than in a column like the Imperialists, they had fanned out in a wedge. On the outside, he saw the Greenwardens, which was a rarity for him; he almost never had dealings with their Guild. But they were easy to spot, wrapped as they were in living green-leafed vines that spiraled all over their bodies.
Their Guild Head, Tomas Stillwell, was a wheelchair-bound man with auburn hair and an easy smile. That smile dimmed as he turned from his companions and regarded the enemy Guilds before him.
Calder recognized the alchemists immediately, as many of them were dressed in their iconic uniform of bulging glass goggles, a thick apron, and gloves. However, not all had the appearance of alchemists. A number of them were strapped with weapons or bore glowing, exotic artifacts that had the look of Awakened objects. Hired security? Or non-alchemist employees of the Alchemist’s Guild?
The Luminian Order was disciplined and organized, with a handful of knights in silver—most of them had been deployed for security—and a great fan of Pilgrims, recognizable by their all-white attire and the silver medallions they wore on their chests.
He suddenly regretted not asking Andel more questions about his former Guild.
At the head of the Pilgrims stood their Guild Head, Jameson Allbright, a saintly old man with a fringe of white hair around a bald spot. Unlike the other Pilgrims, he wore an intricate ceremonial outfit of many colors, mostly red and gold.
Beside him was his grandson, Darius Allbright, whose body was armored and whose face was hidden in shadows beneath a hood. Calder suspected the hood was invested to hide his appearance, which had reportedly been scarred in battle against Elderspawn. It was impossible to see anything of the man’s face but darkness.
Then there were the Consultants. There were only three of them…at least, only three standing in formation next to the other Guilds. The High Council, leaders of the Guild before the recent appointment of their Head.
He had met Kerian before, a dark-skinned Heartlander woman with a thin scar down the middle of her face and her hair worn in dozens of braids. She bowed when she saw his eyes move over her, a professionally pleasant smile on her lips. He had only recently learned she was the High Gardener, leader of the Consultant assassins.
She stood next to the High Mason and High Shepherd, on whom Calder had been briefed. All three of the High Councilors wore the skintight black clothing that he had seen the Consultants wear on the Gray Island, but without the stretch of cloth over the lower half of their faces. Did that mean something?
Finally, he turned his attention to the three standing in front of all the Guilds, and his stomach flipped.
He was standing in front of Estyr Six.
She looked exactly like the statues, paintings, and stained-glass windows had described her. She was a statuesque woman with long, blonde hair and a faintly amused expression. Her hands were tucked casually into the pockets of her long, black coat that reminded him of the Blackwatch…in fact, now that he thought of it, her coat may have been the inspiration for the original Blackwatch.
Above her head, three reptilian skulls roughly the size of an alligator’s floated in lazy loops around her head. The Vessels that made her the strongest Soulbound in history.
But it wasn’t Estyr alone that made his gut churn.
To her left was Nathanael Bareius, the richest man in the world, whose slick hair and thick-rimmed glasses and tailored suit were all polished to the point of gleaming. Like the Consultants, he too wore a business smile, and his teeth were blinding white.
Calder recognized him from paintings and sketches in the news-sheets. Though Calder had spent his share of time with Guild Heads, Bareius was one that he thought of more as a myth than a man.
At least Jorin and Loreli were gone. Latest intelligence suggested that the other two Regents were putting out fires elsewhere in the Empire, for which he was grateful.
And then there was Shera.
She was dressed very differently than when he’d seen her last. Her black outfit had been traded in for pale gray, with a gray hood hanging down so that it shaded the top half of her face while another gray cloth covered her mouth and nose.
He could see very little of her black hair, but her eyes were dark and fixed on him with frozen intensity. She could put a knife through his heart while wearing that expression. She had tried before.
In