Calhoun cleared his throat, the sound thin against the hush that had settled over the chamber.
Mindful that too much hesitation would cast him in a suspicious light, he turned back to the gathered disciples.
"The veinlight has only worsened," he replied at last. "But it's currently under repair. Until the fracture is sealed, the Sacred Order must stand vigilant… and preserve the balance of the realm."
"Master Caelion," one of the senior adepts raised his hand. "Then when shall the second prince be found? Are we to seek him as well? We do not even know what he looks like. If we are commanded to capture him, how are we to know him when he stands before us?"
Calhoun fell silent.
The question lingered in the air like smoke from a dying brazier, and behind his composed expression his thoughts began to turn. These people knew nothing, and if he played his part well enough, their ignorance could yet be turned to his advantage.
