~
IN THE tower Prince Ilathor Shanti had made his headquarters, high above the streets of Torlac, a Petryan named Leptar stole into the prince's chamber.
He knew about the warning to stay clear of the barracks. It made his task that much easier. Leptar had received a message by pigeon from High Lord Haptut Alwar. His ruler wanted to know what this magic was that the Hazarans were preparing.
Leptar hardly needed to be quiet; the barracks were completely deserted. Discarding all caution, he began to rummage through the papers on the prince's desk, searching for some clue to what the man was planning. Giving up, he moved to the maps on the wall, but the squiggles meant nothing to him. He could see the borders and rivers, the great lake and the mountains to the north, but what were those other lines? Were they plans of attack? There were many lines plotting a course between Petrya and Tingara through the Gap of Garl, but what would the High Lord care about that?
Then Leptar heard a great thudding boom, following by a strange hiss. He wondered what it was, and then it came to him.
The great magic; it was here. It was the reason the prince didn't want anyone going near the barracks. He'd warned everyone else away, and now he was secreted away with his loremasters, building some terrible weapon.
Leptar knew it was risky, but he was brave, and loyal to the High Lord, who had promised him riches and a harem of young concubines. He decided to follow the sounds and see if he could get a look.
Leptar descended the steps from the tower, being a little more cautious now that he realised the creators of magic were somewhere in the barracks. Another hiss came from deep below, guiding his footsteps, and soon Leptar was on the ground level.
They must be in the cellars.
The air grew warm as Leptar descended. He turned a corner and saw a strange glowing cord enter a room at one end and plummet down some stairs at the other. Congratulating himself on his intuition, which had never served him wrong, he followed the cord down the stairs and into the cellars.
Leptar reached the foot of the stairs and saw that the pulsing cord vanished under a heavy wooden door. He suddenly felt he should leave; there were those with powers he did not understand on the other side of this door. Yet what could he say to the High Lord if he didn't open the door?
Leptar drew the heavy bone-handled knife he wore at his side. There were no guards; the men inside wouldn't be expecting him.
With a mighty pull, Leptar hauled the door open.
A loud bubbling and hissing assaulted his senses, and clouds of hot steam rolled at him, so that for a moment he couldn't see.
The glowing line broke into strands, each strand running into a tank. As Leptar looked on, his mouth agape, the sides of the tank closest to him began to glow.
About the same time Leptar realised it wasn't the glow of magic — it was the glow of heat — the tank melted from the intense temperature as the salted water vaporised to steam, and the superheated steam reached higher and higher pressures in the sealed tank.
Leptar opened his mouth to scream as a river of molten stone poured past his legs, but there was a series of explosions, and flying slag splattered into his face and chest.
He didn't make a sound.
33
ELLA chanted constantly as she transferred the heat of the lake into the tanks under the barracks in Torlac.
This lore was far too powerful for a single activation sequence, and her lips moved continually as she called the names of the runes, reading the colours of the symbols on the thick shaft sunk into the lake, noting which were brightest and which grew dim.
Cracks appeared under the surface of the lake, and Ella heard murmurs behind her; cries of wonder.
Deciding it was time, Ella called forth the final activation. "Luktar-loklur!"
With a mighty crack like thunder, Lake Halapusa froze as the water turned solid at Ella's command.
Ella's arms flopped back to her sides, and she turned back to where Jehral and Prince Ilathor sat astride their horses watching her. Shani stood nearby. Ella smiled — a weary smile of triumph.
"I should never have doubted you," the prince breathed, awe-struck. "Both of you," he said, turning to Shani.
"How long will it last?" Jehral asked.
"The heat has been sunk into salted tanks of water underneath the barracks in Torlac," Ella said. "If my and Shani's calculations are correct, they should hold enough heat for the lake to stay frozen for at least a day."
"And if they are not?" Jehral said. "Sorry, Ella, but I have to ask."
"Then, man of the desert," Shani said. "You'll be swimming in boiling water before the day is out."