Kellanved's Reach

‘Dominion!’ their host answered, an edge to his voice. ‘You and I! We both seek power and dominion. With you as my worldly representative and I the well-spring of your power – we would be unstoppable!’

Kellanved paced aside to study a nearby standing iron brazier. He poked his walking stick at the coals. ‘I appear to be doing just fine,’ he mused.

The figure chuckled. ‘Do not try to fool either of us. You think yourself accomplished. But you also know there are powers out there that could snuff you like a candle. I could shield you from them.’

‘Thank you, but I do not think I need shielding.’

Dancer caught the mage’s eye and glanced to the entrance.

The figure shambled closer, raised a knotted rag-wrapped fist. ‘You little upstart! You have no idea what you meddle with. Like a child you foolishly grab at flames – and you will be burned.’

‘How do you propose—’ Kellanved began, and turned quickly. As he did so his walking stick struck the brazier, which fell, its coals scattering against the tent in a rain of embers. ‘Oh dear,’ he murmured.

‘You fool!’ their host snarled. ‘What have you done?’

The sun-dried canvas burst afire.

‘Apologies.’ Kellanved thrust a handful of nearby furs on to it, which themselves immediately roared into flame.

The bent rag-wrapped figure waved his arms in a panic, backing away. ‘You idiot! You utter complete imbecile!’ He pointed at Kellanved. ‘I will cast you so far afield for this you shall never be seen again!’

As the fire spread Dancer took the mage’s arm and yanked him away. He pushed through the thickening smoke, dragging Kellanved after him.

A wail sounded, and glancing back Dancer thought he saw a squat, flaming figure flailing amid the conflagration.

They emerged into the sunlight and Dancer kept going, a roaring bonfire growing behind them. Coughing, wiping his eyes, he finally relinquished his grip on Kellanved and leaned, hands on knees, gasping for breath.

The wrinkled mage turned to the rising black smoke. ‘Oh dear. That didn’t go so well.’

A circle of coursing and roiling energies rose about them like a gyre and Kellanved let out a hissed breath. ‘Ah … this might be … difficult …’

Dancer turned on him. ‘Difficult? What do you mean? Like really difficult?’

Kellanved grimaced. ‘Yes. Like really—’

Then the wall of moiling greyness closed upon them and Dancer felt himself torn sideways once more, only this time with such cruel savageness that he blacked out immediately.

*   *   *

More out of boredom than anything else, Sister of Cold Nights agreed to help Tayschrenn with his project of creating devices for the projection of communication. She knew that she should trust K’rul’s assurances that this was the right place and the right time to further her own long-term plans, but personally she did not see it and was frankly rather disheartened.

Oh, certainly the woman Surly was an excellent administrator and leader, and she saw great potential in her, while the Dal Hon mage had forged remarkable mastery of Meanas, and his … arrangement … with the ancient hounds showed true cunning. Still, her goals ran far deeper than the establishment of mere mundane telluric rule.

She wondered whether there really was anything here for her at all.

As for this Kartoolian mage; certainly he was powerful, and his grasp of Warren fundamentals was impressive. Still, he was so young, and had so much to learn. His initial instinct of using certain crystals as foci was, she felt, correct; however, she worried that the mage was not giving sufficient attention to the considerable forces involved in such channelling.

They were in his quarters in Mock’s Hold, examining the remnants of the Kartoolian’s latest efforts. She raised one fragment of the shattered gemstone to her eye, then glanced at the frustrated mage. ‘Why so small?’ she asked.

‘To fit in the hilts of daggers.’ He rubbed his face, clearly exhausted. ‘Or something of that sort. Portable, concealable, unobtrusive.’

‘I see. Well, I am sorry, but you are going to have to go with something larger. A globe. At least fist-sized, I should think. Otherwise the forces are too concentrated.’

The mage tapped his fingers to his lips. ‘It would be very difficult to procure such items.’

‘The crystals need not be precious. Quartz should suffice.’

He eyed her, raising a brow. ‘You appear very well versed in such research.’

She waved negligently. ‘Oh, over the years one—’

She halted, blinking, and pushed herself from the table so hard books tumbled to the floor.

‘Are you all right?’ Tayschrenn asked, though she hardly heard him over the roaring in her ears.

Waves of power had just washed over her; it was as if an enormous bell had just been struck far off beneath the earth and she felt, more than heard, the reverberations.

And they spoke of one source and one source alone, though she could not believe it.

‘Tellann?’

‘What was that?’ Tayschrenn asked. ‘Tell …’

She hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud. Tellann! Impossible!

‘Are you—’