The Emir shrugged. "It is a simple experiment."
"How does it work? Did you change the ball?"
Miro thought about the runes that made his zenblade feel as light as a feather.
"I did not. The quicksilver has special properties, as do many other substances. Tell me, do the people of your land study such things?"
Miro thought about the Academy of Enchanters. "No, they don't."
The Emir reached out for another vial, this one containing a black powder. He removed the stopper and poured a little of the powder into his fingers.
"Come," he said, leading Miro back towards the terrace, where the lights of the city glittered below.
There was a torch near the parapet, ensconced against a supporting column. Without warning, the Emir flicked his fingers at the torch.
There was a sudden sparkle in the air and a sizzling sound split the stillness of the night. Miro jumped, and Volkan laughed softly.
"You do not have black powder in your lands, do you?"
Miro smelled the same odour that had hung in the air after the explosion at the wedding.
"No, we do not."
"This is nothing," the Emir said dismissively. "The wonders that the Guild is capable of… You would be astounded."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Miro, this is what we are capable of, if we remove the crutch of lore. I mentioned the history of our people. Even many of the councillors don't know this, but I am the Emir, my father was Emir, and my grandfather was Emir before him, so I know."
Miro waited expectantly.
"Long ago, in the lands you call home, there was a great magical war. This war was fought with the most horrific weapons, and the suffering was terrible. Macabre creatures did battle, the forest was brought to life, and golems of wood and bone marched and destroyed all in their path. Fiery swords cut men into pieces, and flying machines rained death on those below."
Miro nodded, and thought about Evrin's story, and the fight to overthrow the Evermen. This must be the war the Emir was referring to. He thought about the more recent wars, and Volkan's scathing words struck home.
"We are those who fled. We are those who wanted nothing more to do with lore, with the death and the destruction. Taking pity on us, a group called the Buchalanti helped us make the great voyage across the sea, and promised never to reveal our presence to the other houses."
Miro's eyes widened, as the pieces of the puzzle finally fit together.
He had a sudden thought. "So your lands are at peace then?"
The Emir barked a laugh. "You're a sly one. No, we're not at peace. We have had our own wars, and still do. Technology has come to take the place lore once had, and now inventions like black powder give us a power of destruction almost equal to lore. Note," the Emir said, "I said almost."
Miro looked out from the palace as he listened to Volkan's words.
The Emir continued, "Look down at Emirald, our beautiful city. For every advance in war, we have had an advance in peace. We have learned about the way the body is constructed, and we have medicines to cure many ailments. Every year our poor get richer, and our merchants travel Veldria in safety. We Veldrins are safe not just because we build the best ships and we rule the seas, but also because we thirst for knowledge, and are the only truly civilised nation in Merralya. To us, all others are uncivilised, and rightly so."
"What of the other nations?" Miro said. From the map he'd seen, he knew this nation's neighbours must all be to the north.
"North of Veldria is Gokan, a small land and the only other that may claim to be civilised. We have fought in the past, but not for a hundred years. Staying strong is not a problem for the Gokani, for the Alchemists' Guild makes its home in their capital, Wengwai."
"And the others?"
"North of Gokan is Narea, a large nation with a powerful land-based army. They are constantly at war with the barbarians. We wish Narea to stay strong, for they protect us from the horde. Where we Veldrins rule the seas, Narea's mighty armies keep our lands safe from the tribes. The far north is where they call home, a cold land of icy steppes and mountains. They come from Oltara and they come from Muttara. Sometimes Oltara wars with Muttara, and the people of the south breathe freely. Twice in the past, Oltara and Muttara have joined forces under a single tribal chieftain, and once they sacked Monapea, the capital of Narea."
The names of these nations were strange to Miro, but he gathered that the people of Veldria, Gokan and Narea lived in constant fear of the barbarians in the north.
He thought about his quest to find the antidote to whatever terrible poison had struck Tomas. It was doubtful that Volkan would have the information he needed.