soothsayer."

"Soothsayer?" she laughed. "We are not Soothsayers. We are only the voice of Kharanthar. We are granted a gift, that when Kharathar has visions, he whispers it to us. Who knows if what he tells us is sooth or no? Three visions he has shared with us today, so choose your questions wisely.”

“Who else is here?” Agalric asked, looking around. “Who is this we you keep mentioning?”

Menquist pulled up an empty stool and sat next to her. "Very well, seer. What prophecies do we need to fulfill? Or do we fulfill your pockets first with coin? You do not look nor sound Yghr to me. What is your name?"

"We are certain those are not the three questions you wish to throw away Herald," she replied.

Menquist put his hand on her knee. “Enough with the we.”

“My name is Sereph, and I came first from the West, further West than you know,” she said. “In my way, I have served many kings and queens, but when Kharathar decided to speak to me, I settled here in this humble home and simply await his messages."

Singis sat on chair beside Sereph. She took some bread and took a bite.

Sereph smiled. "Some still have manners, and that warms my heart. I will first share news with you of those you care most about. There was a great battle at the edge of the city between the forest and the canyon. Captain Delger has retaken the city. Both he and the Neredunian prince survived."

"How do you know this?" Menquist asked.

"Kharanthar shows what he wishes to be shown," Sereph said.

"The first vision that I seek from your God then. What can you tell me of two individuals?" he asked. "Perenenda, the daughter of the Neredunian King Burulgi."

"The princess was last seen marching north through Ronyn's Promise with an army of her own."

"An army!" Menquist exclaimed. "Does she take the Crossing?"

"Kharanthar has not shown me this," Sereph said. "She entered the Promise with many in tow, but she left the Promise with over twice in number. The Gods favor her almost as much as those who follow her, it seems."

"Did you foresee this, Menquist?" Edmon asked.

"No, I had hoped that Burulgi would have led the march," Menquist replied. “But with Perenenda! My heart worries.”

"Sornam the Peer is with her, she shall be safe," Edmon said.

"Is there another you seek?" Sereph asked.

Menquist stroked his beard and looked out into the flatlands below. "A westerner, like you say you are though I've never come across an accent like yours. There is not much I can tell you about the one I seek. He would have been thirty, if he is alive. Very tall, large man. He would have had a mark upon his neck."

"Hirodias," Singis said.

"Yes," Menquist snapped, his eyes wide at hearing the name. "How do you know of him? I've never mentioned him to you."

"He led the slave rebellion against Tsetsurg in Isimil," Singis said. "I was sent to hunt him down."

"All these years, I've been searching for him," Menquist said. "And he had been stuffed in a hole by Tsetsurg. Has he been a slave all these years? Did you come to find him?"

"Yes. He was a slave, and bred into a pit fighter. I helped him escape back to the West. And Menquist," Singis added, "he has the mark of the Yon."

Menquist held her hand. "That is the mark. I've always meant to tell you, but I needed to know if he was alive first. This is why you must go find him. He is in terrible danger, and we will need him in this war."

"He is in more danger than you know, if he is in the westlands," Sereph said. "Aredun has had a taste of the Isnumurti Sword, but only the tip of the Sword has plunged into New Hearth. The Captain of Aredun has not yet met the Wellseekers. They are cut from a different cloth. Their objective is to cleanse the land of impure beings by consuming them."

"Consuming?" Agalric asked. "You mean eat them?"

"That is what they did to Mazi," Edmon said. "They held him and drained him of his blood before returning his empty vessel."

"That is why you, above all others, must avoid the Wellseekers," Sereph said to Edmon. "The Isnumurti thrive on consuming the life force of other mana beings. They have been feeding off the Arkromenyons for hundreds of years. You would indeed be a great prize, as they would let blood from you until deep into your old age. Be wary of them. They are always small in number. Hairless beings often shrouded in white. Count your blessings that they have not crossed over to the east yet."

"I will be on the lookout," Edmon said, glancing at Kidu.

"Lady Sereph, for the second vision I ask of the mighty father," Singis said. "Is the Brotherhood of Silver and Glass real? What control do they have over the clans?"

"The Brotherhood of Silver and Glass has existed for thousands of years," Sereph said. “But not as a body. They've existed as rumor, and as a false figure in the shadows that curves the storylines men choose to create for the world. Alas through the histories, men have found it easier to blame their failures on this Brotherhood as easily as they praise their gods for their successes. Failure has given life to the Brotherhood. They are real only in our minds, Inspector. Kharanthar knows this to be true. Is there another vision you seek? Perhaps from you, young man? I give you the third question. You said you always wanted to meet a soothsayer."

"I have a thousand questions," Kidu said. "About who I am, my parents, about whom I've met in the past few months. About the gods and their will, and why I will never be Peer."

"Kharanthar's vision awaits, master Kidu," Sereph said.

Kidu shook his head. "I must navigate my own path, and I have much to do for there's a lot of path left.”