Thunder crashes as the carved doors of the lich’s castle are flung open. Undead servants grouse and grumble as they line the walkway, standing like rotting footmen in oily livery. Horton hurries out into the rain, and soon an ebony carriage stands ready, Horton perched uneasily atop it. The magnificent vehicle is drawn by two black horses, looking much like the “men” attendant to Cang.
Inside the warmth of the castle, the gang stares into the bleak night. From behind them, Cang says, “Friends, surely we must be away if we’re to make our appointment. The lateness of the hour is such that even those of refinement—” here, gesturing to himself “—have typically already eaten.” A faint purple glow creeps into his narrowed eyes. “You’ll find my patience wears when I grow hungry.”
Fassn launches into action, holding a tanned seikum pelt over Cang’s head, and walking him like a dignitary out to the carriage. Fassn holds the door open for Cang to enter. After shutting it behind him, he throws a look of panic to Shyan and Abia. Shyan shrugs, and they hurry to the carriage.