"We have all seen our friends and colleagues… vanish. In the past moonturns we have been told that they conspire with Wildmages, or Commons, or Selken Traders, or we have been told nothing at all. This day we have seen with our own eyes the creatures from the Black Days seize Lord Lycaelon. Lord Cilarnen tells you that they mean to use him to end our world. Do you wish to do their work for them? Today I have seen unicorns, and dragons, and creatures my masters in the Art Magickal have told me were only illusion, as real as my own flesh. If we do not believe this truth, we will not live to see another sunrise. And by the spells that bind me still, if this were treason I would be dead before you now."
"We must vote," Lorins said, a whimper in his voice.
"Vote?" Idalia demanded. "What in the name of Leaf and Star can you possibly have to vote on?"
"Nevertheless," Lord Ganaret said, "everything must be done in the proper form. If you wish our help, madame, all must be done by the will of the Council as a whole. Now, I pray you, withdraw and leave us to our deliberations."
Ganaret waved a hand dismissively, indicating that the three of them should step back to the center of the room.
* * * * *
RELUCTANTLY, Idalia and Jermayan did as they were bid. Rather than join them, Cilarnen crossed the room to where his father stood. "My Lord Father," he said, bowing his head.
"You dress the part of a mountebank," Volpiril said, smiling faintly. "It is cold outside the City walls," Cilarnen said. "I have misjudged you," Volpiril said.
"No, Father, I think you judged me well enough. Let me remove the spells that bind you. We will need all your gifts."
"You will need me, you think, to bring the Council to heel," Lord Volpiril said.
"If you can," Cilarnen answered steadily.
He knew, from the brief viewings he had done of the Council and the City and what Idalia had told him of her own scrying while it had still been possible for Wildmages to see into City lands and the City itself that things had been very strange and difficult here since he had left. His father had always been an ambitious man, placing his ambition before everything, even his own son. But among the High Mages, ambition and the good of the City were one, at least among the best of them.
In this moment of greatest danger, after seeing the City suffer around him for so long, having seen their ancient Enemy in the flesh at last, Volpiril would do what needed to be done so that Armethalieh might live.
"Lycaelon's whelp is a Wildmage," Volpiril pointed out, nodding toward Idalia.
Cilarnen smiled. "Both of them are, Father. And Kellen is my closest friend."
Volpiril raised his eyebrows. "Ah. Well. House Volpiril has always had a talent for advantageous alliances. If you can unbind the spells of the Arch-Mage of Armethalieh, I suppose I must learn to trust your judgment."
Cilarnen withdrew his wand from inside his robe. The spells binding his father were not so much complex as powerful. They fed into the very structure of the City itself. But his power was greater, fed by the Land.
Cilarnen traced a glyph in the air, and whispered a quiet word.
Green fire raced over Volpiril's body, and the High Mage gasped.
"I am free," he said.
* * * * *
"I am afraid the Council can come to no determination regarding your petition," Lord Harith said. "We must, therefore, request that you leave us to deliberate further before we may call the vote. Be certain that we will "
Before Harith could finish speaking, Volpiril strode up the steps and seated himself in Lycaelon's seat.
"I take, once again, my seat on the Council," he announced. "As my son is no traitor, I see no reason to forgo my place. Harith, stop making those unpleasant faces. As you know perfectly well, the Lady Idalia is Lord Lycaelon's daughter, and irregular as it is for a woman to speak in Council, this is a day of many irregularities. Next, I believe that having heard Cilarnen Volpiril's Truthspelled testimony, no further deliberation is necessary: What he has said beneath the compulsion of the High Magick and the Eternal Light is certainly truth beyond all disputation. Is there any among you that wishes to argue this point?"
None of the members of the High Council said a single word. A look of satisfaction settled over Lord Volpiril's features.
"Excellent. I am pleased to see that none of you would wish to shame your tutors by forgetting your first lessons in the Art Magickal. Having settled to all of our satisfactions that Cilarnen Volpiril has spoken truth, it is equally undeniable that it is a truth that requires immediate action not further debate. Is there anyone here who feels that the fact that the world will end at Midnight Bells is not an urgent matter?"
Again, there was silence.
"I shall take your continued silence for agreement, my Lord Mages. Therefore, I call the vote now, and not at what future time it would best please you to delay it to, my Lords Ganaret and Harith. The matter upon which we will vote, first, is whether to render all aid to Cilarnen Volpiril and Idalia Tavadon as they ask for it, against our ancient enemy. I remind you all that to vote against this is to doom the world to the rule of He Who Is. I now call the vote."
The vote, needless to say, was unanimously in favor.
"Now," Volpiril said, looking down at his son. "I presume the… three… of you came here with some plan?"
* * * * *
KELLEN heard the bronze gates of the City close with a resounding crash, and banished Idalia, Jermayan, and Cilarnen from his mind. He could not afford to think about them.
He rode among the elements of the army, speaking to the commanders, giving encouragement where it was needed, explaining his plan. They were to hold the plain before the City, keeping the Demons from reaching Armethalieh. They must give the High Mages time to re-cast the City Wards that would keep the Demons out of the City, and discover a way to rescue Lycaelon, if they could. The rest perhaps even Lycaelon's rescue was up to the others.
He'd thought there might be some uncertainty, even some resentment, at the abrupt change of command. Even though the Elven Army had never actually been in battle before this season, most of the Elven Knights on the field today had served with Redhelwar for centuries, and they and the Centaurs had been under his leadership in all of the battles they'd fought together.
But Kellen sensed no resentment among them. Only approval and acceptance. He had earned it, he realized. Everything he had done, fighting beside them, leading ever-larger commands into battle, had gone to building their trust in him. Kellen Knight-Mage.
Nithariel reported movement in the distance, and Kellen sent the unicorns on an extended sortie for detailed information. Their speed and the fact that most of the Enemy couldn't approach them closely would protect them.
He had his army positioned as well as possible now, considering the fact that their backs were to the Golden City and they could not retreat into it or into the sea.
He held Belepheriel's troop back as a reserve. They would be needed in order to relieve the cavalry wings, give them time to disengage and if they were incredibly lucky get to their remounts.
The Centaurs would simply have to stand. But Kellen did not mean them to stand for long. Hold against the first charge, then collapse and fall back, drawing the Enemy in with them to where the two cavalry wings could swing in on Them and hack them to pieces.
If the battle went the way he hoped.
And no battle ever did. He already knew that.
In the distance, he heard the silvery sound of the Unicorn Knights' war horn. Enemy sighted.
"Sound the horns," Kellen said to Dionan. One thing, at least, can go just the way it has gone for the last thousand years.
All around him, from every part of the army, the war horns sounded the call to battle.
In moments they saw the first outliers of the Demon Army: Deathwings and Coldwarg. But the Elves knew how to fight the Deathwings now. They launched flaming arrows into the sky, and for each one that found its target, a Deathwing burned.
Behind them ran an undulating wave of Coldwarg, and among them, ten times their size, enormous black creatures similar to the one Kellen had killed in the mountain pass. Shadewalkers.
They could be killed.
He felt as if he stood above the battlefield now. He could see the enemy moving through the trees. Goblins and Frost Giants. Ice Trolls. Dwerro mounted on the backs of serpentmarae. And behind them all, their leader. Kellen could not see him clearly, even with the battle-sight, only a shining blackness where he was.
But he was the one Kellen needed to kill.