by Kim Wedlock
How long had this taken? Two weeks? It was nothing. Twenty years had passed before the teleportation spells had been established. Two weeks were a drop in a bucket, and he was under no illusions that urgency and his own higher blood were behind it.
And the timing - what luck! Compensation for fewer pairs of eyes; the phaeacians' ejection wouldn't weaken the Arana at all. He needed only to set up these spells. It would take time, and no one else was capable of seeing to it in his stead, but he could do it. He could. He had. Doing it again would be nothing. He needed only gather vessels to focus his magic upon, something for the spell to centre around. Something that could be left unnoticed in the centre of a city and provide him a wide view. It would be far quicker than establishing them in person in every location.
And to think he'd argued with Erran when he'd suggested using the chandelier as a foundation, protesting on the forethought that it was restrictive, that, if he succeeded, he wouldn't be able to see closely enough to make heads or tails of what was going on in a space even only double the size of this room. But Erran in turn had carefully reasoned that the spell needed to be tied to something if the point wasn't to wander or shift, and that, once the spell was complete, it could be actively adjusted like a telescope to pan or magnify. Which, with the instructed rotation of his fingers, it did, and smoothly.
His heart fluttered again.
Yes. Vessels. And mirrors. And then the Arana would gain greater range than if the phaeacians had remained. No one would sneak past them again. No city would fall to foreign invaders; no plot of mages would go unnoticed; no individual arrival would be missed.
Salus's scheming smile widened. The Arana would be in control once again.
Taliel sighed deeply. The evening was ageing. The sunlight, welcome after so may days of cloud, was fading to rose gold and just managed to flood in through the window before the forest could swallow the sun. Birds still sang outside, perched openly on the ends of the brightest branches while a warm breeze tousled the leaves, chirping merrily into the final stretches of the day. The sight, the warmth, the sounds, all attempted to drag her beneath a blanket of sluggishness. Had she been anywhere else, she may have let it. But here, she needed to pay attention.
And Salus made it impossible, anyway.
She'd pressured him to get away from his office and clear his head, but even in his private house, he hadn't left his work behind. He was energised, racing around the sitting room, unable to sit down; any time his rear touched a seat he leapt right back out of it with another burst of enthusiasm. She was exhausted just watching him.
At last, Taliel rose from her seat by the window, grasped him by the arms and finally forced him to a stop.
"I can do it," he said into her face, "I did it! And I can do it again!"
"Calm down, Salus. You're going to wear yourself out. Sit."
"I can move Turunda, too!" He didn't notice her stifle a sigh, nor that she was trying to steer him towards a chair. "Absolutely I can! Liogan has told--no, she has shown me how to wield this magic! Better than Erran ever has!" But then he faltered, his expression abruptly slipping into confusion. Taliel took the opportunity to finally force him down. "Signs...but I still used signs..."
"And?"
"I used signs, not...instinct..."
"So?" She sat down beside him, watching his growing bewilderment. "Then you still need Erran's help. He's extremely capable, you know this - you'd not have chosen him otherwise."
"But why didn't she tell me how to..." He shook his head with a horrified realisation. "She expects me to do this with signs?! She thinks I'm incapable of anything more - where would I possibly learn them?!"
"Erran will teach you."
"And how would he know how to do it?!" He rose, this time in fury, but Taliel restrained him with a smile and a touch.
"As I understand it," she continued softly, pulling him back down, "signs are like letters, and just twenty six letters can form uncountable words. You need only learn them and put them in the right order. It's the same with signs, isn't it? How many different spells will the same one sign be present in? The sign for fire, for inst--"
"There is no sign for fire, it's actually a combination of hea--"
"Which only proves my point all the more. Patience, Salus. Learn the signs. It may take some time, but it will all be worth it, won't it?"
"...It will. You're right... Ugh, it's just so...it's..."
"It's important, I know. But you'll manage. For now, however, I suggest you keep your focus on surveillance."
"Yes...yes, of course. That's equally important. More so, in fact. There are threats all around us...and to think we will finally be back on top of it!" Again he rose in excitement, too quickly for her to catch him, and resumed his fervent wandering. She watched him closely, and he soon threw back a grin, eyes sparkling. She forced a smile into her eyes. An easy matter. "Then perhaps you might finally get some rest and I can stop worrying about you."
His smile softened. "I hope you never stop worrying about me. I mean...uh, well I don't want you to worry, you don't need to, I just mean--"
"I understand, Salus."
He laughed self-deprecatingly. He returned voluntarily, pulling her into an embrace, and she reciprocated, smiling as she felt him bury his chin affectionately against her. But, as it turned out, he was just shaking his head in awe. "I can do this, Taliel. I can! It's so simple!"
She sighed as he rose and wandered off again.
"I just have to stress the chasms, and that's easy - all it takes is magic! Liogan said..."
And he proceeded to tell her. And she listened. To all his assumptions, his logic, his excitement, his tangents that all looped back around to the beginnings in one seamless, obsessive circle. And she smiled, nodding, asking questions - simple questions, enough to keep him going and steer him towards the most paramount details, things she could pass on, that others could make use of.
But deep beneath her fond, supportive smile and bright, interested eyes, dread thrashed and boiled. Yes. Perhaps he could do it. If the elf maintained contact. Which she surely would. She believed he could succeed - she wouldn't have bothered interfering in his tutelage if she didn't. But this woman came and went as she pleased; no force could stop her, just as no force could deter Salus from following her pretty words and promises. Nothing could block her influence; nothing could keep her out.
She had his full attention.
But...so did she.
Taliel rose and caught him as he paced up and down the room in frenetic thought. "Salus. You have a lot on your mind. Make things easier on yourself and focus on the surveillance. Threats are all around us, remember?"
"Yes...yes, of course. Ah, you're right. I'm sorry, I'm just excited. But I have to deal with the agitators before Turunda can be moved or I'll only bring them with us. The ruins can wait. Koraaz will be stopped before he can reach them all. They're not going anywhere."
She looked at him. With his zeal suddenly restrained, he seemed oddly focused and considered. Reasonable. "It is...good to see you so confident."
"How can I not be?" He smiled easily. It was disconcerting. "I have magic, I have Liogan, and I have you." He turned himself towards her, took her hands in his, and peered into her copper-ringed eyes. "Thank you for keeping my feet on the ground, Taliel. If not for you, I hate to think what mistakes I might make."
"That's my job. I support you fully. You can rely on me." She embraced him then, if only so she didn't have to worry about the discomfort showing in her eyes. It took far too long to shove aside. "So, I was thinking," she continued tactfully as they parted, "you said you'll need the spell's focuses set up. You can't possibly do it all yourself, so--"
"No, but I don't have to if it's cast over an object, others can--"
"So I would be honoured if you allowed me to place the first."
He hesitated. She saw his eyes dull, and for a moment a jolt of panic at the thought of suspicion shuddered through her. She hid it perfectly
, of course, and settled when he smiled wistfully.
"I've missed you, Taliel."
"I wouldn't be gone for long."
"No, but..." His expression brightened, a notion flashing through his eyes. "I have a better idea. I'll place the first - it's only right - but I want you come with me. We can do it together, just the two of us! I want you to be a part of this."
She said nothing as he stared at her, vivid, pressing, squeezing her hands in his enthusiasm. She could only smile and kiss him.
None of her irritation passed through, but it was more than simply present beneath the surface. She desperately needed the opportunity to get away and deliver this information, but instead she had trapped herself with him. She couldn't deviate and see to it on her way, and neither could she do so while he was gone and Vari was manning the translocators. But Rathen needed to know, and needed to know soon. Malson had already told her to report straight to them if she discovered anything severe enough, and his success under Liogan's meddling certainly fell under 'severe'.
"I would love to," she managed at last, controlling her eyes as they parted.
He smiled happily. "Good. In the next few days, then. I need to gather more mirrors."
The sun dropped behind the trees. Dusk fell in through the windows.
Chapter 22
Three days later, the air hung like lead beneath the thick cloud of tension.
Breath stifled, bodies rigid, hearts subdued by force, while a presence of danger stood boldly among them, grinning a charnel threat. But while the portian and phidipan stared hard at the wall, Salus paced, his eyes wild, dead to the atmosphere beyond his own skin.
Malson's pressures rang in his head. They echoed with every footstep. 'The military needs that intel!' 'This is your job, Keliceran!' 'You have all the resources you could need!' 'All your assurances, and what do you have to show for them?!'
A small voice in the recesses of his mind wondered if perhaps he had acted rashly. But he couldn't afford to second-guess himself. Decisions had been made, action taken, and now all he could do was hope for the best. But his phidipans were capable. They would make the best of the situation.
So why were his intestines tangled in knots?
Footsteps approached outside. Salus stopped and stared towards the door. The footsteps passed and faded. He resumed his pacing.
Whatever their plan, one thing had been discerned: Doana's defences were not in place. So he had issued the order to attack a single camp head-on, to catch them off-guard and force them to show their hand, reveal a hint of their intentions. Just as Malson had wanted. He had stepped it up.
But he had spared only three for the task. A mage to cast the illusion of a company of soldiers, a phidipan to observe the response, and another to venture in and collect information from the heart of the camp in the chaos.
And now...now he waited.
Clouds shifted, casting changing depths of shadow through the window. Rain pattered against the glass. Time blurred beneath the soft, monotonous drone. The air inside shook with the continuous impact. The breath in their lungs seemed to join it.
Finally, a knock came at the door, unannounced this time by any footsteps.
Salus lunged for the handle.
The man on the other side barely flinched when the door was snatched open, and he stepped inside at the keliceran's silent order and took his place before the desk. Salus was immediately in front of him. Staring respectfully over his shoulder, he didn't see the fever in his superior's eyes. Nor the danger. But he was duly informed moments later.
Salus's temper snapped like a fine, dry twig. The phidipan recoiled as the tension shattered - the others had already braced themselves - and collected himself as best he could while the keliceran raged around him. The teapot narrowly missed his head.
"Get out!"
He didn't need to be told twice.
Neither Teagan nor Taliel watched the phidipan leave, nor Salus as he steadied himself over the desk, shoulders heaving, skin blanching white. Now, among the rain and growling puffs, the shaking air hummed.
"They figured it out too quickly," he spat after another torturous silence. "And we've lost a phidipan and a mage." Another deathly growl rumbled free. "They figured it out too quickly for any detail to be reliable. We've lost agents and gleaned nothing!"
"No," Teagan began calmly, but as Salus snapped around, he had to force himself to steady. He heard Taliel gasp slightly from beside him. "With respect, we've now learned that this camp was false. They had no defences - in place or in planning."
"Yes, because this camp was false. We can't assume the others are the same. So, in essence, we've lost agents, and gleaned nothing!"
"They have learned nothing from us, either."
"Bah!" He spun away again and fixed keenly back upon the map, as though he thought he could see the invaders within the grain of the parchment if he stared hard enough. "And we can't risk using the same tactics on another camp. Their communications can be intercepted, but they don't seem to be using any! Every camp is isolated, even supply runs haven't been witnessed for weeks! Something else is going on. Without a shadow of a sodding doubt, something else is going on...and we still have no idea what..."
He exploded again, clearing his desk in a single sweep. He had no patience for that small, wretched voice in the back of his mind, nor for its suggestions of his own impending reprimands.
He was not looking forward to Malson's next intrusion.
The thought ripped a snarl from his lips. That old fool. This was his doing. He blustered in with unending demands and no thought for logistics. While trying to work around the destruction of the land, the constant evacuations and the impact Ivaea and Kasire's petty squabbles were having on external observations, he expected him to deal with Doana, ward away the tribes, accompany those evacuations - he even had a personal request to observe the Order! Just how many others were unsanctioned? And not two hours ago had come in and pressed him to stop the mage hunters on top of it all! He'd agreed, just to shut him up, but he was firm on his original stance: the White Hammer would handle it. He had no room for anything else on his plate.
For days he'd felt the pressures sweltering up inside him, provoking sweats, nausea, sleeplessness; he was hungry but too tense to stomach anything, and distracted from the very work that haunted him. He was absent even in Taliel's company. A fact which sickened him all the more every time he realised it, always too late to correct.
A weight dropped in his chest as that very fact struck him again. His head pulled around and eyes fell immediately onto her. She didn't look back at him, but her eyes were a fraction wider than usual. His shoulders dropped with a stab of regret, which he chased away with a deep, composing breath.
"All right." He turned towards them, closed his eyes and tightly folded his arms, reining in his cascading thoughts, the pyretic thump of his heart, and let a bearing of rationality settle in their place. "By attacking Doana out of the blue and with only three individuals, we've cast an uncertainty into their plans. Even though two operatives were killed, it was still too well-executed for them to assume it was a result of restlessness. And as none of the three were marked by the military, there is now a new element they have to consider. No doubt they will assume that we were probing them, testing their reactions, and while they have long been aware of the Arana's existence, they still fell for this trick. Which means that, at the very least, they don't expect the Arana to attack them outright. We've set them off-balance, which means that, whatever their plans, they'll have to re-evaluate them in order to factor us in. And they don't know how we will respond."
"They will expect our actions to be unconventional," Teagan offered, "different from the military. They won't paint us with the same brush."
"Of course not, but they don't know how far we will go. All they've done so far is kill our scouts and residential spies. They've not encountered anything more than observers. Even those who ventured into their camps were never caught. Whic
h means that this is the first real action they've witnessed on our part. They have nothing at all to compare it to." He breathed a concluding sigh. "We are back on top. This hasn't been a totally wasted effort."
"Malson won't be pleased."
His lip twitched. "When is he ever?"
The clouds thinned outside, casting the office into a paler shade of grey. Salus made a brief, checking glance out of the window. It was mid-afternoon, and the rain had subsided. The city would be at its busiest.
His attention slipped onto Taliel. Her eyes had returned to their usual alertness, but he still found himself hesitating behind the regret that tightened his throat.
But his frustration had been justified, surely she understood that. Perhaps she felt it, too, but hid it better than he had.
'After all that suppression, when it finally snapped, you had no idea how to deal with the flood of spirit and passion that came with it, did you?'
He squashed the foul voice out of his head.
It wouldn't do to linger either way. He straightened and returned to Teagan with his counter-actions, intent on dismissing him as soon as possible and moving on to something measurably more pleasant, but he was swiftly interrupted by another knock at the door. As was so often the case, all the news seemed to arrive at once.
But this report had set Salus's eyes gleaming.
And Taliel's under even steadier control.
"Red Heath?" He demanded ardently. "You're sure?"
"Long black hair, white skin, grim visage, travelling with a child," the phidipan confirmed.
"A hunter found them - who?"
"Beryn."
He nodded eagerly, eyes wide, thoughts crashing through them like an avalanche. "The refugee camp outside - what's the situation?"
"Stable."
"Few would come and go so close to Korovor," Teagan supplied while he continued to nod, "and there are only two mages stationed within eighteen miles of Red Heath. The village and the camp are fenced in by the forest, but they're safe."
