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Enchanter (Book 7)

Page 59

by Terry Mancour


  But the experience of the Celestial Mother was not limited to the sea, I knew in those eternal few instants. She was celestial in her perspective, thanks to the insights of the magic of Callidore. She had knowledge of the realms beyond the shore, the land, and far beyond the sky. As I poured forth the enneagram through my soul, I witnessed things I barely had concepts for, and some that were suggestive of madness.

  Through the Celestial Mother’s many children I saw the stars as bobbing leaves on a vast sea of darkness. Worlds so large that they staggered the imagination. Beauty so sublime that it endangered your peace to regard them for long, endless gardens of flaring starfire, and malevolent powers crouched within clouds of the ashes of worlds seeking to consume all. I saw the breathtaking wonder of life from its most minute to its most profound, and saw cycles of nature so subtle they took millennia to discern.

  And all of that in a few moments. It was emotionally draining and physically exhausting, and when the factitive procedure was done I was myself imbued with a profound sense of my own insignificance.

  “She’s in there,” Taren affirmed with a grin, after Dara caught me as I collapsed. “I don’t know how you managed it, Min, but you’ve firmly attached the enneagram.”

  “Affix it,” I whispered, as Dara brought me water. Taren nodded, selected the Alaran Stone from the table, and began the spell to bind the enneagram permanently. There was no chance of it degrading, now, I thought, when he was finished. Even if I died, this part was done. Someone else, someone with more power and more sense than I, could pick it up from here. That gave me a sense of ease I had not felt in a long time.

  “It’s done,” Taren pronounced, setting the stone down. “All that’s left to do now is make the several thousand thaumaturgical connections, and we can all take turns with that. I actually thought it would be harder.”

  I tried to glare at him, but I didn’t have the strength. Instead I looked at the Snowflake for the first time in a long time, really looked at it with magesight. There was a difference, I could tell. The pattern was already changing in subtle ways, becoming more intricate as I watched.

  “We can take it from here, Master,” Gareth assured me, confidently. “In a few weeks, we’ll have the pattern bound to the matrix, and we can start feeding it power to test the connections. I’ll do a few tonight, just to ensure the binding has taken. But you can rest, Master,” he pleaded.

  “That was a wondrous achievement, Excellency,” Dranus said with undisguised admiration. “I know of no one else who could have done it. Let us now pray that it works.”

  Not the vote of confidence I needed. But I knew it would work. I had experienced only a tithe of the awareness of the Celestial Mother, and only for an instant, but such a complex being made even the gods, themselves, seem small in comparison.

  I felt blessed and humbled to have done it. Honored, even, for my role in bringing such a magnificent thing back into being. It was like a suit of clothes hanging on a rack still waiting to be filled, but it was hanging. I had done that much. I wasn’t sure I could do any more.

  My apprentices helped me to bed. Alya checked on me, anxious – enchantment took a physical toll on the enchanter, and this was by far the most difficult work I’d ever done. It made everything else seem like essays in the craft.

  The residue of my experience with the Celestial Mother haunted my dreams, showing me things about a Callidore that no longer existed, even under the seas. It was a world of incomparable order and sophistication, where thousands of different types of creatures lived and worked in a kind of harmony, all directed and guided by the benevolence of the Celestial Mother for countless ages.

  I could feel the shadow of her enneagram in my mind like a half-remembered conversation as I slept. In the days that followed I spontaneously had flashes of that perspective, but having the perspective to understand it was beyond me.

  I awoke late in the day to find Alya by my bed, looking terribly worried. She mopped my brow and brought me water and then ale, as I came out of the post-enchantment stupor. I felt the usual temulence I suffered when doing intense work, but far more pronounced. My limbs tingled and there were flashes of pain. The whole world looked tiny, temporary, ephemeral. It took me a while to shake off the feeling.

  The work apparently changed me, as well. Or at least made me more introspective for a few days, enough to concern both my wife and my mother . . . and if Alya was willing to ask Mama to come check on me, I know she was worried.

  Physically, I was fine. Master Ulin kept me informed of the process of attaching the thousands of connections, but it would be awhile before we could even consider powering it.

  In the meantime, I had duties to perform. Duties that seemed to be utterly pointless as I prepared for the Conclave that it took some prompting for me to get my case of parchment together for the business that had to be done there.

  Alya was worried enough about me to insist on Dara and Gareth accompanying me to Castabriel to watch over me, and I permitted it. By the time I transported us to the Arcane Order’s headquarters in the capital, I was beginning to sense the influence of the Celestial Mother fading. But it never completely left me.

  *

  *

  Pentandra’s former assistant, Genthil, had taken great pains to spruce up the former temple that now served as the Arcane Orders’ headquarters and mother house. Unlike Pentandra, who had purchased a pretty little estate outside of town and managed the Orders’ affairs from there, Genthil had taken residence in the Order and began running it like his personal domain.

  The sigil of the order was embroidered on banners or painted, and not only the temple but the streets nearby had been hung with them. He’d cleaned the exterior of the building with magic, removing layers of soot and dirt that had accumulated (and sparked a sudden interest in the surrounding temples to do likewise, once the Order’s spire gleamed so magnificently).

  There were now liveried warmagi guarding the main door and other entrances, mageblades behind their shoulder and wicked-looking warstaves in their hands like spears. Security was an issue, I learned, after thieves started taking an interest in the place.

  The changes weren’t merely external, either, I saw as he took me on a brief tour. VVV had reformed the internal bureaucracy and streamlined it to make it more efficient and more responsive to the needs of the members. There were actual offices for each of the sub-orders, now, with permanent attendants to see to their individual business.

  Each of the kingdom’s two magical academies had offices, and there was even an office set aside (though currently vacant, pending my oversight) for an official representative of the Spellmonger. The records archive had been completely re-organized and attended by two young magi who acted as clerks.

  There was a permanent liaison with the Royal Court Wizard’s office, and two clerks who did nothing but oversee examinations and certifications. The Mirror’s office was a well-run enterprise that had grown in popularity, and now employed fifteen magi full-time, with another six trained and ready to fill in on the busy array at any time.

  “The Mirror is actually quite profitable,” Genthil admitted to me. “Most of the other departments are running at a slight deficit or breaking even, mostly on the basis of fees and such, but we profit enough on the Mirror to more than make up for it. The nobility and the merchant houses have finally caught on to the advantages of such communications. Indeed, I have just this week entertained a proposal from the new Warlord about developing a similar system to allow elements of the fleet to remain in contact with each other without being in sight. I wanted to discuss it with you before I responded on behalf of the Order.”

  “That’s actually an intriguing idea,” I admitted. My experience with ships was limited, but even I could see the strategic and tactical advantages. While it might do nothing to help the war with Sheruel, my interest in enchantment immediately suggested that there was an opportunity here.

  “Send back a counter-proposal. Suggest that su
ch an array is not only possible, but that there may be even better means of achieving his ends, magically, that would convey further advantages over the maritime enemies of the kingdom. Of course such an enterprise would be costly to develop, but that after consulting with the Kingdom’s leading enchanters, the possibilities for such a working are impressive. Invite him to extend an offer of how much he’s willing to spend, and we’ll give him a working proposal of what we can do.”

  “Thank you, Minalan,” Genthil said, gratefully. “I have done my best to stay aloof from court politics, and I know that Count Salgo is a friend of yours, so I was uncertain of how to proceed.”

  “The Order’s business is not dependent upon our personal connections,” I said, realizing I was guiding policy here. “It can’t be. My goal has always been to create an independent, impartial and apolitical institution with the primary purpose of supporting magi and representing their interests. This could mean a lot of coin for a lot of us. Not to mention pushing the development of enchantment, which I’m currently in favor of.”

  “Apropos to that,” he said, as we came back out into the central rotunda, where the skull of the Dragon of Cambrian was on display, “your interest, and the recent symposium in Sevendor, has led to a resurgence of fascination with that ancient art.”

  “By design. I’ve prepared copies of a folio I’ve completed, a small thaumaturgic orismology standardizing the lessons in enchantment and methods of procedure for our colleagues,” I nodded. I had worked hard on that, drafting Lanse of Bune’s apprentices to make twenty copies, bound in green leather. My small academic contribution that, I hoped, would inspire enchantment across the kingdom.

  But that wasn’t what Genthil was referring to. “One of the issues facing the Conclave is to establish regulation for the creation and sale of such enchantments. There have been some . . . ethical abuses that need to be contended with.”

  I stopped. “Such as?”

  “There are some magi who are creating artifacts of dubious purpose. Spells to open locks, warwands that can be used by non-magi, enchantments designed to sway the opinions or consent of lovers or business associates . . . there is an underground market for such ill-intentioned goods. And there are magi who are not opposed to fulfilling it.”

  “That gets us into some tricky territory,” I pointed out. “I agree, we need to consider more stringent regulation. But I also feel that some of those enchantments have legitimate purposes.”

  “I concur,” VVV nodded. “A warwand in the hand of a warmage is one thing; in the hand of a jealous husband, it becomes an untraceable tool of revenge and murder. We must proceed carefully, but we are one scandal away from having the Royal Court demand us take action.”

  “We’ll have to discuss it in conclave,” I sighed. “I’ll want to poll the membership to see their opinions.”

  “As some of the membership are the ones profiting on the sales, that will prove an interesting discussion. In fact, the Baron of Greenflower has proposed, in his office as head of the scholarly order, that a body be set up to hear cases regarding such abuses on a case-by-case basis. He proposes employing a lawbrother as a consultant to establish and maintain procedure, but that a rotating body of magi, three from each order, be seated to sit in judgment in such cases. Their verdict would be advanced to the executive office with recommendations for action.”

  “That’s bloody brilliant,” I admitted, as we returned to my quarters. “That would certainly reduce the political stress, as well as give us a mechanism to deal with such things internally, without the King getting involved. Who came up with this? The Magelord of—oh.”

  “Baron Dunselen,” Genthil agreed, sympathetically. “He has used his office liberally to advance policy proposals and procedural changes that have, frankly, been as irritating as they are inspired. We have seventy-four policy issues to address, amongst the various orders. Of those, more than forty were issued by Dunselen.”

  I sighed. “He was an excellent Ducal Court Mage for years,” I admitted. “He’s known for his administrative acumen. And he did arrange a most productive seminar on enchantment on his order’s behalf. While I mistrust his motives, his talent for such things can’t be denied.”

  “I do hope you’ll maintain that opinion after contending with some of these proposals,” he said, smiling grimly.

  There were a lot of interesting discussions over the next few days, and as reluctant as I was to admit that Dunselen’s proposals had merit, as irritating as they were they each addressed a specific weakness in the administration of the orders that, once brought to my attention, I had to agree needed to be managed.

  Previous proposals and initiatives, such as the establishment of Spellwardens, had developed issues because of a lack of guidance. Disputes over jurisdiction or degree had risen. It took days of discussion and compromise before we reached a conclusion, but often it was Dunselen’s proposals that made the most sense and were the easiest to enact without undue cost or stress on the Order.

  Things moved along more quickly as some of my better people started drifting in for the Conclave. Once Terleman, Forandal, and Curmor arrived, they were able to help me cut through the tangle. And once Pentandra arrived with the Alshari contingent – including Astyral, Azar, Bendonal, Carmella and a dozen other Alshari warmagi – I felt like reinforcements had arrived.

  It helped that they came in together like a parade. Pentandra’s magnificent coach was led by Azar and Bendonal on beautiful chargers, and followed by a procession of the other magi all bearing blue balderics with the antlers-and-anchor of Alshar. The arrived at dusk, and so cast magelights to hover over their procession as they made their way through the crowded streets of Castabriel. That attracted a lot of attention, particularly from the clergy whose evening services were disrupted by the spectacle.

  “That was impressive,” I remarked to Pentandra, after the contingent dismounted in front of the Order. I was surprised how quickly liveried grooms came out and led the horses to the stable; a dedicated footman assisted Pentandra from her coach. “I’m surprised you didn’t arrange for a fanfare at your arrival.”

  “Please, Minalan! I’m an old married lady now. Such conceits are for young girls who need the attention.” She nonetheless looked flattered. “It was honestly more about national pride than personal vanity,” she confided. “Anguin wanted us to make an impressive entrance to send the message to Castal that Ashar is alive and well.”

  “Half-alive and coughing up blood, but I see his point,” I agreed. “You seem to have brought an awful lot of warmagi south.”

  “The frontiers are quiet,” she confided, as I led her inside. “Anguin’s brought four important local barons under his sway and started re-organizing the nobility over what’s left of what he controls. Vorone is relatively peaceful and enjoying some prosperity. He’s gotten one of the iron mines open again. We didn’t even need to borrow to make payroll this month. By next conclave he should actually have a real statelet to run.”

  We took that evening to enjoy the slate of receptions for the various orders, catching up on news and new areas of inquiry. In general it was a highly productive session in which a lot of useful work got done. It was also fairly relaxing, without worrying about Dunselen or Isily popping out from behind a tapestry. The Royal Family had all vacated the city for the summer, and the skeleton court that remained to handle day-to-day business was interested in our decadent parties but not in our policies.

  But I discovered a cure for the over-arching presence of the Celestial Mother in my brain: bureaucracy and committee meetings. After four days of them, I could barely feel the distant shadow of her on my mind.

  I kept quiet about her installation into the Snowflake at the conclave. The very existence of the artefact was a closely-held secret, after Isily’s infiltration, and the details of the working would have interested only a handful of enchanters, most of whom were already in Sevendor. Instead I demonstrated to each group of wizards the amazing advancements
refinements the concillibule at Sevendor had made over the winter. Some of the easier enchantments, like the agricultural and construction wands we’d created, I offered to teach anyone who wished to come to Sevendor and spend a few weeks learning. Others would require more study and preparation . . . but the invitation was the same.

  In addition to the meetings and discussion there were plenty of fetes, parties, and receptions. The rising class of graduating magi from the academies had a function I could not miss, as did the new class of journeymen who had gotten their papers. I did make five new High Magi, one in each order, and delegated the task of acclimatizing them to their new stones . . . but that still demanded a reception.

  I had innumerable meetings with people from outside of the Order who had waited weeks or even months for the opportunity to speak to me. I spent a day just dealing with them. And there was another party after that – Order of the Secret Tower, I think. They all ran together after a while.

  Then came the night of my big speech, the penultimate day of the official activities. It was a pretty standard speech, and I of course emphasized the role of enchantment in the future of our profession, but there was nothing particularly groundbreaking in it.

  When I got off the podium to polite applause, however, Pentandra was waiting for me. She didn’t bother to whisper – she used mind-to-mind communication to relay the news.

  Word just came from Alshar, she reported. Apparently someone has taken notice of our agenda. A few hours ago several large bands of gurvani, some as large as a thousand, emerged from the Penumbra and are raiding the vales of Alshar at this very moment.

  Ishi’s – damn. How is Anguin contending with it?

  Well, she admitted. He had the garrison put on alert and deployed about a third of the 3rd Commando to screen the town as cavalry. My apprentice is overseeing the situation from Vorone and reporting.

 

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