“Nakor’s death…” She stopped and said, “He was saddened by it, to be expected, but not…” Again she paused, as if thinking of exactly how she wanted to say what was on her mind. “It’s more than just a wistful regret. Your father is as complex a man as I’ve known. He sees things, considers options, and makes choices before most men even understand what it is they are seeing.
“His mind works in ways that I can’t begin to fathom. Oh, some of the magic—” she glanced at Magnus, “—discipline I recognize, but beyond that…”
She caught her own breath, realizing she was no closer to sharing her concerns than she had been minutes before. It was Caleb who said, “He’s waiting for the other boot.”
Magnus said, “What?”
“The old expression, waiting for the other boot to drop.” Still the older brother didn’t seem to understand. “Comes from wearing sandals, I guess,” said Caleb with a smile. “You’re in an inn and someone on the floor above removes a boot before going to bed. You hear the first hit the floor. So you wait until you hear the second before your mind returns to what it was on before.”
Magnus nodded. “He does appear distracted from time to time.”
“Preoccupied,” said his mother. “He just hides it well, from everyone but me.”
“Father is anticipating something?” Magnus said rhetorically. He glanced out the window at the warm afternoon sun and said, “Well, as you said, he masks it well.”
Caleb shrugged. “Why don’t you ask him what he expects?”
“You think I haven’t?” She stood up and crossed to stand before her younger son. Looking into his eyes, she said, “He is adroit at not telling me what he doesn’t want me to know.” She smiled ruefully. “I just tell him to mind his own affairs and leave me alone. He’s more diplomatic than that.” With an aggrieved sound, she added, “I hate it when he does that!”
Both sons laughed. Their parents loved one another deeply, as they did their sons, but both Magnus and Caleb knew their parents’ marriage was occasionally tense. Their mother was a woman of strong will and older than her husband—though both conceded that when both partners were over a century in age, the difference was mostly academic. Still, they both knew something was bothering their father.
Pug had assumed a huge amount of responsibility over the years since he returned to Midkemia from his life on the now destroyed world of Kelewan. First he had ended the war between the Tsurani and the Kingdom of the Isles, then he had founded the colony of magicians called Stardock.
Magnus said, “And he has been visiting Stardock more often than usual.”
When Stardock had become rife with politics and intrigue, he had quietly started his school here on Sorcerer’s Island. The outside world considered the island a place to avoid, and ships from all nations gave it a wide berth; it was an attitude Pug encouraged with deftly planted rumors and occasionally a display of frightening images should a ship venture too closely.
The truth was that Pug was close to achieving his dream, creating the place Stardock was originally intended to be, an academy where magicians could come study and practice their arts, exchange information, and leave a wealth of knowledge to be passed on to future generations of magic-users. The mandate he hoped to leave as his personal legacy, Pug was building a haven for those who wished to be free from petty politics, the bigotry of superstition, and where those who learned were inculcated with the desire to serve and benefit their people rather than use their great arts for personal aggrandizement, gain, or dominion over others.
Miranda said, “I count that as another sign he’s worried. He rarely bothers to check up over there, unless he’s summoned. He’s rarely pleased with the current political situation there.”
“He had some good reasons,” said Caleb. “There was that envoy from the Kingdom who had some nonsense to offer—what was it?”
“As soon as Father learned it involved once again pledging fealty to the Kingdom, he rejected it out of hand,” reminded Magnus.
Miranda nodded. “He wouldn’t hear the man out. He never told me, but last time I was at Stardock, one of the students took evil delight in telling me the envoy from the Kingdom suddenly found himself in the lake, about a hundred yards off the docks at Landreth.”
Caleb laughed. “I assume the poor man could swim, else we’d be at war with the Kingdom. Drowning envoys doesn’t sit well with kings.”
Magnus said, “They would never openly start a war with Stardock. They still fear magic too much, and with that many spellcasters…” He left the thought unfinished. While a single magic-user could be quickly overcome by intent soldiers, a company of such, determined to ignore casualties, could eventually overwhelm the magician. But hundreds of magicians?
Miranda said, “The King’s men are often stupid, but they are rarely suicidal.”
Pug had learned bitter lessons from the Academy. He had bequeathed daily control of Stardock to those who lived there, at first angering the Kingdom of the Isles, which had considered the island in the middle of the Great Star Lake as one of their minor holdings, though they elevated it to the status of duchy to serve their own political ends.
To the south, the Empire of Great Kesh had sought to ensure their own interests were served by quickly persuading many young practitioners of magic to seek refuge at Stardock, while retaining their loyalty to the Empire. Two brothers, Watoom and Korsh—who, Pug was now certain, long after their deaths, had been Imperial agents—had almost succeeded in convincing the majority of students to the rightness of Kesh’s claims. Only Nakor’s time at the Academy, where he established a third faction, mirthfully called the Blue Riders—to honor a gift of a beautiful horse and blue cloak from the Empress herself—kept a precarious balance and prevented the brothers from success.
Pug had occasionally made a visit to the Academy, with two aims in mind: first, he wished everyone there to remember he still held title to the island, even though he had renounced his claim to Kingdom nobility. Second, he wished to maintain contact with a handful of agents of the Conclave, to keep an eye on whatever nonsense the current ruling triumvirate—the leaders of the three factions—were up to.
The “Hands of Korsh” were the most conservative, but they were as opposed to becoming a province of the Empire as they were of the Kingdom. But they perceived all who were not magic-users, and those who were but not within their faction, as possible enemies. “The Wand of Watoom” was more moderate in their policies toward outsiders, but decidedly pro-Keshian in their worldview.
The Blue Riders continued to delight Pug, for their leadership always seemed to somehow reflect Nakor’s slightly mad and always manic views on magic. Many of them had adopted his notion that there really wasn’t magic, but some mystical “stuff,” as the little gambler had called it, that could be manipulated by anyone once they managed to achieve a certain level of familiarity with it.
They were almost entirely responsible for seeking out new students, while the more conservative factions waited until someone arrived at Stardock who met their more rigid standards of acceptance. Pug was grateful for that closed-mindedness, for it allowed the Blue Riders more opportunity to keep the island’s population in balance.
Caleb said, “If Father’s spending more time there, something is up, no doubt. Either he’s alerting our agents to be on the watch for something, or they’ve already told him something’s afoot.”
Magnus said, “No, if it was that, by now he would have said something to one or all of us.” He glanced out the window, as the breeze rustled the leaves of the old trees sheltering that side of the building from the afternoon heat during the summer. “No, it’s something else.”
The mother and two sons were silent as they pondered what could be disturbing Pug so deeply that despite his attempts to disguise his distress, they all could see it. Miranda finally stood and said, “Well, one thing about your father: when he judges it time to share his worries, you can be certain he will be totally forthright, and wh
at he’s worried about will be a very big problem.”
She left the room and the brothers exchanged nods, for they knew she was understating the case. Whatever worried their father was likely to be more approaching disaster than a problem.
Pug dismissed his class and gathered up a few items he had employed to demonstrate the lessons of the day. He knew his family had been observing for a while, and was nearly certain as to the reason. He had attempted to conceal some grave concerns from them, but obviously failed. Still, he was reluctant to assume things worse than he knew them to be, and today was the day he would finally come to grips with the cause of his worries: a summons from the Oracle of Aal.
More than that, it had been the way in which it had arrived: one moment Pug had been alone in his study, writing notes late into the night, and the next a man in a white robe had been at his elbow. As soon as he saw the man, he recognized him for what he was: one of the consorts or companions to the Oracle. Conventional human concepts were only an approximation. Gender with the Aal was a function of legacy; the bodies those spirits inhabited were human, so their physical makeup was unchanged, yet the driving mind within was alien. Pug had been apprehensive at first, for the Oracle herself had taken the dying body of a great dragon, her golden scales fused with a riot of gemstones by furious magic unleashed in the heat of battle, as the most dangerous of creatures, a Dreadlord, had been confronted by the dragon and Tomas, the legatee of the power of the Valheru.
That battle had been over a century prior, yet for Pug it might as well have been the day before; he could still conjure up vivid memories of the chaos that surrounded him, Macros the Black, and two Tsurani magicians who had joined him in trying to stem the return of the assembled host of the Valheru, the Dragon Lords, to Midkemia.
That battle under the now deserted city of Sethanon had been but the first of many encounters Pug had with agents of the Nameless, Nalar, God of Evil and the agency behind the Chaos Wars and the subsequent battles being waged by Pug and his allies against the forces of evil.
Pug paused to gather his thoughts. The strangest thing about the summons wasn’t its being delivered personally by a minion of the Oracle; it was that he wasn’t asked to come at once but at a future date, nearly a month away. And now that date was upon him.
Pug considered letting Miranda know what was occurring, but for some reason felt it best to hear out the Oracle first, then deal with his wife’s moods. She would almost certainly wish to come with him, yet her name, nor that of Magnus, had been mentioned.
Besides, his encounters with the Oracle tended to be short, the longest lasting barely a half-hour. He would be back before the evening meal.
For ten years he had been practicing the art of transporting himself without the use of the Tsurani orbs. Those were becoming rarer as the years passed since the destruction of Kelewan. A few artificers from Kelewan had immigrated to LaMut, but most who survived the destruction of their home planet were now living on New Kelewan, as they had come to name their refuge.
Besides, though he would never admit it, Pug’s vanity hated the fact his wife was effortlessly able to transport herself at will to places she barely knew, while he had to muster all his concentration.
Still, the chamber of the Oracle was unique and he had been there many times over the years. It should prove little difficulty to move there now. And now was the time.
He closed his eyes, willed himself to the chamber, and, as he appeared, heard the voice of the Oracle within his mind.
Welcome, Sorcerer. Your timing is perfect.
As Pug turned to regard the majesty that was the gem-encrusted form of the great golden dragon, a screech loud enough to cause her companions to cover their ears tore through the room.
Halfway between Pug and the Oracle something appeared, first a shadowy form, then it rapidly resolved itself into a figure. A demon rearing up at least twenty feet in height stood motionless for an instant, disoriented by the magic that had brought it to this place. Yet that muddle lasted but a moment. It quickly surveyed the room, judging the little figures around it scant risk, then turned its attention to the figure of the Oracle.
With a bellow that echoed in the vast chamber, the demon launched itself at the Oracle.
CHAPTER 7
PROPHESY
Pug unleashed a spell.
As the demon took a step toward the dragon form of the Oracle, a searing hot band of energy lashed out, wrapping itself around the demon’s form like a lasso. Where it touched skin, evil-smelling black smoke erupted.
The creature towered over everyone in the cavern, save the Oracle herself. He had scales like those of a lizard or serpent, red and violet mottle in color. Massive shoulders and arms ended in huge black talons, and the apelike face was a mask of hatred and rage. He let forth with a roar that caused the walls of the cavern to shake, loosening soil, which rained down on everyone.
Huge fangs protruded down from the exaggerated upper lip, and the demon’s head was adorned with two long black horns that tapered backward to points, more like those of an antelope than a goat or ram. He shook his head in frustration and howled in outrage at being confined and injured.
Pug had limited experience with demons, and all of it bad. He did not hesitate to follow up his confinement spell with as powerful an assault as he could muster.
Tendrils of flaming white and purple energy shot forward, waving like the tentacles of a squid as they latched onto the creature’s body. As each touched the demon’s hide, more acrid black smoke was released and a tiny flame of dull orange shot upward.
The demon trembled as he fought against his confinement, then howled again in outrage and burst the binding spell. The shock that reverberated back through the tether and struck Pug’s mind was like a physical blow.
The Oracle’s mystic powers were nothing like the battle magic the greater dragons of Midkemia possessed, but physically she was still a force to fear. She lashed out with claws and teeth, sinking them deep into the demon’s shoulder at the neck. Fountains of steaming black blood erupted and flowed down his back and chest as he lashed over his shoulder with the opposite claw, raking her muzzle, seeking to rip her eyes to blind her.
Pug shook off the shock of the magical backlash and sent out a spear of energy. This was one he had never employed before save in practice in an isolated part of his island.
Invisible, the energy still filled the cavern with a hissing noise, a counterpoint to the shouts and screams from the Oracle’s companions as they hurled themselves at the demon.
The Oracle’s companions were not without their own magic and strength, and while the first to reach the demon was eviscerated with one strike of the creature’s claw, the next two were able to inflict injury. The dragon’s maw held fast on the creature’s shoulder, while Pug and the companions caused him as much damage as possible.
The invisible energy spear struck the demon full on in the chest and he stiffened, as if run through by cold iron. The creature’s mouth moved, as if trying to speak or roar, and Pug suspected he was attempting some type of incantation. But the injury done by the spell was too much for him, and his eyes rolled up into its skull and it fell limp.
For a moment the Oracle held fast to the demon, now as listless as a child’s doll, then she released his hold. Pug saw gashes in the dragon’s snout, blood flowing freely down to drip on the still carcass of the demon, but knew them to be relatively trivial.
“Stand back!” instructed Pug as the Oracle’s companions were still attacking the now fallen demon. “Back!” he commanded as calm returned to the room.
As he anticipated, the demon’s body began to smoke, as if smoldering, and then abruptly came a flash of crimson flame, gone almost as soon as it was perceived. A stench of brimstone and putrefaction filled their nostrils, and several of the remaining companions fell back as if physically repelled by the odor.
Pug turned toward the towering figure of the Oracle of Aal and asked, “You wanted to see me?”
Over the years Pug and the Oracle of Aal had forged a trusting relationship, though Pug had never been convinced their aims were entirely the same. The Oracle, despite having the appearance of a mighty dragon, was as alien to the world of Midkemia as any creature he had ever encountered.
The Aal were rumored to be the oldest life in the universe; at least no other race could trace their lineage back as far. Even the Dragon Lords at the height of their power gave the Aal a wide berth and left them in peace.
When Pug had first encountered them, they were a dying race, as the world upon which they resided was ending its long life. Pug had offered those remaining passage to Midkemia, and through a series of circumstances—fate or coincidence, Pug still didn’t know—the Oracle had found a host in the mindless body of Midkemia’s single greatest creature, a golden dragon.
Her companions have found willing hosts among men and women of diverse backgrounds, many from among the lowest of the low. They were sought out over the years by practitioners of arcane arts even Pug didn’t pretend to understand, and offered a unique place in this world, as servants and companions to the Oracle.
Pug allowed himself to believe no coercion was involved and those who were here were so willingly; it let him sleep better at night. But for whatever reasons, those in this cave were willing to give up their lives to protect this unique creature.
As many times as Pug had visited this cavern, he had still only a vague idea of this race’s history and place in the order of things. His direct questions were always answered with vague responses and generalities, and he came to accept that he would only know what it was the Oracle wished him to know. He was content with that, for she had proven a valuable asset to his world’s defense on more than one occasion. He could concede it to be self-interest, for if this world perished, she would along with it, but he judged her motives loftier than that; she seemed genuinely concerned with helping Pug and his Conclave reestablish a semblance of order in this part of a very big universe.
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