“Here.” Shiv led us to three plain seats to the immediate side of the great door. I leaned back in my chair, observing the scene, looking for any clues to which way the tides would be running. All conversation halted for a moment as Planir swept in, Otrick and Usara in his train, all dressed in formal robes of shining silk. I remembered the old wizard, Otrick, from our voyage back from the Ice Islands when he had looked no better than a pirate, braiding the winds in his hands to destroy the Elietimm ships pursuing us. Now he looked every measure the mage as he strode briskly across the yellow flagstones, an azure gown resplendent with embroidery, the sinuous shape of a dragon just apparent amid the design of clouds, if you knew to look it out.
Usara was wearing an amber robe rather than the undistinguished brown I had always seen him in previously. Silver thread was worked down the front to frame gemstones highlighting a complex pattern of angled lines. For a man who usually seemed so diffident there was no trace of hesitation in his step; he carried his head high, a fine rod of white gold in one hand. Planir reached his seat and turned in his heel to survey the waiting wizards, drawing all eyes irresistibly to him. He was all in black, the cut of his robe impeccable, discreet ebony embroidery on the darkness, a touch of sable at the collar for a hint of luxury, hair close-cropped and face clean-shaven, eyes bright and dangerous. He put me in mind of a raven, watching and waiting, ready to fly through a rainbow carrying tidings to the Eldritch Kin, their concerns beyond mortal ken. As their Archmage stood there, silent, expectant, the various mages rapidly found their places, the last to seat himself in a highly polished and canopied chair, a fat man in an overelaborate mantle of red velvet flames.
Planir raised a hand and I expected him to speak, but instead a metallic whisper at my side made me turn my head to the door. As I watched, the great straps of iron that bound the wood spread themselves, shimmering and running into each other and over the door jambs to seal the entrance with a solid sheet of metal. Livak and I exchanged a dubious glance.
“So, you have all had a report of what Mentor Tonin’s rites have discovered for us, through the D’Alsennin sword and the courage of Ryshad Tathel.” I kept my face impassive as Planir nodded a brief acknowledgment in my direction before continuing briskly. “I do not propose to reiterate this information; time is pressing, so I will open the floor to debate.”
Wizards on all sides looked at each other; this was clearly some departure from established practice. I was not surprised to see the fat man in red was the first on his feet, his expression eager.
“I think, Archmage, that these researches are now quite clearly complete. You have been telling us for several seasons now that your aim is to establish the fate of this colony, and now you have your answer. While it is always interesting to be able to put such a firm conclusion to a question of historical record and, I will allow, it is a rare achievement, there is now nothing more to be said on the subject. The colony failed, these people are lost and now we must turn our minds to more pressing matters.”
The wizard adopted a lordly pose, one plump and lavishly beringed hand resting on his chest. “It is time wizardry began to play an active role in the affairs of the mainland and I can see no more opportune time when we have clear evidence of such a threat causing such concern to the Princes of Tormalin. We have been keeping our peace at your insistence while Mentor Tonin and his scholars attempted to complete their researches, but now we must act. I know your modesty will not permit you to take all the credit, Planir, but this Council should know that you, in your office as Archmage, have taken considerable pains to locate and trace the movements of the envoys from these Ice Islands who are even now attempting to undermine the security of Tormalin and the ocean coast. The business of this Council must be to decide how we are to rid the mainland of these insidious vermin. In doing so, not only will we put paid to their schemes in short order but we will also demonstrate our undoubted right to participate in the decisions of the ruling classes, wherever they may be.”
“You are very confident of your ability to drive out these Elietimm, Kalion.” A sturdy woman in crimson with a no-nonsense expression spoke, rising from a chair on the far side of the sealed door from me. “May I ask how you propose to combat a magic we patently still fail to understand?”
“I remain to be convinced that this aetheric artifice is such a threat as has been suggested.” Kalion’s reply was patronizing enough to set my teeth on edge; he had barely sat long enough for his broad arse to dent his cushion before getting to his feet again. “The scholars who have been researching it for many seasons now have little more to show for their pains than festival tricks and curiosities.”
Livak stirred beside me and I knew she was remembering the savage sorcery that the Elietimm had wielded to such dire effect on our trip to their cursed islands. I blinked on a sudden memory that had to be Temar’s; of the ship, the Eagle, her rails lined with the mindless bodies of her crew, and I struggled to conceal a shiver of apprehension.
“I rather think you’re missing the point, Kalion.” The woman was unbothered by the big man’s superior attitude. “The question is not what we can achieve with this enchantment, it is rather what these Elietimm can do.”
“Surely the Archmage’s information makes such questions irrelevant?” Kalion flicked his hand in a throwaway gesture. “The basis for this magic was destroyed along with the Empire, if his conjectures are correct, as I am sure they are.”
“What about all this nonsense in the Archipelago, this cult of the Dark Queen or whatever it was?” objected a mage with a Lescari accent, looking up from a handful of notes. “Isn’t that a clear attempt by the Elietimm to create a focus of belief so as to provide themselves with a source of power?”
“You know, I’ve been wondering about that,” his neighbor said eagerly. “Do you think this means there is a limit on the distance over which they can draw on this aetheric potential? Are they in any sense cut off from the power vested in their home islands when they are on the mainland?”
I kept my face expressionless as several others joined the discussion and Kalion seated himself reluctantly, still leaning forward, ready to be first to his feet again. If the Convocation ran their debates in Toremal like this, the great Houses would never have risen anew above the Chaos. Shouldn’t one of the Archmage’s roles be to conduct this Council? I looked at Planir as I was thinking this but, seeing the keenness in his eyes, concluded things were indeed taking just the course he wanted.
“I have a more pertinent question regarding the collapse of this aetheric magic.” A short but sturdy man in blue rose to his feet on the far side of the chamber. “This new tale takes us up to the loss of the colony but I still do not see how the Artifice, aetheric magic, call it what you will, was in fact destroyed. I thought the whole purpose of these highly risky proceedings was to discover this very thing? What progress has been made on this issue?”
“We have been giving the matter our closest attention, Rafrid,” Usara spoke up and walked swiftly to the center of the room, rod in hand. “We contend that it is all a matter of balance. I would remind you all that such concepts of harmony and symmetry were central to Ancient Tormalin religious practice, albeit those ideas have been largely obscured in later liturgy.” As he spoke, he lifted the rod to a level with his eyes and then removed his hand, leaving the gleaming metal bar hanging in the empty air. “The scholar Geris Armiger established, I think beyond argument, that this aetheric magic draws its power from the unconscious potential of the mind, a capacity greatly enhanced when those minds are focused on a common loyalty or belief. Forgive me, I know you will all have read the relevant dissertation.”