Pug motioned for Amirantha and Sandreena to take the two empty seats and he remained standing. ‘Those of you who know one another need no introductions. If you do not recognize others, it is best it remain that way, given our current plight. You cannot be made to reveal what you do not need to know.’ He took a deep breath. ‘So far we have identified five well-placed agents of the Conclave who are traitors. I am certain there will be more. Continue to conduct your investigations; trust is scarce right now, use it wisely.’ He motioned to the man closest to him on his right and said, ‘What have you discovered in Roldem?’
The man quickly recounted the efforts that were underway in Roldem to prevent further leaking of information, and to discover who might be behind the actions taken against the Conclave. He finished by saying, ‘At this time we have no more likely suspect than Lord John Worthington. He is either at the top of all actions taken against the interest of both the Crown and the Conclave, or he reports to the ultimate authority.’
Before Pug could move to the next in line, a man sitting farthest from him interjected, ‘I know I speak out of turn, Pug, but that is almost the identical report that I have put together concerning Great Kesh. The man who stands out as the most likely suspect is a nephew of the Emperor, Lord Harfum.’
Instantly, Grand Master Creegan said, ‘Sir William Alcorn.’ He looked around the table. ‘It is the same in Rillanon.’
Pug nodded. ‘So, our first priority must be to discover what links these three men.’ He indicated that the first two men should depart, but added, ‘Grand Master Creegan, remain if you would.’
The remaining agents quickly provided Pug with more information on issues pertaining to the attempts to identify possible spies within the Academy as well as in various less-critical positions of influence and authority. As each finished delivering their report, Pug nodded and the agent rose and left the table. When the last had departed, Pug turned and looked at the three remaining members of the Conclave.
‘Creegan,’ he said, ‘you’re our eyes and ears in the temples. Anything?’
Sandreena’s former mentor sighed. ‘In truth, not much. If anything the temples are more difficult to infiltrate than even the Conclave, for the gods are very jealous of their domains. Several of the martial orders, however, seem to have been slightly compromised: no ordained member is suspected, but a few key servants, or lay administrators, have been weeded out as being undependable. Those identified are being questioned.’
‘Which orders?’ Sandreena asked.
‘The more active groups: the Warders, the Hunters, the Arm, and the Hammer.’
Pug seemed to wilt visibly at the list, and Sandreena said, ‘If they infiltrated any significant level of those orders, they are dangerous indeed.’
‘Exceedingly dangerous,’ said Creegan. Seeing that Amirantha didn’t quite follow, he added, ‘Of course, you’d know the gods and perhaps those orders by different names in your homeland.’ He held up a hand and began ticking them off on each finger. ‘The Warders of Law serve Astalon the god of law, the Hunters are followers of Guis-wa the god of forbidden knowledge, the Arm of Vengeance serve Kahooli the Vengeful, and the Hammer serves Tith-Onanka, the war god. Many of these, especially the Arm and the Hunters are overt enemies, and would never knowingly work together.’
‘I see, and the Shield?’ Amirantha looked pointedly at Creegan.
‘Our order is one that takes great pains in examining those we employ within the temples; magic is used to determine if those who come to serve have duplicity in their hearts. And unlike some of the other orders, we require our own members to conduct the daily business of the Order, the cooking, cleaning, and maintaining the temples, shrines, and our places of residence. Some of the other orders do not. The Hammer and the Hunters feel that every member must be a warrior-priest, and to concentrate solely on those duties they hire many to serve who are not of the Order. Therein lies their vulnerability. We have been working through the Ishapians, as much as we can, but it got the leadership’s attention and so far no new infiltrators have been found. The other orders listen to the Ishapians, but they do not like it.’
‘They’ll like seeing their world in ruins at the feet of the Dread even less.’
Creegan glanced at Amirantha, nodded to Sandreena, then turned and departed.
Pug said, ‘Now, if you have that orb Magnus gave you, I’d like to return and see what he is doing.’ With a wry grin, he added, ‘I think I could return there from what I remember, but why chance it?’
‘Shall we go back with you?’ asked Sandreena.
‘No, rest for a few days. You’ve been travelling a great deal. I’ll return with Magnus when it’s time.’
Amirantha retrieved the orb from his tunic pocket and gave it to Pug. Pug said, ‘See you soon,’ depressed the switch on the side and vanished.
Amirantha yawned. ‘After that meal, I’m in the mood for a nap. Care to join me?’ he asked Sandreena with a smile.
‘Those days are long over, you fraud,’ she said. Then she smiled. ‘Rest, and I’ll see you for dinner if you’d like.’
‘I would like that a great deal,’ he said, and was surprised to find he meant it. ‘Dinner, then.’
Sandreena turned and walked away and he watched her go and thought to himself that of all the women he had met and bedded, she was the one he could never get out of his head. With a sign of resignation, he turned and headed to his own quarters.
Pug appeared next to his son. Magnus was obviously in some sort of trance, as he sat ignoring the drizzling rain that had soaked him to the skin despite the best efforts of a Pantathian holding what appeared to be a makeshift umbrella over him. Which meant he had been there for a long time. Knowing his son, Pug judged it had probably been since early this morning. While it was summer in the north, it was winter here and this far south the rain was turning bitterly cold.
At the sight of Pug the Pantathian almost dropped the umbrella and said in clearly-understandable Keshian, ‘Oh, you startled me!’
Pug waved his hand. ‘Apologies. Here, let me take that from you.’
The reptilian creature seemed relieved. ‘He awoke before dawn and has been here since breaking his fast; this is his second day and we are unwilling to disturb him.’
Pug reached out gently with his magic and then withdrew. ‘You could probably hit him on the head with a rock and it wouldn’t disturb him,’ he said, taking the umbrella. As soon as he had hold of it he realized that despite the good intentions of the Pantathian, the gusting wind almost entirely defeated the effectiveness of the thing. Even so, he held it over his son.
‘I am La’th,’ said the Pantathian. ‘I will inform Tak’ka that you are here. I am sure he will wish to welcome you himself.’
As the creature departed, Pug reflected on how ironic it should be to be welcomed by any sort of Pantathian. For his entire adult life all the ones he had ever encountered had been trying their best to obliterate humanity.
While he waited, Pug inspected the tableau. Magnus sat on a soggy cushion facing an oval of energy floating about three feet above the ground. Seeing it and the Sven-ga’ri beyond, he understood why Magnus had forgone the relatively easy task of erecting a shield of magic against the elements. It would have had to be large enough to encompass what appeared to be a massive terraced park atop the largest building in this city, which would have made deploying his other spells more problematic; or if small enough to encompass just himself, it certainly would have distorted any readings or insights gained from that examination.
Gently he sent his mind into the matrix of light before him, seeking out his son’s presence. Finding Magnus was like finding his own hand: as father and son they were attached in a way as Pug have never been to any other in his life. His lifelong friend Tomas and his departed wife, Miranda, were family of his heart, and he could find them almost as easily, but Magnus was his blood, his last remaining child.
For a brief moment that awareness struck Pug as he re
membered those children he had lost: William, his first boy, dying heroically in the defence of Krondor, and Gaminia, his adopted daughter in that same struggle. Caleb, his youngest, dying with his wife Marie, at the same time Miranda had been lost. Caleb, so strong and willing to serve, yet always the one without magic.
Pug pushed aside that pang, for he knew it led inexorably to his fear of the curse laid upon him by the Goddess of Death: that he would watch everyone he love die before him. He had foster-grandsons, Tad, Zane, and Jommy, whom he had kept at an emotional distance, fearing that to come to love them as his own would doom them. He could not honestly say if he had succeeded in keeping his affections in check.
Turning his mind away from such morbid turns, he followed his instincts to his son’s metaphorical location within the matrix and intruded slightly to let Magnus know he was there.
Father, came Magnus’s thought. I felt your presence when you arrived.
Pug marvelled at the man and sorcerer his son was becoming. Pug had known other workers of magic: Kulgan, his mentor; Shimon, Hochopepa and other Tsurani Great Ones in the Assembly of Magicians on that now-lost world. Macros and his daughter Miranda. Each had special abilities and in one thing or another surpassed the others. Kulgan was a practitioner of what was known now as the Path of Lesser Magic, a distinction made by the Tsurani. The Great Ones were known to walk the Path of Greater Magic. The Greater and Lesser Paths were pointless labels from Pug’s point of view when it came to Magnus. He was a true master of any magic he sought to learn. Even the most arcane of the arts, such as Amirantha’s demon lore, Magnus had undertaken to understand, and now he could exercise some small control over demons. And then there was his son’s ability for mind-speech, a skill shared with Pug’s adopted daughter, a skill Pug had never successfully mastered.
He said, ‘Amirantha and Sandreena have told me of your work.’ Pug felt another presence nearby and said, ‘I think our host is here. I’ll return shortly.’
He pulled his consciousness out of the matrix and turned to see an elderly Pantathian in a finely-made red robe with black trim now being thoroughly soaked by the intensifying rain. ‘Welcome back, Pug,’ the Pantathian said.
‘Thank you, Tak’ka,’ returned the sorcerer.
‘It would be false should I say that you are any more welcome here, but we understand that you and your friends are fated to be here. Too much of our blood on your hands prevents me from offering more than tolerance and a modicum of comfort.’ He glanced skyward, ‘Though from your son’s willingness to soak in this soon-to-be-freezing rain indicates to me that creature comforts are not very important.’
Pug could not hide his amusement. If the Pantathian was unaware of a human sense of humour, he was naturally wry. ‘Oh, we appreciate comforts and I welcome tolerance. Perhaps at some time in the future we may discuss our past differences, or at least mine with your more murderous kin, but for the moment Magnus’s actions communicate a sense of urgency on his part and I defer to his judgment. As for the wet and cold, we’ve endured worse, and I expect we shall come though this, though a dry towel when we are done would be most welcome.’
Pug couldn’t tell if the creature was amused or not, as he did not understand Pantathian facial expressions. But Tak’ka answered, ‘That much can be done. La’th here will remain to provide for your needs should any arise.’ Without further words, the elder Pantathian turned and left the roof garden.
Pug actually looked forward to having the opportunity to sit and speak with the apparently gentle leader of the Pantathians. He had understood so little of these created beings, these playthings of an ancient dead Dragon Lord, Alma-Lodaka, who had become a goddess to this race.
But for now, he returned his attention to his son and re-entered the matrix.
Time inside the matrix became meaningless. Pug knew they stood a real risk of passing out from exhaustion if they didn’t occasionally monitor their real-world existence. Then he wondered how he would know what constituted ‘occasionally’, given the circumstances.
He watched as Magnus probed. He had remained an observer since his son had begun this exploration, for Magnus seemed more deft at discovering his way around this analogue of an energy field than his father would be.
Pug moved within the matrix without conscious thought to where Magnus probed the massive red castle construct. He thought it must be a protective barrier, the red castle representing something that was constructed entirely of energy, and prodigious amounts of energy at that.
They had tried moving around the barrier and learned that the illusion of size and shape was misleading. There was no ‘around’ nor ‘back’. Anywhere they ceased their ‘movement’ they were still confronted by the red barrier. The more obvious choices had been to ‘look’ in one of the windows, but that had proved pointless; there was nothing beyond the ‘window’. Pug deduced that it might have been some mechanism that allowed observation from within, allowing someone or something inside the matrix to observe what Magnus and Pug were attempting. But who or what that someone or something might be was beyond their understanding.
Now Magnus was probing the ‘lock’ in the door. Pug struggled to understand the concept. Here was an energy matrix, assembled in such a way as to imply it was a communication of some sort. But it seemed protected in a fashion that whoever placed it here wanted to be sure that only a particular person or group of people might be able to decipher it. That would imply that the information was sensitive.
Pug began an investigation of his own, exploring the limits of the matrix while Magnus continued his probing of the internal barrier. When he was at last convinced he had begun to understand something of the nature of this odd artefact, he gently contacted Magnus, who withdrew.
In a blink they were both conscious of being in the rain, drenched and chilled. They hurried to the entrance to the garden and found La’th waiting, though the Pantathian seemed on the verge of sleeping. He snapped out of his doze and handed them each a towel. ‘Is there anything you require?’
Father and son glanced at one another. ‘Something hot to drink would be appreciated,’ said Pug. ‘Coffee, tea, chocha, whatever else you might have.’
‘We have tea,’ said the Pantathian and he hurried down the stairs.
‘What concerns me,’ began Pug ‘is the incalculable energy contained within that thing.’
Magnus nodded. ‘Me too. When I first began I concluded that this matrix, is somehow an extension of the Sven-ga’ri, and I’m convinced it’s their attempt to communicate with us. I just don’t understand why, after all this time, and why here, rather than up in the Peaks of the Quor?’
‘When we unlock that barrier and if we are able to communicate with these beings, then perhaps we will have those answers. As for the first, I speculate that time may be different to them, and perhaps it’s taken them this long to appreciate what manner of beings surround them, and how best to reach out to us. As to why here than there, I do not even care to speculate on that question.’
Pug fell silent as the Pantathian returned with two mugs of hot tea. It was bitter and flavourful and warming and they were both grateful to have it. ‘How are you doing with that barrier?’
Magnus sipped his tea and Pug studied his son for a moment. Unlike his eldest son, William, who bore a strong resemblance to Pug, or like his youngest son Caleb, who had resembled his mother, Magnus barely resembled either of his parents, though Pug could see hints of Miranda around the eyes. His face was currently set in a very familiar expression of thoughtfulness as he answered, ‘It’s complex, obviously. It’s constantly changing but I’m beginning to discern a pattern, a repeating sequences of pulses that prevent a casual probe beyond that wall into whatever is hiding behind there. And then, there’s my dream.’
‘What dream?’
Magnus told him of his dream about Kalkin and the matrix.
Pug was silent for a moment, then said, ‘As frustrating as it has been to deal with the Trickster, we do arrive at
the same purpose: preventing the obliteration of our world. But experience tells me to consider what filtered into your dream from . . . his dream, if that indeed was what it was.’
‘I think it’s true that this is a barrier, and the matrix . . .’ Magnus fell silent for a moment, then added, ‘Think of it as a lock, but one that has teeth and grooves within that are moving, and out there somewhere is a key that moves in synchronization with that lock, but any other key or lock pick will merely jam the lock, rendering it useless.’
‘Or destroy utterly whoever tried to pick it.’
Magnus merely shrugged.
Pug was thoughtful as he sipped his tea. After a moment, he said, ‘Still, the matrix did not manifest in such a fashion until you appeared, what, a day after you arrived?’
‘Less I think. I may not have taken notice of that aspect immediately,’ said Magnus.
‘So we might conclude that there’s a reasonable expectation that you are either supposed to be in possession of that key or able to pick that lock, correct?’
Magnus smiled. ‘Were our positions reversed in this conversation, Father, what would you say in answer to that?’
‘I’d say you were making rash assumptions. It could be that the arrival of any magic-user triggers that response.’
‘Or any non-Pantathian,’ offered Magnus.
‘Or demons on the island, or a flock of seagulls flying overhead . . .’
‘We should get back,’ said Magnus. ‘We have a few hours of daylight left, and while it’s cold now, it’s going to be brutal after the sun goes down. And I feel as if I’m almost ready to try to “pick the lock” as you say.’
Pug nodded. He followed his son out to where the now-totally-soaked and useless cushion lay and watched as Magnus sat on it anyway, and observed him enter his trance state.
A sudden concern struck Pug in the pit of his stomach as he recognized that his last living child was about to embark on what was perhaps a very dangerous exploration of magic. He quickly inventoried his own established spells of protection and realized he’d got sloppy lately.
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