by D. H. Aire
Sianhiel opined, “Magic by, its nature can hardly be measured!”
Suddenly uncomfortable, Gallen edged back, yet could not help wondering at the human mage’s assertion.
“Is this discussion of illusion leading us anywhere?” the Empress asked both frustrated and puzzled.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” George stated taking a step forward. “There was a residue in the ambient of the passageway that was not centered upon Lord Senason himself. A powerful magery was worked there, which I believe is consistent with Aaprin’s statement that the man he saw vanished… An illusion by its very nature, I assert, must be subtle so that it cannot be easily detected.”
“If that is true, the postulated illusionary man could have crossed the ballroom possibly without alerting the wards,” offered the Empress.
Sianhiel threw up his hands in frustration.
“A simple illusion as such would not have set off your wards, Majesty,” George replied. “However, to be witnessed by so many by crossing the ballroom would have been no simple illusion. It would have required more than enough power to be revealed by the wards.”
Grendel smiled thinly, “Then you are saying that you were seen crossing the ballroom— not some illusion of you? And, might I add, that your presence before the Empress might have then been one of these simpler undetectable illusions.” Silence gripped the room as Sianhiel glared in sudden triumph. The man had doomed himself with his own words!
The Empress trembled and glanced up at the human mage, who smiled back reassuringly. “Actually, I’m afraid that argument is a bit moot since the wards would not react to, what you term as, my magery, in any case.”
“What?!” everyone seemed to exclaim at once. George merely nodded, closing his eyes. He raised his staff high before him to demonstrate. The staff flared.
Abruptly, Geoge rose a foot from the floor.
Se’and silently cursed at his antic as Abernathy came forward in wonder, examining what he had accomplished.
“Anyone sense warning from the wards?” Abernathy asked as the Empress gaped.
“Simple illusion?” Sianhiel cried. “It’s a trick!”
“Or minor magery as he claimed.” Grendel affirmed.
Abernathy bent and swung his arm to and fro beneath the floating man. The aged Faeryn straightened, then walked around him and his blazing bright staff. “Majesty, do you sense magery at work, for I do not.”
She frowned, sniffing the air. “I detect nothing.”
“He said illusion was subtle!” Grendel cried. “So his human magic is as subtle and cunning as he would make us believe.”
An otherly voice spoke from the ether, :So stubborn. Evidence has been presented, yet do you even begin to suspect the whole truth? No… How illogical.:
Angry Palace
2
“Who said that?” rasped the Empress as Grendel blanched, edging back.
:I did,: Staff said as it glowed.
“Huh?” Sianhiel muttered, looking about him as the voice continued.
:George’s magicks, as you seem so intent upon referring to them, bear little in common with elvin magery. Based upon scientific principles outside your understanding of the universe, but well within human purview… I suggest you look again at all the evidence Aaprin has provided, as well as the facts discovered last night. I believe such a review can better help this investigation, which is beginning to annoy me.:
Aaprin stared at the staff as his father took a hesitant step backward. “I do not understand this,” Lucian mumbled anxiously. The Empress leaned back in her seat in astonishment, as the otherly rebuke was voiced, seeming from mid-air.
“It’s all right, father,” Aaprin replied, taking hold of Lucian’s hand. “It’s only the staff. He’s a com-puter, a sort of living human machine.”
“What’s wrong with you?” Revit rasped, shaking free of Terus’s hand, incredulous at having been dragged from the room.
Shrugging, the other boy replied uneasily, “Not here,” then hesitated. The yearning to move had receded for the moment.
Herald Lowell motioned to Varian, “I’ve a matter to attend. I will want a report on everything learned here.”
“As you will, Master,” the herald replied as his senior left.
Lord Sianhiel’s elvin comrades found themselves the focus of attention as they were pelted by questions from the curious, who kept their distance from the two faeryn mages and most particularly from Archmage Kolter, who stood pensive, glancing back at the doorway they had just exited.
The Lady Rowena sighed and returned to the chair she recently occupied from which she could clearly hear every word Sianhiel’s companions spoke.
Kolter of Heydan quietly muttered an elvin word. The room seemed to tilt, then steady. Unremembered and unremarked, the archmage exited the outer antechamber.
Terus abruptly bristled and hurried from the room, Revit worriedly rushing after him concerned by Terus’s odd behavior.
The elvin cast lad stared in front of him, hardly blinking. Pausing a moment, he headed down the corridor, turned suddenly, and blindly went down another. Reaching out a hand, to try and slow Terus’s pace, Revit shivered, his fingers tingling, which caused him to hastily draw back.
They reached a stairway, which Terus hastily descended, at a run.
“Hey! Wait up!” Revit cried.
Without looking back, Terus replied in an oddly deeper voice, “Shh! Come on!”
Revit swallowed hard as Terus fled around another corner three levels down, cursing under his breath.
Uncomprehending, Revit ran after, fearing for his friend. It was not long before he caught up with him. Terus was shuffling back and forth in the middle of a hallway lined with several doors.
“Ter, what’s this all about?”
“He went into one of these rooms, but which one?” Terus half wailed in frustration, looking at Revit imploringly. “You’ve got to help me!”
“Okay! Okay, just tell me who you’re looking for!”
The elfblooded boy turned fixedly back to the nearest doorway. “The palace is angry at him,” was Terus’s only answer.
“Him?”
Terus made no answer; merely canted his head a moment to the right.
“Great,” Revit muttered as Terus pressed himself close to the door before him to listen for the slightest noise.
Shrugging, Revit chose a more cautious approach. He concentrated as he had been taught. His hands gradually glowed ever so faintly. With a feather touch to the next door, he probed for wards. Finding none or the sense that anyone was within the barred room, he quickly moved on to the next. As he fingertips brushed it, the blue glow flared. Powerful wards lay before him as he called out to Terus, who hurried over. Background magicks coursed through the stolid wood… and further. Revit’s thoughts probed outward, sensing immensely powerful wards focused here. He instantly knew he faced “Prime Wards.” From his time spent at the Academy he knew such wards could not be crossed by other than a “recognized” individual. To be otherwise could result in the death of the person who tried.
He could sense the wards fully encompass the room. Walls, floor, and ceiling echoed with the “forbidding.” Everying within the chamber was completely hidden. If Terus’s man had entered this room, there was no way to know. Yet, even as Revit realized this, the elfblooded boy laid hands to the door. The wards flared beneath Revit’s still probing mind. With a cry of startled pain, Revit reeled.
Gasping, wondering why he suddenly lay across the hall flat on his back, Revit felt the wards open before Terus, who opened the door and hurried within.
Terus looked around him in obvious panic. There was no one here.
The “wrongness” he felt demanded that he was in the proper place. A wave of dizziness brought him to his knees.
Revit struggled to rise and follow. He hurried as best he could to Terus’s side. His presence seemed to drive back the fuzziness shrouding Terus’s thoughts. Blinking hard, Terus muttered, �
�He’s been here.”
Revit did not even try to ask as he stared about him.
Books, parchment folios, and scrolls lined selves along the walls. “We’re in a library,” Revit mumbled in surprise.
Shaking his head, Terus replied, “No, this is the palace archive.”
“What? How do you know that?”
Uncertain how he knew, he took a deep breath and assured his friend, “It just is.”
A few scrolls lay strewn across an aged, pockmarked, table, which was one of the few pieces of furniture that graced the chamber. “Ter, let’s get out of here. We’re obviously in the wrong place.”
However, Terus was not so easily swayed. Eerily, the elfblooded boy canted his head as though listening, then he circuited the room until he seemed drawn to the fireplace. Frowning, he looked at it for some time, before abruptly pressing both hands to the mantel’s embossing Imperial emblem.
With a scraping noise, the fireplace moved backward, revealing a dark passageway. Revit gasped as Terus blindly ran into its dark depths.
No one noticed that a small panel behind curtains had opened in the wall down the hall as all those barred from the Imperial chamber paced.
Sweat beaded Gallen’s brow as he concentrated on keeping up the illusion of Irin.
The Empress rose, “Stop, this instant!”
George settled back to the floor, his staff’s brilliance fading to the merest glow. “Pardon me, Majesty. But I felt a demonstration was in order.”
:And I am growing a bit bored. Aaprin’s testimony is quite helpful.:
Se’and nudged Je’orj’s arm, “I doubt Staff is helping your case.”
With a frown, he whispered, “Actually, I think he is.”
“Your Majesty,” cautioned Grendel, “this is preposterous. A mage’s talisman is not a living thing. Yet, this human puppeteer would play games with us to confuse matters further.”
Raven cocked her head to the left, as she noticed Se’and suddenly tense. They were being watched. Both of them could feel it. Feigning ease, Se’and casually looked about the room as if she, too, were bored with the tedium.
“I suggest we heed the Staff’s advice,” Abernathy commented. “Perhaps a review of the evidence might provide a less complex analysis than we’ve been discussing.”
Sianhiel pointed at the human mage, “Majesty, the apprentice has made damning testimony against that man. He must be interrogated, not left to investigate a crime he, doubtless, committed himself!”
The Empress leaned back in her chair and considered, then glanced side-long at Lord Je’orj. “What is this simple explanation that can be derived from what we now know?”
With a nod of satisfaction, George looked to Aaprin, “First, you saw a person you thought was me, but once you entered the corridor, knew he wasn’t.”
The lad replied, “Yes, Milord.”
“Continuing to accept your statenent, you say he then vanished.” Sianhiel bridled, glancing at Grendel for support, but found none. Grendel watched this interplay most carefully. “What happened there is critical to understanding how Lord Senason met his demise, you will all agree?”
Se’and looked casually about the room, realizing that she seemed to be forgetting something, which would certainly come to her momentarily. The admission worried her. Clutching the hilt of her sheathed sword more tightly did little to ease her mounting concern.
“Aaprin, think back to the moment you saw the person standing there,” George said. At his apprentice’s thoughtful expression, he muttered, “Focus, enhance, and display.”
:Acknowledged,: Staff replied through their bond.
The staff glowed brighter. A beam of light appeared from its tip, focusing at a point just in front of Aaprin. A three dimensional image formed for all to see.
The tapestry parted. The corridor came into view. The figure walking away from Aaprin half turned to glance back.
A moment later he vanished.
“Repeat and enhance,” George said.
The image swirled. Returned to the half turning man.
“Hold... Aaprin, concentrate. What do you see?”
Swallowing hard, Aaprin struggled, staring up at the image called up from his memory.
The man’s cloak swirled, a frayed edge flashed as the man glanced back at him. His eyes widened as he saw Aaprin standing there. An odd look of recognition and alarm crossed his face. Then, he was gone.
“Slow, and repeat sequence,” George muttered, sensing reactions about the room, particularly Se’and’s excitement at seeing the man’s cloak which was of a similar color with Lord Je’orj’s that night, but which looked of a Cathartan cut, one seen in old paintings. But to her, it obviously was not her lord’s.
The staff burned brighter as sweat beaded Aaprin’s brow. The man in the image was again half turning to see him. He stared at Aaprin, looking shocked. His lips mouthed something…
:Focusing on the face,: Staff intoned. The mouth was parting with a word never voiced. Then, he was gone.
:Repeating...: His mouth was opening, his expression one of shock. Though, the face looked like George’s, there was something not right about it.
“His cheek’s slightly scarred!” Lucian instantly recognized, his crooked hand twitching.
Aaprin’s eyes went wide. “Yes!” The image froze upon the man’s expression. The cheek oddly pulling as his shock at seeing Aaprin registered.
“He’s been healed from a bad burn,” Abernathy averred as the Empress stared at the frozen image.
“That’s a lie!” Sianhiel pled. “No one can do what the human is showing us! Scrying memories with such precision is impossible without burning out the person’s mind!”
“You compare that talisman’s magery to mere scrying?” Abernathy said.
Grendel harshly laughed. “Before the Mage Guild, I lost in challenge to him… because of that staff he wields! Believe it I can.”
Staff’s beam of light upon the image faded away as Aaprin trembled, exhausted and drained. George frowned. “Majesty, there is more I would ask of my apprentice. I believe, as this demonstrates, he knows more than he realizes. However, he needs rest. The strain of all of this…”
“No, Majesty, I beg of you!” shouted Sianhiel as Lucian put his arm around his staggering son.
The Empress sat back. “That man was clearly not Lord Je’orj, unless I am to doubt my own eyes. The lad, and his family, here, are granted a respite. You others shall stay. We shall continue our review of the evidence, especially in light of the fact that Lord Je’orj has uncovered something, which we have not yet made known to you.”
Grendel would have objected, but for that comment. Hurriedly, Sianhiel demanded, “Majesty, my people must be allowed to escort them and check their chambers. What the lad may yet reveal is too important to depend on those only with skill of swords.”
Though she disliked his tone, the Empress nodded and pressed the stone of one of her many rings. A note chimed. The guards outside came in. “The Summerfelts are to be taken to guest quarters. They are to be granted every courtesy. Lord Sianhiel’s people and the two Faeryn outside are to escort them and check the rooms’ wards.”
“Yes, Majesty,” they replied as Sianhiel moaned and Abernathy shook his head with a wry smile.
In the bustle of leaving the room, Raven’s too sensitive hearing discerned the faintest “snicking” sound. Her feeling of being watched faded. However, her concern for the Summerfelts she accompanied rose a notch.
“What is this new unmentioned evidence, My Lady,” Grendel asked as the doors were closed once more.
The Empress drew forth from beside her the scrolled parchment. “Lord Je’orj showed me this before he officially presented it to me at your arrival. The information here contained should be found only in my Archives, which as you can see is not the case.”
With a sigh, George explained, “One of the issues that most disturbed me the night of the murder was that no one seemed to know anything ab
out the hidden passageway the assassin used to make his escape… at the end of which we discovered the body of one of the Imperial heralds. That herald, the Lady Rowena and several others remember standing close to the Empress’s booth… and the other entrance to the passage.”
Sianhiel frowned, “For a passage to be forgotten cannot be too uncommon. Consider how long ago the palace was first built and all the construction since.”
Nodding, George replied, “That might be true elsewhere. But the Empress’s enemies are the enemies of the Empire and all humanity. I suspect that the Imperial Family Archives safeguard information about the Palace’s peculiarities. Such a passage close to the booth was likely built for security purposes. It is not the only one convenient to the booth.”
“Those are ones of which I am familiar.”
George gestured to the Empress, “Which made the unknown presence of this particular passage most notable.”
The Empress sighed, noting the looks of surprise, “My ancestors prided themselves on not only hording our knowledge, but safeguarding our own interests. I had thought there was nothing about the palace my mother and I did not know, or could not quickly ascertain from the family archives. So, at my order, Herald Lowell presented the sum total of the archival plans to Lord Je’orj.”
“Majesty!” Abernathy exclaimed in shock.
“He did so only in my presence… here in this very room. I will not allow anything to prevent us from learning who murdered Senason!”
Once the others settled down, George continued, “The plan for that passageway was not among those found in the archives. In fact, there appeared to be three missing scrolls.”
“Surely that some might be gone should not be surprising. Even bespelled scrolls accidently deteriorate,” Grendel commented.
“That one of them should be to the assassin’s passage is too convenient,” the Empress affirmed, firmly clutching the parchment George had brought her.
Sianhiel smiled triumphantly, “Then I take it, your chief investigator has rather conveniently come upon the missing one?”