To Tristan’s surprise, Hoshi smiled. “Truth be told, we were about to suggest that very thing,” she replied. “What is your other request?”
“I want my Black Ships to participate in the fight and Tyranny to command them,” Tristan said. “Your portals can easily accommodate them. I, my Minions, and my fellow Conclave members will ride the Black Ships to the battle site. Once there, I will gladly follow your orders.”
Mashiro nodded, and Tristan turned to look at Wigg, Jessamay, and Tyranny. “What say you all?” he asked. “Will you come with us?”
Despite the recent loss of Abbey, Wigg managed a short smile. “I can answer for everyone,” he replied. “You were born to take part in this struggle. It will be an honor to serve by your side.”
After nodding at Wigg, Tristan looked back at Mashiro. “Then it’s settled,” he said. “When will I be granted the banned forestallments?”
“Within hours,” Mashiro answered. “But first there is another concern that deserves our attention. I’m sure it has not escaped your mind.”
Tristan nodded again. “Shailiha,” he said softly. “I’m mad to know her condition and to help her defeat the Viper Lord.”
“To those ends, we have a gift for you,” Kaemon said. “Since the moment you arrived in Shashida, our best craft researchers have been diligently working to perfect some needed spells. We believe that you will find them interesting.”
“What spells are these?” Wigg asked.
“You will see soon enough,” Mashiro answered. TheInkai elder turned to look at Tristan.
“Activate your medallion,” Mashiro told him.
“IS THERE STILL NO NEWS OF KHRISTOS?” SHAILIHA ASKED.
“No, Your Highness,” Traax answered. “Night Witch patrols continue to scan Eutracia’s rivers from the air, but there has been no sign of him or his servants. Mashiro suspects that as long as the enemy remains submerged, Failee’s original spell will provide them with sustenance. If that is true, they have no need to surface until they wish to attack. They lurked beneath the water for three centuries before emerging to take the First Mistress’s revenge. Staying submerged for mere days at a time must be a comparatively simple feat.”
The hour was late and Shailiha was tired. Even so, she demanded that her Conclave members meet again to discuss the ongoing situation. This would be the last briefing of the day, and for that she was glad.
Khristos’ ability to raze Tammerland and to set fire to one of the Black Ships and nearly steal the other had enraged every Conclave member. The loss of theIllendium had been disastrous, and many days would pass before theCavalon would again be airworthy. With her two Black Ships unavailable and yet more Minions dead, Shailiha’s ability to fight Khristos had been severely compromised.
Moreover, her physical condition still plagued her. Her facial skin was healing, but her body ached badly from the effects of the viper venom, causing her to move like a woman twice her age. The vision in her left eye had improved slightly, but not enough to persuade her that it would ever return to normal. It will take time, Mashiro had told Faegan, and she clung to that belief. Of necessity she still wore the black eye patch, and by now everyone in the palace had grown accustomed to its presence. At least there is that, she thought.
Faegan, Traax, Aeolus, and Adrian sat with her at the mahogany table in the Conclave meeting room, deep in the Redoubt. It was not the first time that the remaining members had gathered since their friends had left for Shashida. Even so, the empty chairs still lent the room a desolate feel, and the chair that had once been Abbey’s seemed the most forlorn of all.
Sighing, Faegan placed his forearms on the highly polished table. “We can do little but wait, Princess,” he said. “We should continue to send out Night Witch patrols, but because our enemies can hide in the rivers, the likelihood of finding them before they again emerge is not great.”
Sadly, Shailiha was forced to agree. In Tristan’s absence she ruled Eutracia, but her inability to act was frustrating. She knew that if Tristan were still there, he would be equally stymied, and the advice being offered to him would be identical. Unlike her twin brother, the princess more carefully considered her options before acting. But because those options were so few, she was finding it increasingly difficult to stifle the same kind of impetuousness that characterized theJin’Sai.
Just then Faegan gave her a strange look, and she realized that he was staring not at her face, but at the gold medallion hanging around her neck. She looked down to see that it was glowing. Tristan! she thought. He’s reaching out to me from Shashida.
Rather than turn over the medallion, Shailiha hesitated. Tristan and the other Conclave members had yet to see her since she was injured. As at the moment when Morganna first saw her injured face, she worried about how they would react-especially her brother. The last thing she wanted from them was their pity. As the medallion continued to glow, she looked into Faegan’s eyes.
The crippled wizard reached out to pat her hand.
“He’s your brother,” he said. “He worries for you, as they all do. It is best that you put this behind you.”
Shailiha nodded, then turned over the medallion so that everyone around the table might see into it. Her first viewing of theInkai meeting room and the many people there took her breath away.
WHEN TRISTAN SAW HIS SISTER, HE FELT HIS HEART BREAK. He knew that she had been injured, but seeing her that way greatly disturbed him just the same. He knew that there was no use in speaking to her, so he tried to give his best smile of support.
“Has contact been established?” Mashiro asked.
“Yes,” Tristan answered.
“Please remove the medallion and place it on the meeting table,” theInkai elder said.
Tristan gave Mashiro a questioning look. “It was my understanding that the medallion must be worn by one of endowed blood to do its work,” he said.
Mashiro smiled. “That is no longer altogether true,” he said.
Tristan removed the medallion and placed it face up on the table. At once Mashiro caused the medallion to levitate about two feet above the table. Then the gold disc and its chain started to spin. Faster and faster they went until they became only a blur, then disappeared altogether.
In their place appeared another representation of what Tristan had seen in the medallion, but this time the scene was far larger. The images of the people sitting at the Redoubt table had become life-sized. Amazed, Tristan turned to gape at Mashiro.
“How did you do this?” he breathed.
“We altered the spells that Miriam cast over your medallions before she died,” he answered. “It took our craft researchers some doing, I can assure you.”
Tristan looked back at the scene floating before his eyes. The new image was about two yards broad by one yard high. It was so clear and sharp that Tristan felt he was there in the Redoubt and could actually reach out and touch his sister’s ravaged face. As he looked closer, he saw that the far wider scope of the new image allowed him to see everyone in the Redoubt chamber at once. Every Conclave member’s face wore an equally amazed expression. Because the new image floated above theInkai meeting table, everyone could see it easily.
“Has their view of us been similarly changed?” Tristan asked.
“Yes,” Mashiro answered. “This was made possible because Shailiha’s medallion is an exact duplicate of yours, created by the craft while she was imprisoned by the Coven of Sorceresses. Because of its origins, an enchanted connection has always existed between them. Miriam simply brought it to life, then we enhanced it. Now when either of you calls the needed spell, your medallions will create enlarged views, and they will not have to leave your bodies to do so.”
Still amazed, Tristan looked over at Mashiro. “I wish to communicate with her,” he said, “but I will need paper and ink to do so. May I be given some?”
Mashiro shook his head. “You won’t need them,” he said.
Wigg’s eyes narrowed and he leaned
over the tabletop. “Do you mean to say-”
“That’s exactly what I mean,” Mashiro answered.
Before Wigg could reply, Mashiro closed his eyes and called the craft. At once the image floating over the table glowed brighter, then blurred for several moments. When the scene came back into focus, Tristan heard an eerily familiar sound that did not originate from theInkai meeting chamber. He soon realized that it was the crackling of the burning logs in the Redoubt fireplace, far on the other side of the world. Mouth agape, he sat back in his chair.
“I beg the Afterlife!” he breathed. “I can hear them!”
Mashiro nodded. “That’s right, Jin’Sai, ” he said, “and they can hear us. Please accept these augmentations to your and your sister’s medallions as humble gifts from theChikara Inkai. ”
When she unexpectedly heard her brother’s voice, Shailiha reacted with a start. Faegan, Aeolus, Traax, and Adrian seemed similarly stunned.
“Tristan…?” Shailiha said.
“I’m here,” he answered. “TheChikara Inkai has augmented our medallions so that we may now also hear each other. I find the effect as amazing as you do.”
Pausing for a moment, Tristan looked sadly into his sister’s eyes. “Are you all right?” he asked quietly.
At first Shailiha didn’t answer. After pausing for a moment she bravely lifted her eye patch for all to see, then she put it back in place. A quick rush of air left Tristan’s lungs, but he did his best to stifle his shock.
“My vision is a bit better,” Shailiha answered. “On behalf of all of us, I wish to offer our condolences on the death of Abbey. We all miss her.”
Shailiha then cast her handicapped gaze about theInkai chamber and looked at each of the members in turn. “Which of you is Mashiro?” she asked.
Mashiro stood and bowed. “My apologies, Princess,” he said. “I should have made the needed introductions sooner. Please allow me to correct my mistake.”
Mashiro asked theInkai members to stand one by one. As they did, he introduced them to the Conclave members watching from so far away. When he finished, Shailiha did the same for her followers. Because of the sharpness of the scene and the amazing clarity of the Conclave members’ voices, it was almost as if everyone were seated at one great table.
For the next hour the two groups exchanged information on their respective situations. Shailiha informed theInkai that there had been no sightings of the Viper Lord or his followers but that Night Witch patrols continued to search them out. She then explained that theCavalon was under repair, but it would be many days before she would again be airworthy. Traax then provided theJin’Sai with an updated casualty report.
When Traax finished, Mashiro informed the Eutracian Conclave of everything that he had told Tristan and his fellow travelers during their earlier meetings. He then went on to explain Vespasian’s recent violation of the Borderlands Treaty and theInkai ’s plan to imbue Tristan’s blood with their versions of the banned forestallments. He also described in detail theInkai ’s wish that one day everyone’s blood signature might be altered to the vertical and that a new, unified nation might be born that was devoid of forestallments and dedicated to the ideal of free will. The Conclave members sat in stunned silence, absorbing every word. When Mashiro finished, many quiet moments passed as those in Eutracia considered the astounding news.
His expression stern, Faegan leaned across the Conclave meeting table and looked straight into Wigg’s eyes.
“Tell me, First Wizard,” he asked. “Assuming that the lands west of the Tolenkas can ever again be united, do you agree that all blood signatures should be altered to the vertical and that the Tome and the two Scrolls of the Ancients should be destroyed?”
“I do,” Wigg answered. “The Shashidans are right to feel this way. But before such awesome changes can happen, Rustannica must be defeated for good. Only then can theInkai turn their attention to the betterment of the craft for the sake of all mankind.”
Faegan sat in silence for some time as he considered Wigg’s words. “Despite how radical the concept seems, I must say that I agree,” he answered. “I envy your being there, old friend. I can only imagine the wonders that you have seen and those that still await you. Abbey would have been proud.”
Wigg’s face darkened for a moment. “Thank you,” he said simply.
“Now then,” Mashiro said. “I must ask the Conclave whether Failee’s grimoire is available.”
“It is,” Aeolus answered. He rose from his chair to walk across the Redoubt meeting chamber to where the red leather-bound book sat atop a pedestal. Bringing it back, he placed it on the table.
“Why do you wish to see the late First Mistress’s grimoire?” he asked. “Surely there can be nothing in it that supersedes your knowledge of the craft.”
“Although that is probably true, you must never forget how brilliant Failee was, or how limitless were the depths of her distrust,” Mashiro answered. “Like thePon Q’tar, she always constructed a way of destroying her own creations should the need arise.”
“I don’t understand,” Faegan protested. “Aside from the Vigors, what would she have wished to destroy?”
“Not what, butwhom, ” Renjiro answered.
Faegan’s face suddenly came alight with understanding. “You’re talking about Khristos, aren’t you?” he asked. “If for some reason he ever turned on her, he and his Blood Vipers would have presented a deadly threat to her rule-especially while she was still struggling to win the Sorceresses’ War.”
“Correct,” Midori said. “We suggest that you scour her grimoire for any references to Khristos. If the First Mistress devised a secret way to destroy him, her grimoire is where she probably hid it.”
“We have already done so,” Shailiha said. “Aside from a few entries describing her overall plan for Khristos, nothing more is said about him.”
“Nothing that you can see,” Mashiro said to Shailiha. “It’s what youcan’t see that interests us.”
“What are you talking about?” the princess asked.
Mashiro turned to look at Wigg. “Correct me if I’m wrong, First Wizard,” he said. “Isn’t it true that during the Sorceresses’ War, the Coven used spells to camouflage secret documents?”
“We always suspected as much,” Wigg answered. “If they did, they took the knowledge to their graves. Despite the combined efforts of the late Directorate of Wizards, we were never able to unravel the secret. I have long suspected that hidden writings lay in her grimoire, but there is no way to know for sure.”
“Until now, perhaps,” Mashiro said. He turned back toward the hovering image and looked at Faegan. “Wigg tells us that he left some of the subtle matter behind in Eutracia. Do you still have it?”
“Yes,” Faegan answered.
“Would you be kind enough to have it brought to your meeting chamber?” he asked. “You will have need of it.”
Faegan nodded and asked Traax to fetch it from its resting place in the Redoubt Archives. Soon Traax returned with a small glass flask filled with subtle matter, not unlike the one that Wigg had brought to Shashida. Taking the flask from Traax, Faegan placed it on the table alongside the grimoire.
“Now, then,” Mashiro said to Faegan. “Using your gift of Consummate Recollection, please open the grimoire to the section that makes mention of Khristos.”
Faegan closed his eyes and called the craft. Soon the grimoire opened of its own accord, and its pages began turning madly. After a few moments they stopped.
“It is done,” Faegan said.
“Good,” Mashiro said. “Now if you would be so kind as to sprinkle a small bit of the subtle matter onto the pages.”
Faegan did so, but nothing happened. He said as much to Mashiro.
“Do not be dismayed,” Mashiro said. “Subtle matter has many uses, but few of them can be achieved without an accompanying spell. If you would, please repeat the Shashidan incantation that I am about to recite. You will find it complex, so I suggest
that you first call on your Consummate Recollection to ensure that you repeat my words perfectly. Otherwise you might find the results distressing, to say the least. But if you recite it correctly and our suspicions about Failee are true, the results might be intriguing.”
“Very well,” Faegan answered. “I am ready.”
Mashiro enunciated a long incantation in his native Shashidan. As Tristan listened, he found the language far more beautiful and elegant than his native dialect. Throughout Mashiro’s incantation, Tristan recognized but one word: “Khristos.”
When Mashiro finished, Faegan closed his eyes. Calling on his special gift, he carefully repeated the incantation word for word. As he finished, all eyes turned toward Failee’s grimoire.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then the grimoire started to glow with the same white light that had emanated from the Tome and the two Scrolls of the Ancients when the subtle matter decoded them in the Archives. Letters, numbers, and craft symbols lifted from the pages to hover above the Conclave meeting table. Then the grimoire pages started flurrying by again, and yet more marks went flying off the pages. Soon the pages stopped turning, and Failee’s writings ceased lifting from the pages.
Everyone watched as the thousands of glowing characters swirled about to form lines. The lines then formed a text many paragraphs long incorporating two involved spell formulas. As Faegan read the glowing text, his mouth fell open.
“I beg the Afterlife!” he exclaimed. “You were right.”
Both chambers went silent as everyone read the glowing text. It soon became clear that it was a craft treatise that had been written by Failee and described in detail how to deal with Khristos and his servants should they ever become a threat to her. Filled with awe, Tristan let go a deep breath and sat back in his chair.
“Well done, Faegan, and worthy of anInkai, ” Mashiro said to the crippled wizard. “This should greatly aid you in your struggle.”
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