Part 7 (1/2)

”Let's discuss what we do know,” he said, and started to count off on his fingers. ”First, the Vanil lived in these lands before the coming of the Atalari, and were long gone when the Atalari got here, which means there hasn't been a living Vanil in Osseria for well over fourteen thousand years. What's next?”

”We don't know what happened to them,” Abaru said. ”Whether they died out, migrated somewhere else, or...something. I don't know. Were killed off by something else.”

”Considering how powerful they were rumored to be, I'd hate to think about what kinds of creatures might have been able to eradicate them. And don't forget I've seen one. It was a d.a.m.n impressive being.

”But, regardless of what may have happened, their disappearance is unexplained. Also, until one showed up here in the Tirthaig, no one was sure if they were real beings or part of some mythic folklore to scare Atalari children. The stories said that the Vanil could consume souls and therefore prevent them from reaching the afterlife.”

”My mother used to tell me stories like that to make me eat my dinner,” said Abaru.

”I can't imagine that you ever needed a threat in order to eat a meal.”

”You never tasted my mother's cooking. That's why I eat so much now. To make up for all that time I spent as a starving child.”

”Anyway, we know now they're real. And that this soul-devouring power they have appears to be real, too, considering what happened to the king. I could sense his soul being torn from his body. Gerin felt it too.”

”The amulet Rahmdil found came to life, signaling that a Vanil was walking Osseria,” said Abaru. ”Sometime later, one appears in the Tirthaig, kills the king, kneels to Gerin, and then vanishes.”

”It was drawn to Gerin. That much is obvious.”

”But why? Why him and not someone else?”

”He is the only amber wizard in the world,” said Hollin.

”Yes, but then why didn't a Vanil appear when Naragenth was alive?”

The two men were quiet as they pondered the question of what had drawn the Vanil to Gerin.

”Maybe it was the Staff of Naragenth,” said Abaru. Then he shook his head. ”No, because we're back to wondering why it didn't draw the Vanil when Naragenth created it.”

”Gerin didn't have the staff with him when the Vanil appeared,” said Hollin. His eyes widened and he sat up straighter. ”But he did have that b.l.o.o.d.y sword of his! In fact, the Vanil pointed to it before it vanished.”

”Yes, yes. I think we're on to something. But how do we test it? I don't think we should have your young apprentice try to call the d.a.m.n thing.”

”Absolutely not. But I do think this is close to the answer.” Hollin stood. ”Come on. There's not much more we can do at the moment. I need a drink.”

Gerin was in his study when the two wizards arrived to tell him their theory that the Vanil might have been drawn to the power of his sword.

”And why do you think this?” he asked.

They explained that the weapon was the only thing unique to Gerin that Naragenth didn't share.

”But you're a.s.suming it never appeared to Naragenth,” said Gerin. ”Maybe it did. It's not as if we're overflowing with accounts of his life. Maybe it appeared to him in secret. Maybe it showed him how to construct the Varsae Estrikavis and his staff.”

”Hmmm. We didn't think of that,” said Hollin.

Gerin was about to ask another question when he heard a faint musical sound, like bells or chimes. They had a strange sound to them, a kind of echo, as if they were sounding in some vast chamber. He wondered what was making the sound since there were no chimes or bells in his rooms or anywhere else in this part of the Tirthaig. It also was not time for the city's bells to be ringing.

”Do you hear that?” he asked the other two.

Abaru made a dismissive gesture. ”Just some bells.” He took a large swallow of wine.

But Hollin was frowning, sitting up straighter in his chair. ”No, not just bells. There's power in it.”

Something moved at the edge of Gerin's vision. He turned toward the corner of the room, where he saw the apparition of a man.

He stood so quickly that his chair flew out from behind him and toppled over, cracking loudly against the floor. The other wizards turned, saw the apparition, and a.s.sumed defensive postures. Gerin noted that Abaru moved amazingly fast for a man of his size. He drew magic into himself and felt the others do the same.

”How did you get in here?” Gerin asked.

The apparition was very tall, and far thinner than a living man could be. The edges of its form were blurred and wavering, as if seen through a depth of water. Its long hair floated about its head in defiance of gravity-again, giving Gerin the strong impression that the apparition was in some way submerged.

Its face was narrow and unremarkable, devoid of any kind of readable expression. Only its eyes were alive, deep green with yellow vertical slits for pupils. Those eyes darted about the room as if cataloging its contents. When its penetrating gaze fell upon Gerin, he could almost feel the weight of it pressing against him, as if it were trying to lay bare the deepest secrets of his heart.

It seemed to be wearing a dark robe, but this was so indistinct that Gerin could not be sure. The apparition was translucent, insubstantial, and kept to the side of the room farthest from the sunlight.

”I ask again, how did you get into the palace? I won't ask a third time.”

Hollin fas.h.i.+oned a Warding between them and the apparition. The being looked directly at it, obviously aware of its creation, even though the spell should not have been visible to nonwizards.

”Your spells are not necessary,” it said. When it spoke, the sounds of the bells grew louder. Its voice had a musical quality to it that Gerin found beautiful and soothing, though it also sounded distant, as if coming from far beyond the walls of the room.

”What are you?” asked Hollin.

”I am an akesh, sent by the Telchan of the Watchtowers.” It faced Gerin and grew larger, expanding like a sponge dropped into water. ”I have come to give you a message.”

”The Watchtowers!” said Abaru.

”What is your message?” said Gerin. ”I'll listen to what you have to say, but only if you agree to answer my questions.”

”I cannot,” it said. ”The power of the Telchan is not in words. It is difficult for me to be here. You must listen.

”If you wish to learn the secret of the Words of Making, you must come to the Watchtowers, to the en pulyan ar-anglota, so that we may tell you what we know. Our knowledge is not in words as you understand them and cannot be sent such distances. Even now I grow dim.”

It was true. As Gerin watched, the apparition grew more transparent, its edges fading into the air like ink bleeding off a wet page. ”You must come to us. This time we will permit your pa.s.sage.”

Then it was gone.

Gerin realized how tense he was and made an effort to relax. ”What in the name of all that's holy was that about?” He released the magic he'd drawn into himself. ”I didn't understand a thing it said. What's an akesh? Or a Telchan? And what in Shayphim's name are the Watchtowers, for that matter?”

Abaru gave his empty cup a quizzical stare. ”I don't think I had that much to drink.”

Gerin had to resist a very strong urge to punch Abaru in the side of the head. ”Do either of you have any idea what just happened here?”

Hollin was clearly troubled. ”We'll tell you what we can, but I fear that may not make this any clearer.”

Gerin recovered his chair and sat back down at the table. ”Abaru, since you have heard of the Watchtowers, why don't you start there. What are they? Where are they?”