“I already know that,” he said impatiently. “What I want to know is if the Wood can block spells.”
“What kind of spells?” Sidhiel asked suspiciously.
He studied the Elf, his mouth tight. He was secretive by nature, and he hated to give up any kind of information to her, but there was no other way for him to find out what he needed to know. He said, “I have been dream casting, but last night either it didn’t reach Pia or she didn’t sleep. I chose to talk with you before I went down to South Carolina to discover for myself if she is all right.”
The Elf sucked in a breath, but she replied calmly enough. “There is no reason for alarm or for acting hastily. I believe in this case the Wood might have caused interference. Spell casting from within its borders is quite a different experience from casting a spell from the outside. It is important to keep in mind, Cuelebre—the Elves do not regard Pia in the same light as we do you. No one wishes her any harm.”
“So everyone has said,” he replied, eyeing her coldly. “Which is why I finally agreed to her visit in the first place. It does, however, occur to me that not everyone may have the same definition of harm. For instance, someone might think that taking my mate hostage would be a good way to try to control me. Then of course once you start talking about taking hostages, a whole new chessboard emerges.”
He watched realization dawn, and the Elf’s face went ashen. Her gaze darted to the scenery passing by outside the limousine’s windows. Madison Square Garden was several blocks southwest of the Plaza Hotel, and they were nowhere near the vicinity. The Councillor whispered hoarsely, “You do not want to do this.”
“Do I not?” He settled himself more comfortably. “Since we are talking, perhaps you can tell me why Numenlaurians have decided to visit Calondir.”
Sidhiel made a sharp gesture. “No one knows the answer to that except the Numenlaurians.”
“Speculate,” Dragos said.
“That would be pointless and irresponsible,” she bit out.
“Very well, if you won’t, I will,” he said softly. “I can think of one reason why Numenlaur would contact Calondir after silence for all these years. It’s the same reason that drove you to war in the first place when you fools discovered the Deus Machinae, and you thought you could control them.”
The Deus Machinae. The God Machines, items of Power that the seven Elder Races gods had cast to Earth at the time of creation in order to enact their will. The Elder Races had many myths of the Deus Machinae. At times the items appeared to be weapons or pieces of armor, and at other times jewelry or a tool. Their forms did not remain fixed. Their real nature was something infinitely more Powerful.
The Elf shifted in a sudden movement, her body oddly graceless, and a haunted expression entered her large, blue eyes. “We didn’t know then what we know now,” she said. “We thought the Deus Machinae had been given to us to use. We didn’t realize the Machinae would use us.”
“You thought they were yours to use as you saw fit, just as you thought you had the right to reshape the Earth,” he said, his quiet tone scathing. “You were ever arrogant that way.”
He had long held a fascination with the underlying patterns in the world—magic systems, science, the ever-shifting reality of economics and politics—and in the back of his mind, he was constantly piecing and repiecing together bits of information, like working on a gigantic puzzle of the universe.
Several pieces of information snicked into place, and another potential pattern came together in his head.
These things were set in motion at the beginning, along with the laws of the universe and of Time itself.
That voice from the Oracle’s prophecy. Numenlaur. The Deus Machinae, the seven items from the seven gods of the Elder Races, thrown to Earth at the beginning and working the will of the gods as they tumbled through history. Pure and primal, not form but Form, indivisible.
The world was not just filled with prophecy and predators, but it was filled with Power too. So much of the drama that played out on the modern-day stage came from the first things and the first creatures. First among those creatures were the gods themselves.
It was clear he would get no more out of the Elf. Once her usefulness to him ended, he lost interest in her.
The limousine pulled smoothly up to the curb at Cuelebre Tower. As the vehicle rolled to a stop, a young Wyr male ran out of the Starbucks on the ground floor, wearing a green apron and carrying a covered cup. As the Starbucks employee reached the limo, Dragos opened the door and climbed out.