Sylmira stepped through the door. Her steps clicking quickly on the polished stone floor. The chamber was bathed in the warm light of the hearth and lamps but even that glow couldn't chase away the gloom that seeped in through the tall arched windows.
King Roderic sat in his chair near the back wall of the room with a thick book open in his hands. His brow lifted as soon as he saw her face. He closed the book slowly. His expression turning grave.
"If you came here wearing that look, Archmage," he said, his deep voice edged with concern, "then something very serious must be happening."
Sylmira bowed her head briefly before straightening. "Your Majesty."
The king shifted his gaze toward the window. The storm outside had grown closer. The clouds churned like smoke with veins of lightning snaking through their depths.
For a moment, the flicker of light from the lightning painted his face in alternating flashes.
