First Magister Talvin appeared on the beach, his robes and stole fluttering in the wind. In his left hand he held his staff of office, and his right a leather satchel. He walked towards Rachaelis, the pebbles crunching beneath his boots.
Maerwulf looked at Talvin, and relief flooded over his face.
“Master,” said Maerwulf, “master, aid me.”
Rachaelis blinked.
Master?
Talvin’s expression twisted in disgust.
“Master,” said Maerwulf, “I did as you commanded me, I brought her…no! No! Please, no!”
Talvin pointed. Maerwulf just had time to shriek, and then Talvin's astralfire drilled into him. A moment later Maerwulf's headless corpse slumped to the ground, smoke rising from the charred crater that had once been his neck.
“Useless idiot,” muttered Talvin, shaking his head.
“First Magister?” said Rachaelis. “Why…did he call you Master?”
Talvin lilted his head to the side, as if listening to a voice. “I gave him every chance, didn’t I? It was supposed to have been orderly. He was to have taken the girl quietly, without a mess, without raising an alarm. Instead she fights off his agents, and I wind up with a pitched battle in the docks! An idiot. Little wonder you rejected him as a vessel for all those years.”
“Damn it,” said Rachaelis. “What are you talking about?”
Talvin sighed, and looked up at her.
“You haven’t figured it out already?” he said.
But it wasn’t his voice.
She saw his lips move, saw him draw breath to speak, but it wasn’t his voice.
It was a woman’s voice. One of unearthly beauty and melody. Yet it sounded…alien, somehow, and the every sound made all the hair on the back of Rachaelis’s neck stand up.
“You see, child,” said Talvin in his own voice. “Paulus was the eldest member of the Conclave, the wisest, the most experienced.”
Rachaelis backed away from him.
“It was Paulus,” said the beautiful, alien voice, “who saw the wisdom of making contact with me, of drawing me into this world.”
“He continued his research for years without anyone being the wiser,” said Talvin. “But it was your father who discovered him. Ironically enough.”
“And so Paulus was slain,” said the alien voice. “Yet my plans needed to continue. I required a new host.”
“And who better,” said Talvin, “than Paulus’s best student?”
That voice, Rachaelis realized. That beautiful voice belonged to the high demon. The high demon that Maerwulf had worshipped, the high demon that had possessed Paulus.
All her life, she had known First Magister Talvin, but yet she had never really known him at all.
“You’re an Urmaaghsk,” she whispered. That explained how the first Urthaag had gotten past the Ring's wards. That explained how Maerwulf had found them at the Red Water Inn.
Talvin had betrayed them.
Talvin’s mouth twisted. “That fails to describe the nature of my...state. I have evolved. I have moved beyond the limits of humanity, the limits of an Adept. But, yes, the Jurgurs would call me an Urmaaghsk.”
“What,” said Rachaelis, “did you do to my father?”
Talvin smiled, and the high demon’s voice came from his lips. “You are valiant. Good. That strength will serve me well.”
“What did you do with my father?” shouted Rachaelis.
“Not to worry,” said the high demon, “you’ll be with him soon enough.”
Rachaelis started to cast astralfire, but Talvin was faster. He gestured, and his will, stronger than iron, seized Rachaelis in its grasp. Rachaelis just had time to scream, and then she could not move at all. Magister Arthain was strong. Maerwulf had been strong. But Talvin’s will was stronger than them both.
Of course, he had the strength of a high demon to back up his power.
“Fear not, Rachaelis,” murmured Talvin, stepping towards her. “Your sacrifice will be for the good of the Conclave, and for the good of the world.”
He waved his hand, and everything went black.
Chapter 7 - The Final Soul
Rachaelis awoke suspended in darkness.
She tried to move, but Talvin’s will held he motionless. She tried to summon power, but something disrupted her concentration, broke the flow of power. A cold metal collar rested against her neck. Aurelium, she realized, to suppress her magical abilities.
She opened her eyes and looked around.
She floated a few feet above the floor in a vast stone hall. It was the final chamber of the Testing, where she had encountered the greater demon masquerading as her father. Now a stone altar rested upon the dais, and Talvin cast spells it, drawing lines of silver flame upon the stone.
He looked up and blinked.
“She’s awake,” said Talvin, frowning.
“She is strong,” said the high demon through Talvin’s mouth. “Just as we require, yes?”
Talvin nodded and resumed his work.
“What are you doing?” said Rachaelis.
He gave no answer.
“Are you insane, cooperating with a high demon?” said Rachaelis. “Or are you just a fool?”
Talvin looked up, anger flashing over his face. “I am not insane.”
Rachaelis scoffed. “Letting a high demon possess you is fine evidence of that.”
“I am only doing what is necessary,” said Talvin. "Like any Adept."
He reached into his satchel and drew out a pair of glowing blue crystals. Rachaelis recognized them from his study. He put the two glowing crystals at the head of the altar. He reached into a satchel and drew out the third crystal, the dark one. He placed it at the foot of the altar and stepped back.
“Necessary,” said Rachaelis. “Why?”
“I am going to save the world,” said Talvin.
Rachaelis laughed. “Yes. Not insane at all.”
Talvin glared at her. “It is necessary. You’ve seen how corrupt the Conclave has become, how decadent and useless.” A glimmer of red fire showed in his cold blue eyes. “It is the Conclave’s task to lead and order the world. And look at the world. Nothing but chaos and bloodshed and anarchy. Hundreds of thousands died in the Jurgur invasion. And still the nations of the West wage petty wars against each other! A strong Conclave could avert this, could ensure that no one starved, that cruel kings did not abuse their people. The world needs a strong Conclave to lead it.”
“And what does that have to do with the high demon?” said Rachaelis.
“I have seen hundreds of Initiates pass through this chamber,” said Talvin. “Some survived the Testing, as you did. Some did not. But not one of them was strong enough to do what was necessary, strong enough to take command of a disordered, chaotic world, to bring order and stability. And then I realized the Conclave’s entire philosophy was wrong.”
“How?” said Rachaelis.
Talvin spread his arms. “We bring Initiates here to test them against demons. They must resist the demon or die. But what if we are wrong? What if the demons are something to be embraced, rather than shunned? The Conclave requires power, Rachaelis, the power to bring the world to order. Demons can provide that power. What if each Initiate was possessed by a demon, instead of struggling against it? We could produce Adepts of tremendous power, power enough to do what is necessary.”
“You don’t need me for that,” said Rachaelis.
“No,” said Talvin. “But the Conclave will not see reason. The Magisters would reject my plan out of hand. So I’m going to make the choice for them.”
“How?” said Rachaelis. “You’re going to kill them?”
“No,” said Talvin. “I’m going to possess every single one of them with a demon. Every last Adept. Once they taste firsthand the power a demon can bring…they will see the truth. Then a new Conclave will be born, one that can take its proper place in the world.”
“That’s impossible,” said Rachaelis. “Even yo
ur high demon doesn’t have the power to possess every single Adept.”
“I do not,” said the alien voice. “But, then, I do not need that power.”
“Not once I rip open the barrier between the astral realm and the mortal world,” said Talvin.
“You…you cannot be serious,” said Rachaelis. “That is insane.”
“No, it is not,” said Talvin. “The ritual will tear open the barrier, and demons will enter Araspan freely. They will possess every last Adept, and the Conclave will see the true nature of power.”
“But you’ll destroy Araspan,” said Rachaelis. “You’ll kill everyone in the city.”
Talvin shrugged. “A necessary sacrifice for a better future. The city is a cesspit, anyway. No great loss.”
“But even with a high demon, you don’t have the power to rip open the barrier between the worlds,” said Rachaelis.
“No,” said Talvin. He smiled. “And that is why I need you. And why I needed your father, and why I needed Solthain Kalarien.”
He walked to the altar and touched one of the glowing crystals.
“The mages of the Old Empire knew the ritual,” said Talvin. “A spell to rip open the barrier, and to allow demons to enter the world in great numbers. Of course, they botched it and destroyed themselves, which is why demons can possess the corpses of the slain after a sunrise and a sunset. The ritual was lost.”
“But I remembered it,” said the high demon. “I was there when the mages destroyed themselves. And I remember their secrets.”
“The ritual requires three souls,” said Talvin. “The souls of mages of surpassing power. The first, Solthain Kalarien.” He touched the glowing crystal on the left. “Paulus ripped his soul from his flesh and imprisoned it in this crystal during the battle.”
“Did you destroy his body?” said Rachaelis.
“No,” said Talvin. “That would have killed him in truth, and permitted his soul to depart. No, we…hid his body.” A ghastly smile spread over his face. “Underneath this very altar, in fact. For twelve years Arthain Kalarien has mourned his eldest son. And in all that time, it never once occurred to him that his son’s body lies underneath this altar, and that his son’s soul sits in a crystal in my study. He has stood in this room hundreds of times, and in my study thousands!” He burst out laughing, his voice ringing over the vast chamber. “And he never had the slightest notion!”
“That’s monstrous,” said Rachaelis. “I suppose you were laughing at me the entire time, too, when I went to visit my father.”
“Yes,” said Talvin, eyes glittering. The hellish light behind his pupils had gotten brighter. “Fool girl, mourning for your father, and never dreaming that his spirit lay just within reach. Aramane slew Paulus with his own hand. So the high demon passed to me, and I ambushed Aramane, stole his soul, and escaped before the rest of the Conclave arrived.” He grimaced. “And then for twelve years I waited. I need a third soul, and no one else in the Conclave had the raw potential of Aramane Morulan and Solthain Kalarien. But I watched you, watched your strength grow…and when you survived the Testing, I knew. You would be the third soul I required.”
“You’re an idiot,” said Rachaelis.
Talvin's eyes narrowed.
“You really think the high demon wants to help you build a better world?” said Rachaelis. “It only wants pain and misery and torment it can feed upon. You do that ritual, the demons will possess the Adepts and go on a rampage. You won’t get your orderly world. You’ll get something much worse than the world we have now.”
“A narrow vision,” said Talvin. “I almost wish I could see you possessed. A demon fused to your raw strength…that would have been sight to behold.” He shrugged. “But, instead, your soul shall fuel the spell to open the astral realm. That shall be your contribution to building a new world.”
Rachaelis growled and struggled, but his will held her fast, and the aurelium collar disrupted her powers.
“If I get the chance,” she said, “I’ll kill you for what you did to my father.”
“You won’t,” said Talvin, and turned away.
Chapter 8 - The Link
“What do you mean,” said Corthain, “you don’t know where she is?”
The battle was over. The Jurgurs had been slaughtered, the Urthaags destroyed, and the blood shamans slain. Maerwulf’s sanctum had started to disintegrate, and Corthain had withdrawn the Swords back to the street before the place had collapsed entirely.
Twenty-seven Swords had been killed, with thirty-two taking wounds of varying severity.
It could have been a lot worse.
Except, of course, that they had lost the woman they were trying to protect.
“I mean what I say,” growled Arthain. “I don’t know where she is. Maerwulf opened a rift and fled. The fool girl chased after him before I could recover.”
“She and Maerwulf are almost certainly still on the Isle of Aras somewhere,” said Thalia. “I think those rifts of Maerwulf’s are subject to the same sort of limitations as astraljumping. Maerwulf, on his own, wouldn’t have enough power to go more than thirty or forty miles.”
“Unless he was using stolen blood to boost his abilities,” said Corthain.
Thalia shrugged. “Even then, I don’t think he could have gotten to the mainland. He’s got to be on the Isle of Aras.”
“I think that Maerwulf is likely dead,” said Sister Maria.
Corthain frowned. He had known that the old woman could fight, but he had not been prepared for how well she could fight. She had been a terror on the battlefield, and killed at least three apprentice blood shamans with that mace of hers. Her aurelium-banded armor had deflected their blood spells, and she had simply strolled up and killed them.
Little wonder the Adepts feared the Inquisitors.
“Really,” said Arthain. “And on what evidence do you base your beliefs, Sister?”
Maria ignored the barb. “Despite the damage Magister Arthain did to the sanctum, it should have lasted for several hours longer. Yet if Maerwulf were slain, it would start to dissolve back into the astral realm at once. As did happen, a few minutes after Rachaelis and Maerwulf vanished through the rift.”
“So she killed Maerwulf,” said Thalia. “She won.”
Corthain let out a long breath. “Or they’re both dead. If Maerwulf was panicked, he might have miscalculated, opened his rift over the edge of a cliff or something. Or even five miles straight up, for all we know.”
“Do you have some magical means of contacting her?” said Sister Maria.
Arthain grimaced. “We do not. The rift disrupted her connection to Nazim’s thoughtmeld.”
Or her death did, but Corthain did not speak the thought aloud.
“It is the great weakness of the High Art,” said Arthain. “The High Art simply does not possess spells to easily locate people. Though there are methods of doing so.”
“Such as?” said Corthain.
“If we had an objected that she had enchanted herself, personally,” said Arthain, “then we could use that to astraljump to her location. Every Adept leaves a unique…echo, for lack of a better word, upon an enchanted object created at his or her own hand. If she’s within range of an astraljump, we could use that to find her location. I understand Thalia and Rachaelis tried something similar with the amulet you took from Anna Marinius.”
“Rachaelis’s rooms at the Ring,” said Thalia. “She made those spelllamps herself. If we…”
Arthain shook his head. “Those enchantments are minor. We would need something significant.”
Corthain frowned. “Like her sicarr?”
Arthain snorted. “Yes, that would be ideal.” He touched the dagger at his waist. “Were her sicarr not still sheathed at her belt.”
“Actually,” said Corthain, drawing the sicarr, “I have it here.”
They stared at him.
“You do?” said Arthain. “Why?”
“She gave it to me,” said Corthain. “A
gift, for saving her life.” Assuming that he hadn’t led her here to be killed.
Arthain’s eyes widened. Corthain could not recall ever seeing his father so surprised.
“She gave it to you?” said Arthain.
“Yes,” said Corthain.
“She…actually gave you her sicarr,” said Thalia.
“Yes,” repeated Corthain. “I tried to talk her out of it, but she insisted that she could simply make another. Why? Was that…significant?”
“Incredibly,” said Thalia. “A sicarr is a very…personal item. Every Initiate makes one, one of their final tasks as an Initiate, and if they survive the Testing they receive it back. For her to give it to you, that’s…that’s quite a gesture.”
“I see,” said Corthain.
It was just as well that Luthair was with the Swords. If he had overhead this, he would have laughed himself sick.
“Fine,” said Corthain. “I have the sicarr. How do we use it to find her?”
“Give it to me,” said Thalia, and Corthain handed it over. She wrapped both hands around the handle, closed her eyes, and started whispering. Silver light flashed, shimmering around her hands like rippling water, and Thalia’s eyes shot open.
“You found her?” said Corthain.
“It’s…not far,” said Thalia, looking up. “Near the Ring. In fact, I think she might be…in the Ring? It’s hard to tell.”
“Can you astraljump us there?” said Magister Nazim.
“Yes,” said Thalia. “If you lend me your power, I can get all three of us there.”
“I’m coming as well,” said Corthain.
He had told Rachaelis he would keep her safe, and by the Divine he was not going to back out of that promise.
“As you wish,” said Arthain.
Corthain turned to Maria. “Tell the Sword-Captains to take the Jurgur corpses to the crematoriums; I don’t want any ghouls rampaging through the streets. After that, they’re to march to the Ring.”
“As you will, Lord Corthain.” She hesitated. “And may the Divine watch over you. You are undoubtedly going into great danger.”
“If Maerwulf is still alive, Sister,” said Arthain, “we shall show him the folly of crossing the Conclave.”
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