So long as Szass Tam acted in accordance with this new limitation, he might be able to function effectively. And if he shared his insights with his necromancers, they too-
He sighed. No. For the most part, they couldn't, not anytime soon, because they weren't immortal archmages with his breadth and depth of learning. Most of them had only ever studied Thayan thaumaturgy, and it would take time to retrain them. By then, his rivals, wielding the brute strength of their legions, might gain such a decisive advantage that even sorcery couldn't counter it.
He had to find another way to stave off defeat, and after a time, an idea occurred to him. It would require another divination, and he summoned a blue crystal globe into his hand. For the time being, he'd had his fill of opening windows into the infinite.
The world of mortal men in general, and of warriors in particular, was good for Mirror. It filled him like water filled a cup, or perhaps it unblocked a spring of essence that welled up inside him. Either way, it dulled the ache of emptiness.
Yet despite its solace, he sometimes felt obliged to let go of it. He needed to step into a place that, he'd posited, on one of the rare occasions when his thoughts were clear enough for such conjectures, existed only within himself. In effect, he turned himself inside out like a pocket.
Whatever and wherever the place was, it was dangerous, for so far as he'd ever discovered, nothing existed there but a cold whisper of wind that rubbed away at everything his commerce with the material world had given him. For that reason, he never stayed long. He opened himself to its corrosive power then hastily retreated, like a man fingering a sore tooth then snatching his hand away.
Yet now he tarried, for instinct told him there truly was something to find, something the living world could never provide. And though he had no idea what it was, if he recovered it, perhaps he could mend an ill and wash away dishonor.
So he took a stride and then another, fading with every pace.
The wings of her many bodies beating, Tammith peered into the darkness. She, Bareris, and a half dozen griffon riders were scouting ahead of the combined hosts of Eltabbar, Tyraturos, and Pyarados, looking for signs of the enemy, the blue fire, or any hazards the flames might have created.
It had certainly passed that way, scouring away vegetation and sculpting the earth into spires and arches. Eviscerated, virtually pulverized, the remains of a herd of cattle littered a field. A single survivor dragged itself along, lowing piteously.
Even for a vampire, it was unpleasant to see nature herself tormented in this fashion. Baring her many fangs, Tammith sought to snarl the feeling away.
A griffon screeched. "What's that?" its rider called.
It's just Solzepar, fool, Tammith thought, right where it's supposed to be. She could make out the dark shape of the town below, at the point where the road north from Zolum intersected the great highway called the Eastern Way.
On first inspection, it looked as if the wave of blue fire had missed Solzepar, for there was the town, still standing. Then a great crashing and crunching sounded from the midst of the shops and houses. It was like the start of another earthquake, but few of the structures and trees were swaying.
An island of earth and rock within the city rose from its surroundings like a cork popping out of a bottle. A wooden house straddled the edge and the separation tore it in two. The half that ascended disintegrated, raining boards and furniture onto the part below.
The chunk of earth rose high before slowing to a stop, and Tammith saw it was the latest addition to an archipelago of small floating islands ripped from the town below. A number of them supported buildings that were still intact.
The vampire realized she'd done the griffon rider an injustice by deeming him a fool. It was this prodigy, not the mere sighting of Solzepar, that had elicited his outcry.
Bareris climbed high enough to inspect the islands from above. Tammith and the other scouts followed. No lights burned in any of the houses-nor, she realized, in any of the parts of Solzepar that remained earthbound-and she didn't see anyone moving around.
"Fall back and descend," Bareris ordered. He seemed to speak in a normal tone, but his bardic skills projected his voice across the sky.
The scouts touched down several hundred paces from the edge of the town, in a field where the new spring grass had taken on a crystalline appearance, gleaming in the moonlight. Averse to having such uncanny stuff beneath its feet, one griffon clawed chunks of earth away.
Tammith's bats whirled around one another, and she shifted to human form. When she did, Bareris's appearance stung her somehow. He looked haggard, fierce, and sad at the same time. She reminded herself she didn't care. Creatures like her were incapable of it.
"Well," Bareris said, "we see them. The question is, what to make of them? Captain Iltazyarra, did you hear anything about floating rocks before you fled the Keep of Sorrows?"
"No," she said.
"That's too bad. Malark's people haven't reported anything about them, either."
"We know the blue fire passed this way," another soldier said, unclipping a waterskin from his saddle. "Maybe it went through Solzepar, changed the ground somehow, and now we get… this."
"That's a reasonable guess," Bareris said, "for it certainly seems as if the flame can do anything. But up until now, everything that has been changed or destroyed has been affected immediately, at least as far as we know. But we have to consider the possibility that a contingent of necromancers is creating hanging islands."
"Because they know our army is coming this way," Tammith said.
"Yes. And since we would pass under their aerial stronghold, the enemy could rain destruction on our heads."
The soldier who'd spoken before wiped his mouth and stuck the stopper back in his waterskin. "If we're worried about it, the army can just steer clear of them."
"We can," Bareris said, "but only by leaving the road, which slows the march. The tharchions won't do that unless it's proven to be necessary. It's our job to determine whether it is."
"Does that mean prowling around on top of the rocks?" another warrior asked.
"Yes," Bareris said, "but maybe not all of them. One of the larger fragments has a walled stone house on it, grander and more defensible than the buildings on any of the others. It's the structure I'd occupy if I were going to install myself up there, and it's where we'll begin our search. Up!" He kicked his mount in the flanks, and it spread its wings and sprang into the air.
They all climbed above the island, then spiraled down toward it. When they landed in the courtyard, symbols graven above the door became visible, stylized representations of a lightning bolt, a snowflake, and other emblems of elemental forces with a hand hovering above as if to manipulate them all. The place was, or had been, a chapterhouse of the Order of Evocation.
"This," said Bareris, "looks like an ideal place for necromancers to set up shop." He swung himself off his griffon and his subordinates dismounted. Tammith changed to her human form.
Bareris climbed the steps to the sharply arched door and tried the handle. "Locked," he said.
"Perhaps by enchantment," Tammith said.
"With luck, it won't matter." He sang, and his magic set sparkling motes dancing in the air. Tammith remembered how amazed he'd been the first time he'd sung and produced not merely melody but a green shimmer and the scent of pine, the moment when he'd discovered he was a true bard. Once they realized what it meant, she'd felt just as elated.