They would confirm what they already knew, what Burell’s evidence clearly revealed. Anything to delay the truth.
Blaylock’s eyes narrowed. He was even more unhappy with Kell’s response than was Elric. Though Kell remained standing, Blaylock stood, challenging him. “Kell, you live on Zafran 7, neighbor to Burell’s planet. Have you seen no signs of activity on your home? Surely such massive movements would affect Zafran 7 as well. Could it be that the Shadows are the threat of which Elizar spoke?”
Kell spared Blaylock only a glance. “I have heard talk.” A flourish of his hand dismissed it. “But I have seen no evidence.”
Elric found himself monitoring Kell’s body functions, which he had never done before. Kell, of course, would maintain control of his body and reveal nothing. But the very fact that Elric would do this revealed his growing uncertainty. The possibility of the Shadows’ return was already creating distrust and turmoil among them. And the chaos was just beginning.
“As for Elizar,” Kell said, “he has spoken for himself to this assembly.”
Slowly, Blaylock sat.
Kell’s gaze swept over them. “We must now decide the nature of this mission to Zafran 8, and who will be sent. Elric and Burell, you brought us this information. Have you any recommendations?” Kell sat.
Recommend me, Burell’s message read.
Elric knew the Circle would never agree, despite the fact that, even with her ill health, Burell was the best one to do the job. She was too controversial a figure to be chosen by the Circle. In addition, choosing Burell would make even clearer the redundancy in the mission. Why send her to collect evidence that she had already collected? Yet he had to plead her case, or she would do it herself.
“Burell would gladly continue her investigation for the Circle. Zafran 8 is her place of power. She has extensive connections to it, probes in all the areas of interest, useful sources of information. Her presence there is expected and so would draw no attention.”
“I feel we have asked enough of Burell,” Ing-Radi said her slit pupils avoiding both Burell and Elric. “I join with Kell in thanking her for her efforts. Perhaps more evidence can be gained by approaching the problem in a different style.”
“The use of Isabelle, however, would be wise,” Kell said. “She would draw no attention.”
An inexperienced mage would also take longer to find any convincing evidence, Elric realized.
I don’t want her involved! Burell’s message read.
I will do what I can, Elric responded.
Elric considered volunteering, but knew he was an unacceptable choice. A member of the Circle, or any powerful mage, would draw the suspicions of any who might be watching.
“She will need assistance, of course,” Ing-Radi said.
“I offer Elizar,” Kell said. “Since he lives nearby, a friendly visit will not seem out of place.”
Kell’s body functions showed no particular fluctuation, but Elric was suddenly afraid, in a way he hadn’t been in years. Kell wanted to control the evidence that reached the Circle. Elric had told Blaylock, I trust Kell. That is all. Was he wrong to do so? Was the vision of the universe on which he had based his life flawed?
Blaylock stood. “Elizar is injured and needs time to recover.” His tone left no room for disagreement. “We are overlooking the obvious candidate. Galen. He was to be set a task after initiation, a task that would place him in danger and test his reaction. This seems the perfect opportunity.” His unyielding face turned to Elric. Blaylock had wanted Galen to be cast away. Now that Galen was a mage, Blaylock would have him be the first casualty of the war. “He can visit as a friend of Isabelle’s as easily as Elizar. We can even let it be known that Burell is ill, and that Galen has come to help with her care.”
Ing-Radi nodded. “I agree. If the second mage is a peer of Isabelle’s, it will draw less suspicion. And if Galen is to be a danger to the mages, we should know it now. Before he is fully come into his powers.”
Elric could see that Herazade was about to throw her hat in with the others. She thought the mission unnecessary; it made no difference to her who went. It made no difference to her if Galen was the first to face the Shadows. It made no difference to her if Galen was lost.
“Wait.” Elric stepped forward. “This may be the most important issue that has faced the mages in a thousand years. We need not send beginners where experts are required. I can go to Zafran 8 in disguise. No one need discover I’m a mage. I know the evidence. I can find out what we need quickly and quietly. We will risk no discovery.”
Ing-Radi bowed her head, and in the slash of her mouth, Elric read pity. “If there is a Shadow presence there, they may well be able to penetrate your disguise. Then they will discover a member of the Circle investigating them, deceiving them. That we dare not risk.”
“I agree with the proposal to send Galen and Isabelle,” Herazade said, making a majority.
They’ve got both of our babies now, Burell wrote.
“Let them be sent now,” Blaylock said “before the convocation is ended. We can say that Burell was taken ill and had to return to her place of power.”
Herazade and Ing-Radi agreed.
“Very well then,” Kell said. “Elric, will you explain to Galen and Isabelle their task?”
Galen would have no more time to become accustomed to the implants. He would have no more time to improve his control before facing danger. Elric nodded.
“We shall see what they find.”
As the Circle went through the motions to end the meeting, Elric received a message from Blaylock. You cannot spare Galen his trial.
Elric quickly composed a response. You would send him just out of the chrysalis against the Shadows.
He is well able to defend himself.
And if he does so, you will flay him.
If he reacts with violence when none is needed, or uses the spell forbidden to him, yes. The trial is a fair one. Do you believe he will fail?
Elric took Burell’s arm and helped her from the chamber. Burell leaned into him and hissed under her breath. “They are bastards, all. Bastards.”
“The nights are cold there,” Elric said. “Do you have your coat?”
Galen cast a glance over his shoulder as he packed the valise. Elric was acting strangely. “Yes.” He had a coat, robes, pants, shirt, underclothes, and toiletries; he had his screen and a pouchful of data crystals; he had props for various minor illusions; he had the keycard Alwyn had given him that was supposed to open any door; he had the microscopic probes he’d made and additional probes made by Circe in case his didn’t work well; and he had a lot of loose components, just in case. On top of that, he had loaded every program he thought might be remotely useful directly into his tech, so he could access it easily. Galen was bringing way too much. And instead of pointing out the error, as was Elric’s custom, he was encouraging Galen to bring even more.
The agitating undercurrent of energy from the implants made Galen feel itchy all over. He looked around his room. Aside from the chrysalis, what remained were the remnants of old projects, primitive inventions, and various components and raw chemicals he couldn’t imagine needing. The small woven grass box lay on the bottom shelf in the corner. He retrieved it, put it into the valise.
“You’re taking the ring?” Elric asked.
“I inserted one of my probes into it. I thought I might be able to use it.” After Elric had told him that the Circle had selected him for an important task, Galen had found himself last night staring uneasily at the ring. Made by his mother, worn by his father. It embodied a part of himself from which he hid. He was now a mage as they had been. Although he would have preferred never to see it again, perhaps it was time to stop hiding.
He had visualized various equations, sending different commands to the ring, commands that would allow him to perform the tasks his father had performed, to access the data his father had stored. But the ring had refused to respond. Just as Elric’s probes were key
ed to respond only to him and those who knew his code, the ring was keyed to respond only to its owner, his father. With an odd sense of relief, Galen had at last given up and had added his own probe, which only he could access.
The mages had learned to make probes very small and very smart. They required none of the tech of the Taratimude within them. Yet as a probe that would covertly observe and record its surroundings, the ring was a rather awkward device. A probe could be made now as small as a grain of dust, and those made by Circe and some of the other mages would cling to any surface, or move to a well-lighted location, or follow other directives. A ring was much more conspicuous and impractical. Yet perhaps he could find some use for it.
He forced the overstuffed valise closed and sealed it.
“You need one more thing,” Elric said.
“I can’t fit another thing,” Galen said, turning to face Elric.
Across his open palms, Elric held a staff. Given during the welcoming ceremonies that ended the convocation, a staff or other gift of magic was a teacher’s acknowledgment that his apprentice had become a mage. Elric nodded.
Over four feet long, the staff was a lustrous black, with golden etchings of circuits in finest filigree. It fit perfectly into Galen’s hand, warm and smooth and balanced, as if a new limb had sprouted there.
“Associate,” Elric said.
Galen looked to the chrysalis on his table, found that it was missing a small piece from the end of its “tail.” Elric had incorporated it into the staff, making the staff a part of Galen, an extension of him. The staff was a combination of the advanced tech of the Taratimude, which powered the staff and connected it to him, and the technology currently within the power of the mages, with which various tools had been built into the staff.
Galen closed his eyes and focused on it, visualized the equation for association.
It awoke, echoing his equation. A subtle vibration of energy slipped into him. The vibration was echoed back by the implants, echoed again by the staff. The echoes came faster, growing stronger and sharper, reflecting back and forth like the ringing of a bell in a bell tower, swelling in rapid reverberation. His mind raced. He didn’t know if he could control it. Wild energies could escape. Elric could be injured. Elric could be disappointed. Galen must figure out how to prevent that. Galen must not allow that. But what if he couldn’t perform the task set for him by the Circle? What if he failed? He had already failed once. Isabelle certainly didn’t love him. How could she love him? How would he cope with that?
And what was happening to him?
The energy from the chrysalis had combined with the undercurrent from the implants to produce a surge of nervous anticipation, as if he’d been injected with adrenaline. He’d read of this effect—parallelism, they called it—and knew that mages became accustomed to it, over time.
He recited the prime numbers, silently, deliberately. The orderly progression echoed back to him, calming him. The vibration remained yet its intensity lessened.
The staff was now a part of him, a new limb. A menu of options appeared in his mind’s eye, reflecting the more traditional part of the staff’s technology. He studied the possibilities. It could control, hold and channel energies. It could observe; it could record. It could destroy itself, if he deemed it necessary.
He closed his eyes, carefully visualizing the equation to dissociate. The connection broke, the vibration died. His limb went to sleep.
Yet the undercurrent of energy from the implants felt stronger than ever. Galen realized he had begun to grow accustomed to it. Now that he was attuned to it, he began to realize how truly strong it was, a resonance more intimate and subtle than that with the chrysalis, one that was quickly becoming a part of him. It was restless and powerful, quick to respond. No wonder mages got in so many fights. He must control it, always.
“In time, you will feel more comfortable with the staff,” Elric said.
Galen nodded, holding the smooth, sleeping surface away from his body. “Thank you.”
“You will find it unnecessary under most circumstances. Yet it can be helpful when a sophisticated channeling of energy is needed.” The familiar tension was there in Elric’s face, but something else as well. As he spoke, his teeth barely moved clenched. Galen had seen this in Elric before, when he was angry. But Elric was not angry now—at least Galen didn’t think so.
It seemed suddenly odd to Galen that Elric, who was so strict about process, who had insisted Galen could not begin work on his ship until he had become a mage, would give him his staff early, as Kell had given to Elizar.
“Are you trying to spoil me?” Galen said.
“I can take it back if you like.”
“No, no.” Galen picked up his valise and glanced toward the window.
“Your friend wanted to say good-bye.”
“I told her when I had to leave.”
“She is on her way. She can meet us at the ship. We should not delay.”
Galen took a last look around his room, nodded. He should be back in a few weeks, hopefully before the convocation concluded at the end of the Earth year. But he would return as an initiate mage, not an apprentice. Then he would have to begin the process of breaking away from Elric, finding his own life and his own place of power. This trip, he supposed, was the first step, his first time away from Elric since Elric had brought him here to live, eleven years ago. Everything was changing.
Galen followed Elric from the house, and as they set out across the mak, Galen periodically looked back, the modest stone house slowly dissolving into the mist. “I reviewed Burell’s findings. They seem quite convincing.”
Elric frowned. “Clear-cut evidence is needed. Evidence beyond doubt. Evidence that proves the hand behind the migration, behind the gathering of resources on the rim, is the hand of the Shadows. Because if doubt remains an option, some will stubbornly cling to it.”
“I will find proof. I will not fail the Circle.” I will not fail you, Galen thought.
“You have read some of the ancient texts. The Shadows prefer to work secretly, invisibly. They find others to do their bidding. They have hidden themselves so well that we know very little about them, or their abilities.” Elric glanced at him. “All we know of their powers is that they are great. They may be able to detect the presence of a mage, or the energies of his spells. They may even be able to defend against your spells.”
“But you think it’s possible to find proof.”
“Possible, yes. For one who is very clever, and very subtle. You must follow the strings from puppet to puppet master.”
Galen knew his own weaknesses well. While he was intelligent, his thinking was methodical, unswerving. Cleverness and subtlety were not among his strengths, as Elric was well aware. “You said that for this task the Circle wanted a contemporary of Isabelle’s, someone who would not draw attention. But you failed to say why the Circle chose me.”
“The Circle’s deliberations are its own affair.” Again Galen saw the clenched teeth, the anger. It was not directed at him, though, but at the Circle.
They arrived at Burell’s ship. Galen set down his staff and valise. He saw a hint of orange flash in the distance, moving toward them. Elric faced him, and the anger was gone. His eyes were wide, his lips pressed into a thin, straight line.
“Remember that the wisest mage takes without anyone knowing anything was taken. Prepare for every possibility. Manipulate the perceptions of others. Maintain control of the situation at all times. Be cautious. And be wary.”
Galen nodded uncertain how to react to Elric’s concern. “I will.” Elric did not want him to go, Galen realized. Elric did not think he could succeed.
Then Fa was calling out to him. “Gale! Gale!”
Elric turned away, going to meet Isabelle, who had come out of the ship.
Fa arrived before him, breathless. “I thought you would be gone.”
“Not yet,” Galen said. “I will only be gone for a short time, anyway. I will come back
soon.”
“When is soon?”
Galen gazed after Elric. “Soon is after today and before long.”
“But when?”
“Expect me,” Galen said, looking down at her, “when you see me.”
She frowned briefly. “What’s that behind your ear?” Fa pointed, and Galen crouched so she could reach him.
She brought her hand to the side of his face and opened her palm to reveal a woven grass star. “Odd place to keep a star,” she said, and handed it to him. He hadn’t even seen her reach into her pocket this time.
“Thank you,” he said. He had nothing for her. And he realized, now, that he should. She did not trust that he would return. She would worry each night, watch each day. She would feel better if she had something of his, something to hold against his return. Then he knew what to give. As he thought of the object, Galen was relieved. With Fa was where it belonged. He felt uneasy with its custody. He had faced the ring last night; he would not be hiding from himself now if he gave it away. And it seemed fitting that, as he left, they should reverse the ritual they had performed so many times. Instead of her giving him the ring, he would give it to her.
He palmed the star, visualized the equation to create an image of it, then set the image snaking up into the air. “It’s blowing away. Catch it, Fa.”
She ran after it, and he sent it behind Elric and Isabelle. Quickly he unsealed the valise, retrieved the ring from its grass box, and resealed the valise. He cast the spell to access the ring’s probe through the tiny transceiver built into it. He added a new program to the ring. Cupping it in his hand, he drew the illusion of the star back toward him. Fa followed, arms extended upward. The star suddenly toppled downward and Galen reached out and appeared to grab it.
Fa regarded him skeptically. “Odd wind.”
“An object of great magic must not be abused,” Galen said keeping his fist extended in front of him. “It must only be used in great need.”
Fa was looking at his hand with great interest now.
“One who controls such an object must be wise. She must not call on it lightly.”
Casting Shadows (The Passing of the Techno-Mages #1) Page 16