"Hm?" a distracted voice came, dark and hollow.
The chair creeked as the figure turned in it to look at her. An emaciated figure, chill and wrinked and leather, was it even alive.
"Not now, girl," he said, "I'll come see you all when I finish this book." With a distracted wave of his hand, a light swallowed Tiran up. She had a brief sensation of falling, then lay at the base of the tower.