Ozzo shifted his weight, irritated. He had waited patiently for them. He had given them a tour. He had been the best host that he could have been.
In return, they had slain his friends.
Ozzo started pacing back and forth in the dark. He felt unprotected now that the door was gone. They had done that too when they made their escape, although Ozzo couldn’t fathom how. The entire gatehouse appeared to be destroyed, almost as if a giant boulder had rolled straight through it.
Ozzo stopped his pacing and looked down into the pool again. How curious of the pool they had been. What did they think was down there, what was so important?
Ozzo thought he might know what they sought. The man from the capital, the one who created his friends, he had stopped here before he left that night.
Ozzo decided to go for a swim.