ludo
Ludo watched, and it listened, and it waited. Its presence was like that of a judge, jury and executioner, and when it spoke there was no small amount of distaste in its tone. "You," it all but drawled, "a shepherd of lost souls." The mask seemed to laugh, for a flicker of a moment, before the expression smoothed once more to nothing.
"Doors have keys," it said, like Remi may have missed that. "One has nothing to fear from a locked door when one has the key inside. Perhaps you could search, sweetling. But you will find no light from me. Petition Safrin for her baubles if you like - my question remains thus: why do you pray to tell me this? What favour is it that you intend to curry now? You are wasting your time."
"Doors have keys," it said, like Remi may have missed that. "One has nothing to fear from a locked door when one has the key inside. Perhaps you could search, sweetling. But you will find no light from me. Petition Safrin for her baubles if you like - my question remains thus: why do you pray to tell me this? What favour is it that you intend to curry now? You are wasting your time."
