The Mage Wars

by Mercedes Lackey

  Palisar nodded grimly. “That was why we priests were so terrified of the idea of a dishonorable man loose with that kind of power. That was why we were to have burnt out that ability first, before we ever blocked away his magic.”

  “And of course, that was how he got Hadanelith in and out of at least one locked room without a trace, not even a trace of magic,” Skan put in, with a decisive nod of his own. “And of course, how he was to put Hadanelith in place to kill Shalaman, and get him away again. It begins to make sense, now.”

  “We didn’t know at the time that he could move anything larger than—say—a water jug, not for any real distance,” Palisar replied, grimacing with chagrin, as Leyuet toyed with the carving on the arm of his chair. “He didn’t openly use it often, of course. We didn’t know such an ability could be strengthened with practice.”

  Amberdrake looked at Skan. “You and Urtho talked about such things, do you remember talking about anything like this ability?”

  Skan flexed his talons and flared his nostrils as he thought. “Such things can be strengthened up to a point. I suspect he couldn’t move an object the size of a human very often or for a great distance. That would be why he needed to bring his confederates here, and why he only used it when there was no other way to get at a chosen victim. If it’s any comfort to you, it’s as rare among our people as it is among yours.”

  Palisar shrugged. “We’ll find it all out for certain in short order,” he replied, his eyes focused on some point beyond Amberdrake. “We do not lightly use those whose abilities grant them the means to see the thoughts of others, but when we do call upon them, they are dealing with those whose guilt is known, and they employ their skills without mercy or regard for the consequences.”

  Amberdrake blinked. Was the priest saying what he thought! Are they prepared to use coercive force to strip their minds away!

  “Their minds will be broken like eggs before we meet with Shalaman again,” Leyuet confirmed grimly. “And like eggs, the contents will be extracted, and the empty shells left behind. We will not slay them. We will not need to. They will, all three, live out their lives in a public place as examples of what the ultimate penalties may be. And in sifting through their minds, we may, perhaps, learn what made them what they are and prevent such a monster from appearing among us again.”

  Amberdrake shuddered at the ruthlessness in the slender Advisor’s words. He knew what a powerful Mindspeaker could do to someone just by accident, having been on the receiving end of Kechara’s first “shout,” and the edge of the second. He could only imagine the sensation of having one’s mind scraped away, layer by layer, until there was nothing left. On the whole—death might have been more merciful.

  Did they warrant mercy! Especially after the way they tortured and murdered people! I—I don’t know, and I’m glad I’m not the one making the decision. The sounds of birds singing in the gardens outside seemed unnaturally loud and cheerful.

  “That, I think is all that needs be said for now.” Palisar stood up, then, and gestured to them, a wordless invitation to leave this room and return to the main section of the Palace. Amberdrake was not loath to leave.

  I think the strength of fear is wearing off. His joints hurt, his muscles ached with the need to lie down. His mind was in a fog. Later, he would have the strength to think about all of this, but right now—

  Right now, he just wanted to fall into Winterhart’s arms and rest.

  It’s over. It’s finally over.

  The walk back was a long one, and it was accomplished mainly in silence. Both Palisar and Leyuet brooded over their own thoughts, Amberdrake was too tired at the moment to really think of anything to say, and Skan moved haltingly, in no mood to talk. It was only when they reached the door of the Emperor’s portion of the Palace that Palisar stopped them all with a lifted hand.

  Hot, brilliant white sunlight beat down on them all, but Palisar seemed immune to its effects. “I have some things I must say. I do not favor change,” he said, still frowning, “And I did not want you foreigners here among us. I was certain when the murders began that you had brought the contamination of your people here, and that you were the cause, witting or unwitting, of all our current troubles. But I am not a fool, or blind; the cause was already here, and your people merely gave birth to the tool. Sooner or later, Noyoki would have found another way to reach for his brother—a man does not recruit a notorious thief to his cause if he is planning to build temples. You tried to be rid of Hadanelith without making the punishment greater than the crimes he committed called for. It was not your fault that he fell into the hands of one who readily used him.”

  Amberdrake nodded, and waited for Palisar to continue. He’s about to make a concession. I wonder just how large a concession it will be!

  “I said that I do not favor change,” Palisar went on. “That is my role, my purpose as the Emperor’s Advisor. I do not intend to alter that. But I do not oppose change when it is obvious that it is inevitable. And I do not place blame where there is none.” He held out his hand to Amberdrake; not grudgingly, but not with warmth, either. It was very obvious that he was not ready to be the friend of the Kaled’a’in, but at least he was no longer their enemy.

  Amberdrake clasped his hand with the same reserve. Palisar nodded, with brusque satisfaction, and they all resumed the walk to the Audience Chamber, the one place where all their answers—or at least, the answers they would get for now—would be waiting.

  * * *

  Two weeks later, Skandranon and Amberdrake watched as Makke packed up the last of the myriad of gifts that the Haighlei had presented to Skan and Zhaneel. The Black Gryphon would never again lack for personal ornaments, he had enough jewelry especially crafted for gryphons to allow him to deck himself like a veritable kestra’chern!

  “They’re going to make me vain,” Skin remarked, as yet another casket of jeweled collars and ear-tuft cuffs went into the packing crate. The curtains at the window and the doors of the balcony billowed in a soft, soporific breeze.

  Amberdrake laughed, as he reclined on the only couch in this room. “No they won’t. You already are.”

  Skandranon stared at him with mock effrontery. “I am not vain,” he protested. “I am merely aware of my considerable attributes and talents. There is such a thing as false modesty, you know.”

  Amberdrake snorted with derision, and took another sip from the cool drink he held. Skan was pleased to see that the dark circles under his eyes, and the gray cast to his skin, were both gone. The first week after the Ceremony had been rather bad for his friend; all the horrors of what might have been came home to him as soon as he got a little rest. According to Winterhart, he’d had four solid nights of nightmares from which he would wake up screaming.

  “I’ll be glad to see you back at White Gryphon,” Skan continued wistfully. “It’s going to be very quiet there without you around.”

  Amberdrake gazed thoughtfully out the balcony door for a moment before replying. “I don’t want to go home for a while,” he said, very quietly. “There are things I need to think about before I get back, and this is a good place to be working while I do that.” He returned his gaze to meet Skandranon’s eyes. “Snowstar sent word that he doesn’t want to run White Gryphon.”

  “Then what I told you a few days ago still applies,” Skan told him, wondering tensely if he was going to have to return only to shoulder responsibilities that he now knew he was ill-suited to handle. “I had to give him the first chance, since he’s been handling everything for me since we arrived here, but—”

  “But that’s one of the things I need to think about.” Amberdrake turned the cup in his hands. “Being the leader of White Gryphon is not something I’d take on without thinking about it.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to,” Skan said hastily. “But you’d be good at it, Drake! Listen, I’m already a symbol, and I can’t get away from that. I’m an example, and I can’t avoid that, either. But if I’ve learned one thing, it
’s that I’m not a leader—or at least, I’m not the kind of leader that Urtho was.”

  “You’re a different kind of leader,” Amberdrake said, nodding. “When people need a focus and someone to make a quick decision, you’re good at that. I’ve seen you act in that capacity far too often for you to deny it, Skan. You have a knack for making people want to follow you, and the instinct for making the right choices.”

  “That’s all very well, but a real leader needs to be more than that.” Skan sighed as he watched Makke pack away more gifts, this time of priceless fabrics. “I admire those leaders, but I can’t emulate them.” His nares flushed hot with embarrassment. “I get bored, Drake, handling the day-to-day snarls and messes that people get into. I get bored and I lose track of things. I get bored and I go stale and I get fat. I make up crisis after crisis to solve, when there aren’t any. I turn ordinary problems into a crisis, just so I feel as if I’m doing something. You, though—you’re good at that kind of thing. I think it’s just an extension of what you were trained for.”

  “What, as a kestra’chern?” Amberdrake raised an eyebrow. “Well, you may be right. There’s a certain amount of organizational skill we have to learn—how to handle people, of course—how to delegate authority and when to take it back. Huh. I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

  “And you won’t get bored and fat.” Skan nodded his head decisively. “Judeth says I can have my old job back, so to speak. She’ll put me in charge of the gryphon wing of the Silvers. Provided I can find someone to take over my administrative jobs.”

  “Oh, really?” Amberdrake looked as if he might be suppressing a smile. “Fascinating. I wonder how you talked her into that.”

  Privately, Skandranon wondered, too. Judeth had been entirely too accommodating.

  Then again—leading a gryphon wing took some special talents, and they were talents a mere human wasn’t likely to have.

  Sometimes getting them to work together feels like herding grasshoppers. It’s hard to get them to understand that teamwork is necessary off the battlefield.

  “We aren’t the only people emigrating out of the battle zone, just the first. She thinks that we’re going to need to help the Haighlei deal with more refugees, and they’re as likely to be from Ma’ar’s army as ours,” he said by way of reply. “She wants to have the wing set up and ready to move the first time there’s trouble. We’re a lot more mobile than you two-leggers, we’ll make a good strike and run force.”

  I just hope that all of those damned makaar died with their master.

  “And the more cooperative we show ourselves, the easier it will be to get the diehards like Palisar to fully accept us,” Amberdrake acknowledged. “Well, she’s right, and you’re right, and I have the feeling that we aren’t out of the woods yet.” His expression turned thoughtful. “You know, the mage-storms are settling down to squalls and dying out altogether, and one of these days magic will go back to being what it used to be. Ma’ar and Urtho weren’t the only powerful Adepts up there, just the two most powerful. And right now, there probably aren’t too many places that are pleasant to live in the North.”

  Skandranon thought about that for a moment, and he didn’t much like the taste of it. Amberdrake was right; there had been plenty of mages up there, and not all of them died or were burned out in that last conflagration. Most mages had either joined forces with Urtho or with Ma’ar; there was no point in worrying too much about those who had been with Urtho, but those who had been with Ma’ar couldn’t all have been eliminated.

  And there had been a few mages, Adepts all, who had opted to sit out the conflict between Urtho and Ma’ar—to wait and watch from within hiding, and see precisely who won before making moves of their own. And where were they?

  No one knew. No one would know, unless they came out of hiding. When a wizard chooses to go into hiding, there isn’t much that can pry him out until he’s good and ready to come out.

  But no other mage had ever had anything like the gryphons. They had proved to be Ma’ar’s downfall.

  We could surprise someone else, too.

  Well, that didn’t matter at this very moment. What did matter was that there were two tasks facing the people of White Gryphon that needed to be finished. They needed to complete their city and learn how to run it—and they needed to learn how to live in this new situation and society.

  I can take care of contingency battle plans for dealing with possible enemies, if Drake can take over the city. Skan chuckled to himself. The old team, just like before. With Gesten putting us both in our place.

  “Well, right now, what if we agree to wait until I have the permanent delegation here set up and running smoothly?” Amberdrake asked. “If I manage that—well, perhaps my skills might be up to administering a city.”

  “I’ll agree to that!” Skan said readily.

  People are already deferring to him. Judeth does, and so do the rest of the Silvers. The Haighlei are—I think they’re rather in awe of the way he could play so many roles, too.

  “Besides, I need to be here to help Silver Veil interview her replacement,” Amberdrake continued, but this time with an amused sparkle in his eye. “We both agreed that, on the whole, I am not particularly suited to the position since Leyuet would never be able to unburden himself to someone he thinks of as being god-touched, but she’s willing to talk to anyone from White Gryphon that I send for. I have a candidate or two. Jessamine, for one. She’s competent, and she would be a complete change of pace from Silver Veil—which would make it impossible for anyone to ever compare the two.”

  Skan sighed with relief when he realized that Amberdrake was not even thinking about taking the job himself. That had been a private worry of his; that Amberdrake would decide to stay here as Silver Veil’s successor, with Winterhart in charge of the actual ambassadorial delegation. In many ways, it would be a good positioning of resources. Winterhart was admirably suited to such a task—and if Amberdrake was in the position of Imperial Kestra’chern, his people would be very well appraised of whatever situation currently prevailed in Shalaman’s land.

  But I want him home, Skan thought stubbornly. We’re a good team, and I need him back home where he belongs.

  Besides, he needs to take over from Lionwind, as well as taking over the city. The Kaled’a’in are more than they were before, and Lionwind is still acting as if they were just one of the Clans, with no outsiders among them to change things. I think he realizes that, too.

  In fact—Hmm. There were some stirrings in that direction, before we left. It seemed to me that Lionwind was spending an awful lot of time with the shaman. Maybe he’s thinking that he ought to move on to something else, too.

  Change or stagnate. Keep moving or die. That always seemed to be the choices facing Urtho’s folk.

  But if we change, we grow. If Drake takes all this leader business on, it will make him grow. He’s been stagnating, too.

  This was going to wake him up, and that would be good, not only for him, but for Winterhart. She’ll be his partner, just like always—Now that’s interesting. She really wasn’t suited—or trained—to be his partner when all he was doing was speaking for the kestra’chern. But as the full administrator! Oh, they’ll handle that job together like two trained horses in harness!

  “Winterhart would probably enjoy sharing the administrative things out with me,” Amberdrake mused aloud, in an unconscious echo of Skandranon’s thoughts. “She’d been wasting her talents, really, until we got here. She was trained to rule, not only a household, but a full estate with a substantial number of retainers. It would be a shame to let that kind of training and skill go to waste.”

  “You’re going to do it, then.” Skan could hardly conceal his glee.

  Amberdrake gave him a wry smile. “Sounds as though I’ve talked myself into it, haven’t I? Well—yes. We will do it. Provided we don’t make total fools of ourselves, setting things up here.”

  “Good!” Skan settled back to watch Mak
ke pack with a much lighter heart. Everything was settled—and exactly as he wanted!

  And now he would be able to get back to doing what he did best—being the Black Gryphon, and all that entailed!

  I won’t be stagnating, either. We’ll have to figure out how to work with the Haighlei forces; we have no idea what may be coming down out of the north. We gryphons really should put some thought into organizing ourselves in some way—

  He gryphon-grinned at Amberdrake, and the kestra’chern’s wry smile softened into a real one.

  And Skandranon Rashkae sat back on his haunches and pulled himself straight up in a deliberately statuesque pose against the sunlit sky, content with himself and the world. Life was good.

  THE SILVER GRYPHON

  BOOK THREE

  OF THE MAGE WARS

  Dedicated to ‘Dusty’ Rhoades, Mike Hackett, Scott Rodgers, and all

  the rest of those who know the Infobahn is a tool and not a religion.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Freedom!

  Tadrith Skandrakae extended his broad gray wings, stretching out his muscles to their fullest extent to take best advantage of the warm wind beneath him. Freedom at last! I thought I’d never get away from that Section meeting. He banked just slightly to his left, slipping sideways for the best line. I know it wasn’t my good looks or charm that were putting me under that old crow’s watch! I swear, Aubri must get a special pleasure out of keeping people around him who desperately want to he somewhere else. He half-closed his eyes against the glare of the sun on the water beneath him. He was conscious of two pressures, one tangible and one fanciful; the warm imagined push of the sun on his back, and the strong uplift of the thermal beneath him. Then again, maybe there were three pressures, or four; the warm air below, the hot sun above, and the twin desires to be away from the boredom of yet another Section meeting and the wish to be headed for something exciting.