devoted himself to teaching Galen, had demanded the very best from his apprentice. He had never made Galen feel any less because his training had been divided between two teachers, one of whom had forsaken control and killed.
Another message from Blaylock. Galen.
Coming, Galen answered.
He had not deserved Elric's efforts or his affection. Elric had taught him order and control, yet Galen had gravitated to the teachings of his true parents, chaos and destruction.
Again, he turned his mind away, left his packing, went out. The corridors were crowded, the mages still anxiously discussing the events of the night before. Galen kept his head down, following the regular rhythm of his footfalls. The voices of some were raised in anger; Galen refused to hear their words. As he took his twentieth step, someone grasped his shoulder. Miostro.
"My condolences," Miostro said in his powerful voice. "Elric was a great mage."
"Excuse me," Galen said, continued on his way.
Why had Blaylock called for him? Perhaps Gowen had put the pieces together. Blaylock might want Galen's help to bring him to acceptance. If he had realized the truth, though, he would not take it well. Galen didn't know what he could say to console Gowen. The truth carried no consolation.
The large hole burned through Gowen's door was covered by a piece of material hanging on the inside. It looked like a robe. Galen pressed the bell, but didn't hear it ring. He knocked on the door, pushed aside the robe, and climbed through.
Blaylock stood at the foot of Gowen's bed, his back to Galen. "I need you to take the body to the forward storage room," Blaylock said. "We will have the services together."
Galen wasn't sure to whom Blaylock spoke, or of whom. Did he mean to send Elric to the other side