By the time the first day of the alliance summit arrived, Gavin had added five more attendees: Torval Mivar, Sypara Wygoth, Carth Roshan, Lyssa Cothos, and Nathrac. The more he considered it, he soon decided they needed to be aware of what transpired, and besides, one never knew where the best solution to a problem might come from. The key to any meeting was to keep the group as small as possible so it actually achieved something, instead of just dissolving into a meet-and-greet.
Gavin smiled as he surveyed the room. Specters that served as part of Hartley’s staff for the Citadel offered refreshments as the attendees chatted among themselves, and Gavin was glad to see everyone included the dracon ambassador. Ovir wasn’t the only one who was shocked that the dracons had ended their withdrawal from the world, but at least Othron and Roth had warning ahead of time.
They occupied one of the general meeting rooms on the main floor of the Citadel, a massive circular table occupying the center of the space. Everyone—all ten of them—took up less than half the seats. No one seemed to mind, though. If anything, they enjoyed being among the first people to visit the Citadel after so long a time.
“All right, people,” Gavin said. “Let’s take our seats and get started.”
The chatter faded as people found seats around the half of the table closest to Gavin’s, with Nathrac occupying the seat directly opposite Gavin.
“I had intended this to be the first meeting of the alliance council since the death of Bellock Vanlon,” Gavin began, “but with the inclusion of the Great Houses of Tel, perhaps it would be better to call it the first meeting of the war council to reclaim Skullkeep.”
Of those sitting at the table, only Ovir didn’t look surprised.
“Besides,” Gavin continued, “Lillian Mivar and Mariana Cothos are currently carrying out a diplomatic mission on my behalf to the giants, dwarves, and elves, the other primary signatories to the old alliance. I suppose it’s difficult to have an actual alliance summit meeting if three of the members aren’t in attendance.”
When Gavin said nothing more, the dracon ambassador did. “Reclaiming the fortress of Hope’s Pass is a worthy endeavor, and on behalf of my people, I declare our full support for that goal. When were you thinking of acting?”
“That’s part of what this council will determine,” Gavin answered. “I can’t imagine we’d be able to mobilize any time soon. I mean, Vushaar is still recovering from its recent civil war, and I’m up to my neck cleaning up Tel’s government. I have proof that the Necromancer caused the Vushaari civil war; he supplied a cadre of wizards to support Ivarson. I also have proof that Leuwyn, the last King of Tel, served the Necromancer, so there’s no way to know how much of Tel’s situation is because of Leuwyn’s mismanagement or the result of directives from his master. Reclaiming Skullkeep will not be easy, and it’s something we need to be as prepared for as possible, or we’ll fail and do ourselves even more harm in the long run.”
“You raise excellent points,” Roth Thatcherson agreed. “I can tell you that Vushaar is in no way able to mount any kind of military expedition at this point. Aside from sorting out the traitors from the loyalists in the army, Ivarson’s forces and sympathizers wreaked havoc on the kingdom’s infrastructure. The bright side, though, is that we’ll be able to hide quite a bit of preparation under the guise of repair and improvement.”
The dracon ambassador’s gaze flicked between Gavin and Roth as she said, “Is any of the work needed something my people could help with? We would be happy to help with whatever is necessary to bring all of us to a state of readiness for the campaign. Training, construction, magical assistance…all this and more we could do.”
Roth nodded. “I will take that to His Majesty. Ultimately, the decision is up to him, but I thank you for the offer nonetheless.”
Discussions continued throughout the day, only stopping for the midday meal. By the end of the first day, they had both a framework and a schedule for future meetings established, and absent any further actionable information, they decided one day was sufficient for the first meeting.
After seeing everyone home, Gavin returned to his study, pleased with what they’d accomplished.
* * *
Mariana surveyed their road-side camp, or at least what was left of it after preparing to resume their journey. All the time they’d spent in Vushaar’s capital had dulled the memory of just what overland travel was like.
“So,” Mariana said as she swung herself into the saddle, “why aren’t we teleporting back to Tel Mivar or even Tel Cothos each night to sleep in an actual, honest-to-goodness bed?”
Lillian blinked and looked over the remains of their camp. “You know, that’s a good question. There shouldn’t be any reason we couldn’t, aside from a lack of familiarity with where we stop for the evening. Even then, I’d think we ought to be able to create a teleport beacon that we could leave on the ground somewhere.”
Mariana rolled her shoulders. “I don’t know about you, but my back and shoulders are not fans of sleeping on the ground. How do we go about creating a teleport beacon?”
“I don’t really know, honestly. The only reason I know such a thing exists is that the foyer at the College has one. It’s that massive sigil where the Grand Stair meets the main floor.”
“Of course,” Mariana groaned. “I want to recreate something originally made by Kirloth. That’ll never happen.”
“Mari, you know what Gavin would say if he heard you talking like that,” Lillian said. She crouched to retrieve a stone they’d chosen not to use as part of their fire pit. It was too flat and small for that, but it could be just what they needed for a teleport beacon. Grabbing another rock, Lillian used it to scratch out a rendition of the Glyph of Mivar. It was by no means high art, but the image was recognizable at least. Then she retrieved a small knife from a sheath hanging from her belt and nicked her thumb just enough to draw a small drop of blood, which she rubbed across the stone’s surface, over the glyph she’d scratched.
The final step was the most challenging. Having never created a teleport beacon before or even really knowing what one felt like through a person’s skathos, all Lillian had to work from was her intent. She cleared her mind of all thoughts, doubts, and even stray images, focusing solely on her desire for the stone she held to resonate with her wherever it was to serve as a destination for teleportation. Once she felt her focus was sufficient, she invoked the Word of Transmutation most often used for teleporting, “Paedryx.”
Lillian felt her power flare as the stone in her hand warmed. The stone seemed to absorb the blood she’d smeared on it, and her rough etching of the Glyph of Mivar shifted and squirmed until it was an exact duplicate of the glyph at the center of her medallion. And what’s more…she felt the stone; it was almost like the resonant echo of a city’s bell.
“Well, we might as well test it,” Lillian said, walking around her horse to approach Mariana. “Here.” She tossed the stone to her friend. “I’m going to teleport to my family estate. After I’m gone, toss the stone somewhere, and I’ll try to open a gateway directly to it.”
Mariana stared at the stone almost as if it were a snake that would bite her. “You realize how crazy that sounds, right? I mean, what if you’re wrong?”
Lillian shrugged. “If I’m wrong, I’ll just teleport back to you. If the invocation to teleport to the stone fails or doesn’t feel right, I won’t do it. So, are you ready?”
Mariana sighed, shrugging. “Sure, why not? It’s not like you might die or anything.”
“Have a little faith, Mariana,” Lillian countered, a grin spreading across her face. “You’ll see.”
With that, the next Duchess of Mivar created a gateway to her family home and stepped through it, vanishing. Mariana wasted no time in tossing the stone a few yards farther down the road, then calmly sat atop her horse, waiting. Mere heartbeats later, an archway of crackling energy rose out of the ground, centered right on the stone she’d tossed, and as soon as it was large eno
ugh to accommodate a person, it flashed and became a gateway to another place. Lillian stepped through and allowed the gateway to vanish, then retrieved the stone.
“Well,” Lillian said as she walked back to her horse, “I do believe we have a teleport beacon. Want to sleep in your room tonight?”
Mariana nodded rather emphatically. “Yes, and I wouldn’t mind a bath, either. I wonder why Gavin never thought of doing something like this when we were traveling to Vushaar.”
“He probably didn’t realize a teleport beacon was a thing,” Lillian replied. “For that matter, he could’ve just had Kiri focus on her memories of home and teleported us straight to the palace complex, like he did from that slaver camp he destroyed.”
“But,” Mariana countered, “if he had done any of that, we might never have known Kiri’s grandfather needed help or that the dracons needed help with the sky, either. Beyond that, we don’t know how much power it would’ve taken Gavin to teleport all of us to the Vushaari capital from Tel Mivar; it might have killed him. Plus, we wouldn’t have met Elayna and Sarres, either.”
Lillian nodded. “There is that. So, was sleeping on the ground worth it now?”
“When we were going to Vushaar? Yes. Now? Not so much. There is nothing between us and the giant capital,” Mariana replied. “Absolutely nothing. Since we have the option to sleep in our beds each night, there’s no reason not to take advantage of it.”
Lillian swung herself up into her saddle, fighting to keep from laughing at her friend’s rationalization. There was also the fact that Gavin and everyone else would have missed out on the sheer beauty of the countryside they had traveled through, but compared to helping Elayna and Sarres, the dracons, and Kiri’s grandfather, beautiful countryside was a very distant fourth.
“Any thoughts on what we can expect when we reach the giants’ capital?” Lillian asked as they headed out.
Mariana shrugged. “There’s no way to know, really. Traditionally, the giants have been very heavily invested in the arts…music, visual art, performance art, you name it. They were also very active within the Society, too. That faded, though, as the royal family gradually shifted Tel away from welcoming non-humans. I think the giant who’s a member of the Council is the only one still active in the Society anymore.”
“All the damage the royal family did to Tel and our relationships with the other races is…well, both sad and infuriating,” Lillian remarked. “There’s no telling what we would’ve achieved by now if we still cooperated like we used to.”
“I know,” Mariana agreed, “but we’re helping Gavin repair all of that. Yes, it’s terrible that we’ve lost so much ground, as it were, but a friend told me not too long ago that I should have faith. So, I might as well have faith that things will get better, too.”
Lillian returned Mariana’s smirk with one of her own.
Chapter 26
Days passed, and Lyssa eventually stopped laughing at her daughter for teleporting back home to spend each night in a bed. Torval and Adelaide welcomed extra time with Lillian, wanting very much to get to know the woman their granddaughter had become. Granted, Lillian was only a year older—plus or minus—but sometimes a person’s age is more about the sum of his or her experiences than solely a sum of years.
The giants’ capital had grown out of a settlement around a quarry complex. The clay and stone of the region possessed an impressive range of pigmentation, and the giants used it in all manner of projects from pottery to sculpture. Much to the chagrin of elders who desired a more dignified ambiance for the seat of their government, the capital’s citizenry refused to abandon the city’s historical name.
“Welcome to Pretty Rock,” Mariana read the banner arching over the city’s gate. A more temporary banner hung under it, which Mariana also read: “The Spring Festival of 6082 welcomes you!”
Lillian fought the urge to grin. “I forgot that the giants’ capital was named Pretty Rock. But what’s this about a spring festival?”
“You know as much as I do,” Mariana replied, gesturing at the two signs.
The ladies approached the gate, where a giant stood at each side of the entrance to the city. Each guard wore chainmail hauberks over padded leather armor. In addition to a blade that would’ve been a great sword for anyone else, they each leaned on halberds sized to fit their massive frames.
“Please, state your names and business,” the giant on Lillian’s left said, his tone and overall demeanor one of tired boredom. At least astride their horses, Lillian didn’t have to crane her neck; Lillian and Mariana faced the gate guards at their eye-level.
“Lillian Mivar and Mariana Cothos on a diplomatic mission from the Archmagister of Tel,” Lillian answered.
The guards shared a look before the one on Mariana’s right said, “Are you girlies having us on? Tel doesn’t have an Archmagister, hasn’t for centuries.”
Lillian leaned back and reached into the left saddlebag. She rummaged for a bit before producing the folio that contained the letter of introduction and remit as ambassadors empowered to exercise Gavin’s full authority in his stead.
“Here,” Lillian said, extending the folio to the guard closest to her.
He leaned his halberd against the stone wall that defended the city and accepted the folio. He fumbled with it a bit, but soon, it was right-side-up and looked like a small children’s journal in his hand. The moment his thumb brushed the seal Gavin had stamped into the document, the lettering flashed, and a half-scale image of Gavin in the gold robe of his office appeared in front of the guard.
“Greetings,” Gavin’s image said, “I am Gavin Cross, Head of House Kirloth and newly named Archmagister of Tel. The ladies bearing this folio of papers—Lillian Mivar and Mariana Cothos—travel to your lands at my behest, and I certify them as ambassadors for the purpose of their visit with full authority and trust to speak in my name. I ask that you welcome them as you would welcome me and hope we can rebuild the friendship Tel once enjoyed with its fellow members of the old alliance. Thank you.”
The gate guard swayed on his feet for a moment, then turned to his fellow guard. “They’re legitimate. We need to pass them.”
“Are you well?” the other guard asked. “Did whatever that was mess with your mind?”
“No. Here, you try it.”
The guard on Mariana’s right shook his head. “No, thank you. I’m just fine.” The guard turned to Mariana. “The city’s a bit busy, what with the festival and all. Chieftain’s Seat is at the very center of town; you’ll meet with Chieftain there, and your best chance for finding an inn with a room will be near the north gate. Most of the activities and events are in the southern half the city, and we have a bunch of lazy mugs running the festival this year.”
“Thank you,” Mariana replied. By then, Lillian had returned the folio to her saddlebag. Mariana nodded once to Lillian, and they nudged their horses to a trot almost in unison.
The gate they passed through was at the southeast corner of the city, and not thirty yards inside, the streets and thoroughfares were packed like the markets of Tel Mivar on a busy day. Tel Mivar, at least, was sized to accommodate all the traffic. Even with everything scaled up to fit its inhabitants, the throngs of people gave that area of Pretty Rock a congested, overpopulated feel.
“We should probably see about securing a room first,” Lillian remarked, her expression showing dismay as she scanned the almost wall-to-wall people before them.
Mariana nodded her agreement. “I’d say we should hurry, but I don’t think we can move any faster than a walk without risking trampling people.”
They spent nearly an hour working their way toward the northern end of the city, but soon, they found an inn with two rooms available. They paid for two weeks, just in case, and visited their rooms. It wasn’t really a surprise to find that everything was sized for giants, which meant the beds were very roomy for Lillian and Mariana.
Lillian draped her saddlebags over the back of the chair in her r
oom and retrieved the folio just as someone knocked on her door. “Yes? Come in!”
The door opened to reveal Mariana, her lips curling into a smile. “Well, I feel like I’m a child sleeping in my parents’ bed again.”
“You, too?” Lillian agreed. “I don’t think we should do the teleport beacon when we’re actually in the city. It might seem like we don’t want to stay overnight here, and besides, what little I could see of the festival looked interesting.”
Mariana nodded. “Oh, yes, I agree completely. Now that we’re here, I certainly don’t want to risk offending anyone by popping off to Tel Cothos each night.”
“Are you settled in?”
“As settled as I can be, I guess. At least they had stepping blocks for us little people to get into the bed.”
Lillian turned and looked toward her bed. Sure enough, there was a stepping block shaped into the form of a three-step staircase in the nook created by the nightstand and the head of the bed. “Well, that’s nice of them. So, want to try scheduling a meeting with the Chieftain?”
“We probably should.”
Lillian held up her left hand, brandishing the folio Gavin had given them, and they left. Locking the door was a bit interesting, but Lillian just managed it.
* * *
“Milord,” Hartley said, drawing Gavin’s attention, “a Miss Holly Walsh desires to speak with you. She seems a bit distressed.”
Gavin looked up from the sheaf of documents in his hand and those strewn across the desk in front of him. “Who? Oh, Holly. She’s distressed?”
“It could simply be that she’s nervous about being in the Citadel, Milord, but I don’t think so.”
“Holly is one of my apprentices,” Gavin replied, “and I’m happy to see her now. I’ve spent so much time today with the tax laws, it feels like my eyes are starting to cross.”
Hartley nodded once, saying, “Very good, sir.”
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