High Mage: Book Five Of The Spellmonger Series (15 page)

“No, the lives of my child and my wife,” I said, flatly.  “The snowstone was a happy blessing of the spell, but it was merely an enchanted by-product.”

“Of course,” he said, dismissively.  “Has the child exhibited any unusual symptoms?”

“He’s a little colicky, if his mother eats too many legumes,” I said, growing more irritated.  “Other than that he’s a normal human baby.”

“Interesting,” he nodded.  “He will reach maturity in only a few years, too.  That should prove fascinating to observe.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” I said. 

“Tell me, how much gold would it take for you to part with the child?” he asked.  “I know you people are mad for gold,” he explained.  “I’m sure we can reach some reasonable arrangement . . .”

“No amount of gold is going to part me from my son,” I said, darkly.  “Indeed, no power on Callidore could do so without earning my wrath.  And after my body has fallen, you’d still have to get through his mother.  I know you aren’t familiar with our culture,” I warned, “but humani females are particularly touchy over their offspring.”

“But you breed them like
animals!
” he declared, frustrated.  “You will have many more children, with many more females – what matters this one?”

“I went through a lot to keep him, and I’m not going to part from him.  Any further discussion on the subject will give offense,” I pointed out to him, as evenly as I could.  I started to subconsciously draw power from my sphere when we were interrupted by Master Haruthel.

“Cardareth!”
he said, sharply, when he saw who I was standing with.  “What is this?  You are forbidden from these proceedings!”

“I am not in exile!” the younger Alkan pointed out, and then spat out a harsh line of sing-song in his own language.  Master Haruthel answered him passionately, and then Cardareth bowed his head.

“I beg forgiveness if I have given you offense, Spellmonger,” he said, not sounding at all apologetic.  “I will go, now.  But we will speak again.”

“Perhaps,” I answered.  Hopefully at that time I would have a mageblade handy.

“My apologies, Magelord Minalan,” Haruthel said, after Cardareth had left.  “He is young, and from a troubled house.”

“His diplomacy and tact need work, too,” I said, gruffly.  “He—“

“I have no doubt he made outrageous claims or accusations, or said things that you found troubling,” Haruthel sighed.  “He is . . . unstable.  Indeed, his whole line is compromised.  His brothers have been exiled, after some trouble they caused with their fanatical views.  Cardareth alone was spared that ignominy, due to his young age and his willingness to abide by the council’s dictates.  If only such flawed condition was spared the burden of talent, he would be content.  But he and his brothers are quite adept.”

“But with a low opinion of anyone who isn’t Alka Alon,” I observed.

“With a low opinion of anyone who doesn’t share their narrow, bigoted perspectives,” he corrected.  “And even then they war among themselves as much as with everyone else.  That is fortunate, for there is a whole faction of them.  We call them the Enshadowed, now,” he said, looking a little guilty.

“There must be a story there,” I prompted.

“For another time,” the master decided.  “It is a dark and unflattering tale, filled with compromises and pointless sacrifice.  We face enough ill news in our day.  We need not dwell on the darkness of the past to appreciate the light of hope that shines on us now.”

There was something in the way he said it that prompted me to ask the question.  “Cardareth told me that the snowstone had the possibility of saving Callidore,” I said, slowly.  “Was he wrong?”

“No,” Haruthel admitted.  “No, he was not wrong.  Though perhaps ‘save’ is too strong a term.  ‘Preserve’ would be a better one.  But there is much yet we must study about the substance to be sure,” he added, with a note of caution. 

Something about his manner troubled me.  “Master, I hear a lot of wistfulness in the Alka Alon, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“We are just beginning to appreciate the light we have left.  This crisis has opened up more than one old wound, and it promises to inflict many more.  Our best course is wisdom.  Let us proceed with open minds and open hearts, with hope as our beacon.  That may be the only way out of this crisis.”

Chapter Five

The Findings Of The Council

I made the rounds of all five great lords that night.  None of them seemed particularly anxious to be persuaded to give me what I needed, I thought, but they were all quite gracious when it came to the gifts of the enchanted Apophylyte.  As they never seemed to tire of demonstrating, the necklaces gave them the ability to enter their magical net of transport spells nearly at will.  And it greatly improved the responsiveness of their songspells. 

What they didn’t know was that I had six more of them, though not so large or prettily set.  And that was just the beginning.  My secret chamber in the side of the mountain had a whole table laid out with the raw stones Master Guri’s best gemsingers had retrieved from deep under the mountain.  I wasn’t exactly sure what I would do with them – a lot of that would depend upon the council’s response to my request.

While we waited, we took full advantage of the place.  It was beautiful, after all, and there were plenty of things to see and do and experience.  Meals were always on time and delicious, though the lack of meat in them was interesting.  A certain indefinable nuttiness seemed to permeate all of the Alka Alon’s food.  Nor were our other needs ignored.  There always seemed to be an Alka attendant waiting discreetly for us, just around the corner, ready to fetch us anything we desired.

I was given a special tour of one hall by Lady Ithalia, who thought I might appreciate it.  Inside were artifacts and such from the earthly Magocracy, gifts given the Master of the Hall in ages past.  Most were amusing trinkets, to the Alka Alon, but they had a much different effect on me. 

“This is a model of Perwyn!” I said, startled, when I saw it.  It was about six feet long and three wide, but I recognized the general shape and geography.

“Yes, from its earliest days,” she agreed.  “Before your great cities were built.  Before your people’s
rajira
awakened.”

“It seems so . . .
small
,” I said, looking at the dusty old thing. 

“It suited their purposes.  Just over two hundred thousand square miles.  They needed a base of operations for the task of seeding the mainland.  Perwyn was ideally situated.  A good mix of arable land and natural resources, situated to all human settlements.”

“And then we sank it,” I pronounced.  “Just like us.  We just can’t have nice things.  What is this?”

“This was the cask the first of your gifts of trees arrived within,” she said, happily.  “These are conifers, I believe.”

“Trees.  Of course.  That would be the route to your kindred’s heart.”  She smiled.

“This was a gift from your gods,” she said, casually, opening a box.  “To thank us for our help in evacuating Perwyn.  Blood coral,” she said, reverently, displaying about a pound and a half of it.  That got my attention. 

Blood coral is almost as mythical as irionite.  Blood coral was fascinating stuff, thaumaturgically.  If you placed a drop of blood on it, it would “recognize” you, which made it useful for all sorts of enchantments.  Like knot coral and other sea-born magical components, only the Sea Folk traded in it, and the price was very high.  “Antyr, your sea god, bore it here when the last of the peaks sunk beneath the waves.”

“Antyr is an Imperial maritime god,” I corrected.  “My ancestors were horse lords.”

“I am still learning the variations of you cultures.  All the same, it was a noble gift,” she nodded

“So the gods have been here?  Some of them?”

“The gods,” she began, and then stopped.  “That is a . . . complex subject.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less from them.  But this gift implies that they have been here.  Physically.”

“The fact that they can manifest as independent beings is one of the hallmarks of your race.”

“You seem to know a lot about the subject.”

“Just some family lore,” she dismissed.  “I heard you were speaking with Cardareth, last evening.”

“That sorry little twerp?  Yes.  He offered to purchase my son.”

Her eyes bulged.  “He
what?”

“Minalyan.  He offered to buy him from me for research purposes.  He offered me a lot of gold.”

“Magelord, I am . . . I am appalled!  No ignorance of culture excuses such callousness!  To invite a father to sell his child . . . that violates
every
rule of hospitality!  He
knows
better!”

“Calm down, I didn’t sell him.  And to be frank, there are plenty of men in the world who would have taken up that bargain.  But it begs the question of just how important Minalyan is.  I know his birth was profound,” I began, “but he hasn’t shown any other signs of being remarkable.  He’s a normal human baby.”

“I know,” Ithalia said.  “I have examined him.  With his mother’s permission.”

“You . . . what?”

“Merely a cursory examination while you were absent, Magelord, I assure you.  Akin to the scans you do when you are worried about something.  You are correct.  He is a normal humani boy in every way.”

“Then why was Cardareth so interested in collecting him?”

“Because that idiot’s fascination with snowstone has eclipsed what little decency he had.  He is convinced that snowstone . . . well, he deeply desires learning its secrets,” she finished.  “Particularly its origins.  He feels it will prove some pet theories of his.  But it is all the more galling to him that it was a humani discovery.  He and his faction have little regard for your race.”

“I got that impression. “

“Did he mention his brother at all?” she asked, curiously.

“Only in passing.  Why?”

“His whole family is touched with this fanaticism,” she said after a moment’s thought. “He, alone, was spared exile from civilized realms because of his brilliance . . . and the intercession of some distant family.  If they were to learn of your recent fortunes, they might seize the opportunity to take what they wish by force.  Cardareth alone is incapable of such maneuverings, but his faction and his family would not hesitate to act.”

“They’ll have a fun time of it, then,” I chuckled.  “Sevendor is no longer lightly guarded.”

“It is by our standards,” she objected.  “That is one thing that my fellow emissaries and I have petitioned the council over.  We feel that Sevendor is too valuable to be left unguarded.  We have asked for permission to augment your defenses against such misguided actions.”

“Well, I wouldn’t refuse additional protection,” I said, as we left the Hall.  “But I would want to be in control of those defenses.”

“Of course, Magelord,” Ithalia agreed.  “The desire is to protect you, not take control of the mountain.  Indeed, your possession of it may have forestalled argument over its disposition among the members of the council.  As a humani, you present a neutral force in their discussions.”

“I’m not neutral,” I corrected.  “I have my own agenda.”

“As do they,” she said, simply.

“I was told Lord Aeratas is the father of Lady Fallawen,” I said.  She stopped walking abruptly.

“That is true,” she acknowledged, warily.

“As such, is there any influence she could use on my behalf?”

“I doubt that any word from Fallawen would sway her father,” she said, after consideration.  “The Lord of the Lake City is stubborn and proud, and set in his ways.”

“Just a thought.  You don’t have any influential relatives around here, do you?”

“No, Magelord,” she assured me.  “None of my kin have standing at this council.”  I don’t know if it was shame, pride, or some secret motivation, but I could tell my questions had disturbed her.  She made an excuse and departed soon thereafter.

I can’t tell you much else about that day because it passed in a blurry haze of contentment.  I saw wonders there, sculpture, plants, animals I’d never seen, and magic the purpose of which I had only the vaguest idea .  The night was filled with feasting and song in the Hall of Hospitality.  It was more casual than the previous day’s reception, and everyone was invited to participate with a tale or a song.  I even goaded Pentandra to play a bit on the lute and got Dara to sing. 

Guri I tried to keep quiet.  The voices of the Karshak are best for shouting, not singing.

We were all summoned to council the next morning, where the decisions reached after two days’ internal discussions, reports, deliberations, and considerations were finally announced. 

The chamber was full of Alka Alon, many representatives of refuges and settlements near the Penumbra, some from further out.  Nor were we the only human beings present.  I spied both the tall, aggressively handsome Ranger captain, Arborn, and the envoy of the Valley People was standing nearby.  He certainly looked like a Valley Folk man was supposed to: piercing gray eyes, rich, luxuriant hair, and arms the size of anvils.  Between the two of them, I felt positively girly.