William, high priest of the master, was the first to sense it.
Something was amiss.
Something beside the obvious. Never mind the trivial business of pointless lives lost in New Orleans. Something was amiss with the master.
It was connected to New Orleans, or at least to Katrina, he was sure. The master had not been seen since the storm reached its closest to his refuge, nearly a week before it ever reached New Orleans.
There was a connection. There had to be. But why would the master choose to leave at that time? Why would he take that risk?
William shook his head to clear it of his brooding. He pressed the intercom button on his desk. If the master was missing, his servants would need to find him. If he did not wish to be found, well, so be it, but right now, William was considering the very real possibility that the storm had injured the master. That the master might need their help in ways beyond mere faith. To fail him at this time was unthinkable.
The master was missing; the master would be found. That was all that mattered.
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