“YOU STILL HAVEN’T SAID WHY YOU’RE TAKING US FORa carriage ride at this hour, old man,” Abbey chided Wigg. She playfully poked one elbow into his ribs. The First Wizard winced. “What are you up to?” she asked.
Even though she was as confused as the herbmistress, Shailiha smiled. “I agree,” she said. “The least you could do is to tell us what’s going on. You were so secretive back at the palace!”
Tyranny would be next in line to complain. Sitting beside the princess, she crossed her arms and scowled at the First Wizard.
“Scars and I should be with the fleet-not out on some midnight joyride!” she protested. “Much remains to be done! We sail for the Citadel tomorrow, you know! Or have you lived for so many centuries that your memory is finally starting to go?”
Shailiha snorted a short laugh down her nose, but Tyranny found no part of this mysterious trip amusing. She lit a cigarillo and angrily blew the smoke toward the carriage roof.
Scowling, Wigg took his gaze from the passing street to regard the three strong-willed women traveling with him. They could certainly be a handful. Worse, once they learned why he had asked them to come, there would be no end to their questions.
It was a cool, pleasant evening. Streetlamps cast their welcoming glow across the nondescript coach-and-four as it rattled its way down a busy Tammerland thoroughfare. Scars sat up top driving the team.
Letting go a sigh, Wigg gathered his gray robe closer against the chilly night air. He had chosen this garden-variety coach from the palace stables because he wanted no heraldic adornments giving away its passengers’ identities. The First Wizard cleared his throat.
“I’m killing two birds with one stone,” he replied. “First, I wanted to talk to you about Tristan. I needed a private place in which to do it, so I chose this coach ride. Moreover, we head to a place where I hope to unravel a riddle. You will find it interesting.
“Besides,” he went on to say, “had I not brought you along, then told you all about it later, there would have been no end to your caterwauling! Faegan agreed that this trip was needed, but he chose to stay behind to remain immersed in his work.”
At the mention of her brother, Shailiha leaned closer. “What are you talking about?” she demanded.
“The fact is, Faegan, Jessamay, and I believe Tristan might return soon,” Wigg answered.
“What!” Tyranny exclaimed. “How could you know that?”
Pursing his lips, Wigg looked thoughtfully down at his hands. “We can’t know for sure,” he answered. “But we have reasoned it through, and we believe we’re right.”
Abbey gave him a wry look. “Out with it,” she said, “or we’ll have to gang up on you.”
Wigg took a moment to gather his thoughts. “We all know that Xanthus could have killed Tristan that night during the masquerade ball, but he didn’t,” he answered. “That means that the Heretics need him for something. Then there is this equally strange business about the Darkling granting the index forestallments to Faegan’s blood. Perhaps even more important, the Darkling spoke about Tristan’s possible return. If that comes true, Faegan and I believe that Xanthus might be needed to guide Tristan home again. The azure magic that fills the pass still has us baffled-it’s like nothing we have seen before. But we are reasonably sure that a unique spell is needed to safely navigate its depths. Moreover, we have reason to believe that the Heretics alone control the pass, because no Vigors servant has exited it. If that is all true and Tristan returns, we might have to take some unusual steps on his behalf.”
“What do you mean?” Shailiha asked.
“When next we see theJin’Sai he could be a changed man,” Wigg answered soberly, “and perhaps not for the better. Why would the Heretics want him? He is untrained in magic, so he cannot add to their craft knowledge. They might want his blood to somehow help win their long-standing war against the Ones-but Faegan, Jessamay, and I can’t imagine how. In the end, we can come up with but one logical reason why they would summon him into their midst, only to return him to us.”
Although she was immensely interested in Tristan’s welfare, Shailiha was hesitant to hear what Wigg had to say. Finally her curiosity overcame her worry.
“What is it?” she asked.
Thinking, Wigg looked out the window for a time. When he returned his gaze to them, his expression was grim.
“Simply put, they want to interfere with his destiny,” he said. “And yours as well, Princess. Somehow they want to keep you and your brother from combining the craft’s opposite sides. If they return him to us a changed man, they might well succeed in doing just that.”
“But if that is the case then why return him to us at all?” Tyranny asked. “Simply keeping him on their side of the world would do that.”
“Yes,” Wigg answered, “but perhaps at a far greater risk to them, and with less effectiveness.”
“But how so?” Abbey asked. “What Tyranny said seems sensible enough.”
“At first glance, it is,” Wigg answered. “But you are forgetting something. The Ones also exist on the world’s other side-or so we believe. If that is the case, then-”
“The Ones might somehow rescue Tristan from the Heretics,” Shailiha mused. “He would then becometheir ally. It might make more sense for the Heretics to change his thinking in some way, then send him back. If his blood was gifted with their Forestallments, he could do incredible damage to the Vigors.”
“Precisely,” Wigg said to the princess. “The azure pass might be just the thing the Heretics have been wanting for aeons. They once sentK’tons through the pass to serve Wulfgar. One can only guess what might come next. Tristan, perhaps, with a Vagaries army all his own and bent on destroying the Vigors? Only time will tell.”
The travelers went quiet for a time as they considered Wigg’s ominous warning. Finally Abbey broke the silence. “You said that should Tristan return, we might have to take some unusual steps,” she said. “What did you mean?”
“If the prince comes home, we must watch him closely and perform regular examinations of his blood signature before we can rest assured that he is unaffected,” Wigg said. “We might even be forced to affect his memory, then lock him away, as we have done with the traitorous consuls. Such things are painful to imagine, I know. I don’t like it any more than you, but there it is.”
Her heart heavy, Shailiha looked out the carriage window. Tristan becoming their enemy was frightening in the extreme. Moreover, since his disappearance she felt immensely guilty about doing so little to try to find him.
But she also knew that Jessamay and the wizards were right. Trying to send someone through the azure pass without first knowing its secrets might be a death sentence. Worse, should the Heretics detect any tampering with the pass’s magic, they might somehow close it. That could make Tristan’s return impossible, imprisoning him on the other side forever. Then she remembered his last words to her, just before he disappeared with the Darkling.
“Promise me that you will attack the Citadel!”he had ordered. In truth that was all she could do. But with the Black Ships sailing tomorrow, she felt like she was abandoning him. She turned back to Wigg.
“Where are you taking us?” she asked.
Sitting back in the seat, Wigg folded his arms across his chest. “I want to learn aboutK’Shari, ” he said simply. “I think it has more to do with our problems than we might suspect. Faegan believes that besides a lifetime of martial training, the gift might also be granted by Forestallment. In fact, using his newly acquired index Forestallment, he has discovered scroll calculations to that effect. Perhaps that’s how the Heretics granted the skill to Xanthus. I know someone who might be able to shed some light on the subject. But it’s been a long time-I’m not sure I’ll be granted an audience.”
“Is learning aboutK’Shari worth our time and trouble tonight?” Tyranny asked. “We sail tomorrow!”
“I understand your concern,” Wigg answered. “But we need to learn all we can about Xanthus, and any weaknesses he might have. I believe we haven’t seen the last of him. And I have another reason for making this visit.” The wizard’s face grew wistful.
“The truth is that I need to offer my belated condolences to someone,” he said. “Since Wulfgar’s defeat, I have been negligent in that responsibility. And by coming with me, you will learn about another facet of Eutracian history. By previous agreement, the late Directorate swore never to speak of it. I am without question violating that promise. But the Directorate is no more, and I have resolved to do this thing.” His mind made up, the First Wizard stubbornly gazed out the window again.
The three women looked at one another with confusion. Shailiha was about to ask Wigg another question when Abbey shook her head. For the next quarter hour they rode in silence. As Scars finally brought the coach to a stop, Shailiha looked out the window.
The peasant-class neighborhood was shabby and forlorn. Street light was in short supply. The ramshackle houses lining either street side seemed to drunkenly lean up against one another for support, giving the princess the distinct impression that if one collapsed, the others would fall like dominoes. Whores seductively prowled the corners, while dark male figures lingered in the shadows. She couldn’t imagine an acquaintance of Wigg’s living here. The First Wizard quickly exited the coach and shut the door, purposely leaving the women behind.
Shailiha scowled. “I thought you said you were taking us with you!” she protested.
Pulling his robe closer, Wigg looked up and down the street. “If I am allowed entrance, I’ll request that you three be admitted with me,” he said. “Scars will stay with the coach. If you see me signal, you may come. Should anyone approach you, order Scars to charge the carriage up the-”
Suddenly Wigg stopped. After looking at the three perturbed women then up at the glowering Scars, he shook his head.
“On second thought, I’m more afraid for anyone trying to give you trouble than I am for you four!” he said. “Just wait here!” Turning away, he strode toward the house.
Shailiha peered at the ramshackle structure. It seemed much like the others, save for a wooden sign hanging perpendicular to the street. Craning her neck, she was surprised to see that the sign carried no words. One side bore the carved likeness of a snake; its other side carried a sword.
Wigg walked up the steps. Still hoping that he was doing the right thing, he knocked on the door. The door soon creaked opened to show a young man dressed in a dark robe. Golden light streamed from the house’s interior to cast Wigg’s elongated shadow onto the street.
“May I help you?” the fellow asked.
“I humbly request to see your master,” Wigg said. Knowing better than to say more, he remained still.
“Why?” the man asked.
“I am an old friend,” Wigg said. “I admit that my visit is unexpected. But if you tell him that Wigg is here, I believe he will see me. I have brought three friends who also seek admittance. Our visit carries some importance.”
“It’s late,” the man said. “He sees no one at this hour.”
From their places inside the carriage, the women could see that Wigg was having difficulty getting inside. It wasn’t like the First Wizard to take “no” for an answer, Shailiha realized. If this was that important to him then why didn’t he use the craft?
Then she watched Wigg do something odd with his robe-something she didn’t understand. As he did, the craft’s azure glow appeared. The young man’s eyes quickly became as large as hen’s eggs. Wigg smiled politely.
“Now then,” he asked, “may we come in?”
“Uh, er-yes, yes of course,” the fellow answered. In his hurry to open the door wider, he nearly tripped over his robe.
Turning toward the carriage, Wigg waved the women forward. Once they were atop the steps, Wigg snatched the cigarillo from Tyranny’s mouth and threw it into the street. The privateer scowled.
The man beckoned them inside. The house’s interior wasn’t what the ladies had expected. The foyer was small, but well lit and immaculately clean. The walls were constructed of wooden panes. Covered with paper, the uniform panes made it difficult to identify the doorways.
The man bowed to Wigg. “Please wait here,” he said.
After Wigg returned the bow, the man slid open one of the well-disguised doors, then disappeared, smoothly closing it after him.
Tyranny looked around. “What is this place?” she asked. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Nor are you likely to again,” Wigg answered softly. “It’s important that no one speak unless first addressed. I’m not sure about what kind of reception we might get, so do as I say. And above all, take no provocative action. Despite the fact that I command the craft, doing so will likely get you killed.”
Shailiha shot a questioning glance at Tyranny and Abbey. The privateer scowled again; Abbey simply shrugged her shoulders.
The paper-paned door silently slid open and the same young man stepped into the foyer. “The master will see you,” he said simply. “Follow me.”
Everyone stepped through the door to see a long hallway stretching before them. Like the foyer, its walls were made of paper panes. On reaching the hallway’s end, the man stopped. He bowed to Wigg.
“He awaits you,” he said.
Wigg bowed in return. “Thank you,” he answered. His job done, the man walked away.
Wigg looked closely at the curious women. “Remember what I told you!” he whispered. “And if you are asked to speak, keep your voices quiet, and your tones respectful.”
Sliding open the door, Wigg led them inside. The room was large. The floor was covered with a straw mat, and the four walls were constructed like those in the hallway. Exotic-looking weapons hung neatly on the walls. Oil lamp sconces provided soft, even light.
In the floor’s center, an elderly man sat on his knees. His eyes were closed, and his shaved head reflected the light. He wore a heavy white upper garment that crisscrossed his chest. A black, skirted affair, tied at the top with a narrow cloth belt, covered his hips and legs. His strong-looking hands lay folded in his lap. A dark wooden tray holding a porcelain tea set sat on the floor before him.
Wigg immediately sat on his knees before the stone-still man. Looking up at the women, the First Wizard indicated that they should also sit. They quickly complied to form a line on Wigg’s left. While the four visitors regarded their host, the room fell quiet.
As time passed, the accompanying silence became deafening. Wondering how long this might go on, Shailiha cast a curious glance at Tyranny. The privateer questioningly raised her eyebrows.
Finally the man opened his eyes. His gaze was sharp and penetrating. He looked straight at Wigg, then he bowed. Wigg returned the compliment. After looking at each woman, the man bowed to them in turn, then returned his riveting gaze to the First Wizard.
“Wigg,” he said softly. “It has been a long time. Because of the Directorate’s agreement, I believed we would never see one another again. Yet for some reason you have chosen to violate that accord. In truth, I cannot say that I am sorry. Why have you come, my old friend?”
“Please forgive the intrusion, Aeolus,” Wigg said. “I come bearing news-news that only I could bring. For as I’m sure you know, the Directorate is no more.”
Choosing not to respond, the man named Aeolus sat stock-still before them.
“Satine is dead,” Wigg said gently. “I learned from her tattoos that she was one of your students.”
For the briefest moment a hint of sorrow crossed Aeolus’ eyes. “Did she die a warrior’s death?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I see,” Aeolus said. “Who did the deed? Few walk the earth who could have bested her.”
“Prince Tristan,” Wigg answered. “She had him dead to rights, but she hesitated just before delivering the fatal blow. Sensing the opportunity, Tristan struck. Her death was quick. Were you two close?”
Aeolus nodded. “Satine was like a daughter to me, and perhaps the most gifted student I ever taught. She was a force of nature, that one. But she abandoned my teachings to become a professional assassin. I tried to dissuade her from that path, but I couldn’t.”
Aeolus knew that his next words would strike directly at Wigg’s heart, but the issue had to be raised. The guilt had been weighing on his soul for far too long, and he wanted to be rid of it. He took a deep breath.
“How many Conclave members did she assassinate before the prince killed her?” he asked.
Wigg’s jaw dropped, and his cheeks turned scarlet with rage. It took several moments for him to calm before speaking again. Even then, anger flashed in his aquamarine eyes.
“You knew?”he asked, his voice trembling angrily. “Why didn’t you warn us?”
“The choice forced upon me by Satine was unfathomable,” Aeolus answered. “What’s done is done, and I can only ask your forgiveness. When I learned of her plans I begged her to reconsider, but she wouldn’t. In the end I had two choices-to not warn you and let fate take its course, or to tell you and ensure that the one I loved most in this world would meet a violent death at my dearest friend’s hands.” Pausing for a moment, Aeolus looked down at the floor.
“Forgive me, but it is widely rumored that your only daughter recently died,” he said. “I am truly sorry for your loss. But tell me-if she had insisted on fulfilling some deadly mission, would you have warned her enemies that she was coming? And if not, can you justifiably condemn me for making the same choice?”
Thinking of Celeste, tears clouded Wigg’s eyes. He then blinked them away.
“I understand,” Wigg said, “but we lost two dear allies to Satine’s skills. One was Geldon, a hunchbacked dwarf with the heart of a lion. He had been invaluable in the Coven’s final defeat. The other was named Lionel the Little. He was a Shadowood gnome, and Faegan’s most trusted herbmaster. Satine poisoned them, using a clever potion she purchased from a group of partial adepts called the Valrenkians. It caused her victims to go mad, leading them to suicide while she escaped. Faegan discovered it in their blood. Did you teach her that technique?”
Aeolus shook his head. “No,” he answered. “I tried warning her against dealing with Valrenkian slime, but she wouldn’t listen.”
Stunned by what she was hearing, Shailiha cast a quick glance at Abbey. The herbmistress was staring straight at Aeolus. She looked for the world like she had just seen a ghost. Remembering what Wigg had said, the normally inquisitive princess did her best to remain silent.
“How did you find me?” Aeolus asked.
“As I’m sure you know, Minion patrols wander the city, maintaining order,” Wigg answered. “I told them to search out a sign with a serpent on one side and a sword on the other. Only yesterday they told me that they had found it.”
“I see,” Aeolus said. “And who are these lovely ladies?” he asked, turning to look at the women.
Wigg gestured toward Shailiha. “I would first like to present Shailiha of the House of Galland, Princess of Eutracia,” he said.
Aeolus bowed deeply at the waist. “Welcome, Your Highness,” he said. “This is indeed an honor.”
She bowed in return. “Thank you,” she said simply.
“And this lady is Teresa of the House of Welborne,” Wigg said. “You already know Abbey of the House of Lindstrom. All three are Conclave members.”
Aeolus bowed again. Tyranny and Abbey respectfully returned the compliment.
“It is good to see you, Abbey,” Aeolus said. “I am glad that you and Wigg have found each other again. The Directorate was wrong to have banned the partial adepts from Tammerland, but those were difficult times.”
Their mouths agape, Shailiha and Tyranny stared at Abbey with disbelief.
Aeolus reached out to fill five teacups. Everyone took one. After sipping the excellent brew, Aeolus looked at the women, then back to Wigg.
“I can tell by Shailiha’s and Teresa’s expressions that they do not know about me,” he said. He looked back at the princess and the privateer. “If you have questions, I will be happy to answer them.”
Shailiha didn’t hesitate. “Who are you?” she asked. “And how do you know so many old secrets?”
Taking another sip of tea, Aeolus smiled. “The answer is simple,” he said. “I was once a member of the Directorate of Wizards.”
The princess nearly dropped her teacup. Tyranny’s face screwed up with disbelief.
But Abbey only smiled. “It is good to see you, too, Aeolus,” the herbmistress said. “You’re right-it has been a long time.”
“More than three centuries,” Aeolus replied. “Wigg was right to grant you the time enchantments. He took a great risk, should the Directorate have found out. But with all of our old friends gone, that no longer matters.”
Shailiha finally found her voice. “You were a Directorate wizard?” she asked. “That’s impossible! I would have known about you!”
“It was long before your time,” he answered. “I decided to leave the Directorate soon after it was formed. I had had enough of war, politics, and magic. I wanted a simpler life. My Directorate brothers graciously agreed to accept my resignation and to continue granting me the time enchantments. You have never heard about me because as part of that agreement, the Directorate resolved that they would never mention me, or our pact. I doubt that even your father, the late King Nicholas, knew about me.”
“I have never seen a place like this,” Shailiha said. “What purpose does it serve?”
“It is called the Serpent and the Sword,” Aeolus answered. “It is a school of martial discipline. I am the owner and head instructor. It is also my home.”
“So that is what Wigg meant when he said that Satine was your student,” Tyranny offered. “Is that also why she bore a snake tattoo on one arm and a sword tattoo on the other? We saw your interesting sign hanging over the outer door.”
“Yes,” Aeolus answered. “The sword tattoo indicates weapons mastery, and the snake indicates mastery of unarmed combat. Satine had conquered each discipline. Such experts are few. Before the Directorate was formed, I was a Royal Guard officer. During that time I studied these disciplines. When I left the Directorate I decided to devote my life to carrying on my master’s teachings. I still command the craft. But as part of my lifestyle, I choose not to do so.”
“There are some things that you need to know,” Wigg said to him. “They will surprise you.” Taking his gaze from Shailiha, Aeolus turned his dark eyes toward the First Wizard.
“Faegan and Jessamay are still alive,” Wigg said. “They have also become Conclave members. They are well, although Faegan is crippled from being tortured by the Coven, soon after he disappeared. His legs are useless and cause him great anguish, but he controls the pain by partitioning his mind. He searches endlessly for a way to unravel the spell Failee used on him. Unfortunately, he has not been successful.”
“I see,” Aeolus answered. “I am glad they are with you. Please give them my regards, and my hope that Faegan finds a cure.”
“There is something else you should know,” Wigg said. “It is vastly important to all we hold dear.”
Saying nothing, Aeolus took another sip of tea.
“Thirty-one years ago, Jin’Sai andJin’Saiou were born. The Chosen Ones have finally entered the world.”
For several moments Aeolus said nothing. Wonderment filled his face. “They have finally come?” he whispered. “Can it be true?”
“Yes,” Wigg answered.
“And the azure glow surrounded their twin births, just as the Tome said it would?”
“Yes,” Wigg confirmed. “As you know, that was how we could be certain.”
“Who are they?” Aeolus asked.
“TheJin’Sai is Prince Tristan. TheJin’Saiou is Princess Shailiha.”
Awestruck, Aeolus looked at Shailiha with even greater respect. “Welcome, Jin’Saiou, ” he said. “We have awaited your arrival for centuries.” Aeolus bowed again. Shailiha bowed in return.
“I have come here for another reason as well,” Wigg said. “I need your help.”
“You have but to ask,” Aeolus said.
“What do you know aboutK’Shari?”
Thinking for a moment, Aeolus poured himself some more tea. After taking a sip he put down his cup then looked at Wigg.
“I am not surprised that you have heard about it,” he answered. “However, despite the many legends, to my knowledge I am the only living person in the world who commands the gift. But I never discussed it with you, or other Directorate members. After all these years, why do you ask about it?”
“TheJin’Sai has been lured away by a Vagaries being named Xanthus,” Wigg answered, “who is also known as a Darkling, and serves the Heretics of the Guild. Until several days ago, I never knew about such a creature. It was evident that he commandedK’Shari. Should he return, I will need to know more about this special talent.”
Aeolus shook his head. “I doubt that this Xanthus truly commands the gift,” he said. “As I stated, I believe I am the only one to possess it.”
“Before arriving at the palace, Xanthus sent Tristan a blank scroll and a freshly cut tree branch,” Wigg said. “Witnesses saw Xanthus cut the branch in half in midair.”
It was clear that Aeolus was intrigued. “Go on,” he said softly.
“Later at the palace he used his gift,” Wigg said. “Tossing his axe into the air, he cut a flier of the fields in half while the butterfly was in flight. He never bothered looking at his target. I have never seen anything like it.”
His gaze intense, Aeolus leaned forward. “Tell me,” he said. “Just before he threw his axe did he say anything odd-an oath, perhaps?”
“Yes,” Wigg nodded. “He said: ‘My ears hear no begging. My eyes see no pain. My heart feels no remorse.’ It is also said that a long time ago, a sword master first showedK’Shari to an impudent young Royal Guard officer as a way to spare killing him in a duel. Have you ever heard the phrase or the story?”
Like he was being taken back in time, Aeolus closed his eyes. When he opened them, his expression softened.
“Yes,” he answered gently. “You see, I was that Royal Guard officer, and those words were my master’s. It was before I met you, and before I learned about my endowed blood. The martial master who saved my life by refusing my stupid challenge was the same man from whom I took over this school. As you know, in my early youth I was a penniless orphan. Joining the Royal Guard seemed the best way to raise myself up from the streets where I lived and begged. But for a long time after that I foolishly felt that I had much to prove-thus the unnecessary challenge to the master. By showing meK’Shari he not only saved my life, but forever changed my path, as well. Little did I know that I would one day rise to become a wizard of the Directorate. Even so, I never forgot him. I never told my fellow Directorate members about the story because I found it embarrassing.”
Aeolus gently cupped his tea in one hand. His eyes held a faraway look.
“Despite my earlier misgivings, it seems that you are right,” he added. “Someone-or something, as you describe this Darkling-has also mastered the gift. It takes a lifetime to do so. If what you say about him serving the Heretics is true, then they must have excellent teachers among them.”
“Not necessarily,” Wigg said. “Faegan has reason to believe that Xanthus was giftedK’Shari by Forestallment.”
Surprised again, Aeolus put down his teacup. “Do you mean to say that Forestallments exist?” he whispered. “The Directorate’s best minds always considered them myth! Even Faegan was unconvinced!”
“Oh, Forestallments exist,” Wigg answered. “We continue to unravel their secrets little by little. What can you tell us that might help? I fear we haven’t seen the last of Xanthus. Not only does he commandK’Shari, but the craft, as well.”
“I don’t understand,” Aeolus said. “If he was such a threat, then why didn’t you, Faegan, and Jessamay combine your gifts to kill him there and then?”
“Because by then he had already stolen the Paragon,” Wigg answered sadly. “We were attending a masquerade ball and didn’t have a ready cave water supply, so killing him meant also killing the stone. Normally I would have had some in a vial, hanging around my neck. But as I said, it was a masquerade-the vial was in my chambers. I’m not sure I will ever forgive myself for that blunder. It will never happen again.”
“I see,” Aeolus answered.
“Why do the plants die whenever Xanthus appears?” Abbey asked. “According to witnesses, the wind also calms, birds and insects stop singing, and rivers refuse to flow.”
“Because when he calls his gift he projects a stillness so overpowering that it literally affects the forces of nature,” Aeolus answered. “It is the same with me.”
“Did Satine commandK’Shari?” Wigg asked.
Aeolus shook his head. “She knew about the legend, but even she did not know that I commanded the gift. Had she stayed with me, I have little doubt that Satine would have been the first to whom I would have gladly imparted the needed training. She was that good.”
“Is there anything else you can tell us?” Wigg asked.
“Only thatK’Shari is an amazingly potent discipline,” Aeolus answered, “one that can be used to either save life or to destroy it. Clearly, Xanthus is a destroyer. If you face him again, my friend, use only the craft. Even you will not be able to defeat him physically.”
Abbey scowled. “What do mean by that?”
Aeolus looked at Wigg. “They do not know?” he asked.
“No,” Wigg answered. “I had planned on telling them before we left here-provided that you agreed to see me.”
“I understand,” Aeolus answered.
Standing, Aeolus walked to one wall. With unimaginable speed he grasped a short sword hanging there. His arm a blur, he threw it end over end, straight at Wigg’s head.
Shailiha gasped. Even Tristan couldn’t summon such quickness. If Wigg couldn’t bring the craft soon enough, he would die where he sat.
Raising his arms, Wigg held them wide. Then they all heard a sharp slap. Shailiha’s mouth fell open.
Wigg had caught the sword blade between his hands. As though nothing had happened, he calmly laid it beside him on the floor. Relieved but incensed, Shailiha immediately sprang to her feet and pointed an accusatory finger at Aeolus.
“How dare you!” she shouted. “That’s the First Wizard sitting there! Had he not been able to summon the craft in time he would have been killed! I could have you strung up from a lamp pole for less!”
Wigg winced at the princess’s rude behavior. “Please sit down,” he said.
Confused by Wigg’s calm acceptance of all this, Shailiha reluctantly did as he asked.
Aeolus smiled. “Excitable, isn’t she?” he asked Wigg.
The First Wizard sighed. “As is her brother,” he answered. “You have no idea.”
“I also demand that one of you tell us why that just happened!” Tyranny exclaimed. “We didn’t come here to be attacked!”
“Wigg was never in danger,” Aeolus said. “Nor did he use the craft to save himself. You see, it wasn’t needed.”
“It wasn’t needed?”Shailiha protested. “Of course it was! No one is that fast!”
Wigg looked over at her. “Aeolus is right,” he said quietly. Standing, Wigg pulled back each robe sleeve. As the craft’s familiar glow surrounded him, then faded away, the three women couldn’t believe their eyes.
A serpent lay tattooed on Wigg’s right upper arm; a sword tattoo had materialized on his other. As the azure glow faded, the tattoos vanished. After rolling down his sleeves, Wigg sat down.
Shaking her head in disbelief, Shailiha simply stared at him. “Satine’s arms carried those same symbols!” she breathed. “They can mean only one thing-you’re also a graduate of the Serpent and the Sword!” Turning leftward, Shailiha glared at Abbey. “Did you know about this?” she demanded.
Pursing her lips, Abbey crossed her arms. “No,” she answered, “I did not. It seems a certain First Wizard has some explaining to do when we return to the palace.”
Shailiha looked back at Wigg. Sometimes it seemed that the longer she knew him, the less she understood him. Wizards and their infernal secrets!
“I don’t know which question to ask first,” she said to him. “Where, when, or why?”
“The ‘when’ took place several hundred years ago,” Wigg answered. “The Sorceresses’ War had recently been won. I had just returned from banishing the Coven upon the Sea of Whispers. I’m not ashamed to admit that those were emotional times for me-for all us wizards, in fact. During the Directorate’s early days we members made more than our share of mistakes. The newly formed Directorate had just ordered me to cast the traitorous Coven adrift forever. Failee, Succiu, Zabarra, and Vona-I can still see their defiant faces as they stood there on theResolve ’s pitching deck, just before I ordered them into that fragile skiff.
Pausing for a moment, Wigg scrubbed his face with his hands. Shailiha touched him on one arm.
“It’s all right,” she said. “You needn’t tell us if you would rather not.”
Wigg shook his head. “I knew this would be wrenching, but it was one of the reasons I brought you three here.” Collecting himself, he sat up a bit straighter.
“As I said, it was a difficult time for me,” he said. “Then I found Abbey and my happiness briefly returned. But when the Directorate foolishly voted to banish all the partial adepts to the countryside, I had another choice to ponder. I could either go with Abbey and start my life over, or stay on as a Directorate wizard and continue to serve the Vigors. I chose the second path. But before watching Abbey go I secretly granted her the time enchantments.”
Looking at the herbmistress, he finally produced a brief smile. “It was a decision that I never regretted,” he added softly. Smiling back at him, Abbey nodded her thanks.
“Anyway, by then Aeolus was not only a respected Directorate member but also a martial master in his own right,” Wigg added. “During that time I needed a newfound serenity that I couldn’t find in politics or in the craft. Aeolus agreed to teach me. For the next decade he trained me in the Redoubt, during whatever spare time we could muster.”
Wigg looked respectfully into Aeolus’ eyes. “I thank you for that,” he said. “It was you and your training that helped me to find my spirit again. When I saw Satine’s tattoos I realized that she was one of us. I was shocked, but I also knew that I needed to come and see you-not only for the Vigors, but for personal reasons as well.”
After taking a deep breath, Wigg continued. “I know how you came to feel about the craft, Aeolus, but times have changed. We must change with them. I don’t suppose that you could be enticed into joining the Conclave, could you? Our meeting table still has an empty chair-the one my daughter once held. Full-fledged Vigors wizards are few and far between these days. We could surely use your help. Like Faegan and Jessamay, it would be good to have you at my side again.” Pausing for a moment, Wigg turned to look at Shailiha, then back to Aeolus.
“I do not presume to speak on the princess’s behalf,” he added, “but in theJin’Sai ’s continued absence I believe she would heartily accept your membership. The Vigors desperately need our services again. Since the Coven’s destructive return and subsequent defeat, our obstacles have been legion. All we hold dear is again in great peril.”
For several moments Aeolus looked at the floor. When he returned his eyes to Wigg’s, the four visitors could see how much he still respected the First Wizard.
“Thank you, Wigg,” Aeolus said. “But my life is here. If I accepted, what would happen to my school? I have over fifty male and female students. Some have devoted their entire adult lives to my teachings, and live in residence here with me. I simply can’t pack up and leave.”
For several moments the room went still. Wigg looked over at Shailiha. Understanding his intent, she smiled back, then returned her gaze to Aeolus.
“You could relocate the school to the palace,” she offered. “The Redoubt already hosts academies for the consuls’ gifted children and for the Redoubt acolytes. The Serpent and the Sword would make a welcome addition!”
Shailiha smiled broadly at her next thought. “From what I’ve seen, perhaps you and your students could even teach the Minions a thing or two about the combative arts!” she added. “That would be a scene worth watching!”
Tyranny smiled. “It would indeed,” she muttered under her breath.
A quizzical look came over Aeolus’ face. “I know about the Consuls’ Nursery,” he said. “But who are the Redoubt acolytes?”
Sighing, Wigg smiled. “Like I said, many things have changed.”
Thinking, Aeolus rubbed his chin. “I will consider your kind offer,” he said. “In the meantime, there is one way I might be able to help.”
“What do you have in mind?” Wigg asked.
“You said that Faegan has found the formula for grantingK’Shari directly to one’s blood signature?” he asked.
Wigg nodded.
“Amazing,” Aeolus said. “I know nothing about Forestallments. But it occurs to me that simply placing the spell into one’s blood might not be enough. K’Shari mastery is immensely complex; some purely physical training might also be needed to properly hone the gift. Should you grant it to someone’s blood, be sure to send him or her to me before sending them into battle. I would be honored to polish their technique.”
Wigg smiled. “Thank you,” he said. “We’ll keep that in mind.” He turned to the three women sitting by his side. “It’s time to go,” he said. “We have imposed on Aeolus’ hospitality long enough.”
Wigg came to his feet; Shailiha, Tyranny, and Abbey did the same. Wigg opened the sliding door and escorted the ladies into the hallway, then back to the school’s street entrance. Aeolus followed them. As Aeolus opened the front door he turned to face Wigg. The look on his face was thoughtful.
“If you can someday forgive me for your friends’ deaths at Satine’s hands, I might just accept that Conclave seat,” he said. “You’re right-times have changed, and we must change with them. Until then, journey safely, and give my regards to Faegan, Jessamay, and theJin’Sai. ”
For several long moments Wigg embraced Aeolus. Holding him by the shoulders, the First Wizard looked him in the eyes.
“You’re already forgiven,” he said, “just as I hope you can forgive me for breaking our accord. And the offer stands.”
Leaving the school, the four visitors walked to the carriage. After watching them board the coach and ride away, Aeolus shut the door, then walked back down the long hallway, entered the same room as before, and sat down on the straw mat. The school was quiet, the hour late.
Picking up his teacup, the martial master thought about his old friends, and what it might be like to serve on the Conclave.