“Um…the ah…”
“Do you or don’t you?”
“I’m thinking.”
“Think faster; this is no time for slow wits.”
“Yes, I remember. Lord, but you’ve gotten testy.”
“I’ll apologize later. Now, when we get up there you are going to stand in the middle of the platform on the mark laid out on the floor as the apex. You will begin and maintain the Plesieantic Phrase. Start with the Gathering Incantation, when you do you will likely feel a bit more of a jolt than you would normally because this place will amplify your power to gather resources. Don’t be alarmed, don’t stop the incantation, and whatever you do, don’t scream.”
Arista looked fearfully back at Royce.
“Once you feel the power moving through your body, begin the Torsonic Chant. As you do you will need to form the crystal-matrix with your fingers, making certain you fold inward not outward.”
“So with my thumbs pointing out and the rest of my fingers pointing at me, right?”
“Yes,” Esrahaddon said irritated. “This is all basic formations, Arista.”
“I know it, I know it—it’s just been a while. I’ve been busy being Melengar’s ambassador, not sitting in my tower practicing conjurations.”
“So you’ve been frivolously wasting your time?”
“No,” she said, exasperated.
“Now, when you’ve completed the matrix,” the wizard went on, “just hold it. Remember the concentration techniques I taught you and focus on keeping the matrix even and steady. At that point, I will tap into your power field and conduct my search. When I do, this room is likely to do some extraordinary things. Images and visions will become visible at various places in the room and you might even hear sounds. Again don’t be alarmed, they aren’t really here, they will merely be echoes of my mind as I search for the amulets.”
“Does that mean all of us will be able to see who the real heir is?” Royce asked as they reached the top.
Esrahaddon nodded. “I would like to have kept it to myself, but fate has seen fit to force me a different way. When I find the magical pulse of the amulets I will focus on the owners and they will likely appear as the largest image in the room as I will be concentrating to determine not only who wears them, but where they are as well.”
The platform was only faintly dust covered and they could easily see the massive converging geometric lines marked on the floor like rays of the sun, all gathering to a single point in the exact center of the dais.
“Them?” Arista asked as she took her position at the central point.
“There were two necklaces, one I gave to Nevrik which will be the heir’s amulet and the other to Jerish which will be the bodyguard’s. If they still exist, we should see both. I would ask that you not tell anyone what you are about to see, for if you do you could put the heir’s life in immense danger and possibly imperil the future of mankind as we know it.”
“Wizards and their drama,” Royce rolled his eyes. “A simple please keep your mouth shut would do.”
Esrahaddon raised an eyebrow at the thief, then turned to Arista and said, “Begin.”
Arista hesitated. Sauly had to be wrong. All that talk about the heir having the power to enslave mankind was just to frighten her into being their spy. His warnings that Esrahaddon was a demon must be more lies. He was secretive certainly, but not evil. He had saved her life tonight. What had Sauly done? How many days before Braga’s death had Saldur known…and done nothing? Too many.
“Arista?” Esrahaddon pressed.
She nodded, raised her hands and began the weave.
Chapter 14: As Darkness Falls
The night wind blew gently across the hilltop. Hadrian and Theron stood alone on the ruins of the manor above what had been a village. A place of countless hopes that lay buried in ash and wreckage.
Theron felt the breeze on his skin and remembered the ill wind he felt the night his family died. The night Thrace ran to him. He could still see her as she raced down the slope of Stony Hill, running to the safety of his arms. He had thought that was the worst day of his life. He had cursed his daughter for coming to him. He blamed her for the death of his family. He put on her all the woe and despair that he had been too weak to carry. She was his little girl, the one who always walked beside him wherever he went, and when he shooed her away, as he always did, he would catch her following at a distance, watching him, mimicking his actions and his words. Thrace was the one who laughed at his faces, cried when he was hurt, the one who sat at his bedside when he lay with fever. He never had a good word for his daughter. Never a pat or praise that he could remember. Not once did he ever say he was proud of her. Most of the time he had not acknowledged her at all. But he would gladly give his own life merely to see his little girl run to him again, just once more.
Theron stood shoulder to shoulder with Hadrian. He held the broken blade hidden beneath his clothes, ready to draw it out in an instant to appease the beast if needed. Hadrian held the false blade the dwarf had fashioned, and he, too, kept it hidden explaining that if the Gilarabrywn knew in advance where its prize was, it might not bother with the trade. Magnus and Tobis waited down the hill out of sight behind a hunting blind of assembled wreckage while Tomas worked at making Hilfred and Mauvin as comfortable as possible at the bottom of the hill.
The moon had risen and climbed above the trees and still the beast had not come. The torches Hadrian had lit in a circle around the hilltop were burning out. Only a few remained, but it did not seem to matter, as the moon was bright and with the canopy of leaves gone, they could see well enough to read a book.
“Maybe it’s not coming,” Tomas said to them climbing up the hill. “Maybe it wasn’t supposed to be tonight or maybe I was just hearing things. I’ve never been very good with the Old Speech.”
“How’s Mauvin?” Hadrian asked.
“The bleeding stopped. He’s sleeping peacefully now. I covered him in a blanket and created a pillow for him from a spare shirt. He and the soldier Hilfred should—”
There came a cry from the tower that turned their heads. To his amazement, Theron saw a brilliant explosion of white light flare at the pinnacle of the tower. It was there one moment and then faded as suddenly as it had appeared.
“What in the name of Maribor was that?” Theron asked.
Hadrian shook his head. “I don’t know, but if I had to guess I’d say Royce had something to do with it.”
There was another cry from the Gilarabrywn, this one louder.
“Whatever it was,” Hadrian told him, “I think it’s headed our way.”
Behind them, they could faintly hear Tomas praying.
“Put in a good word for Thrace, Tomas,” Theron told him.