Kaspar said, ‘I always thought it a place, a name on the map.’
Tomas inclined his head. ‘They are the most ancient race of this world, and they are the heart of this world. If the creatures of the Void destroy them, then nothing can stop the Dasati. These elves, the Children of the Sun as they call themselves, have always served as the guardians of the Quor.’
‘Where are they?’ asked Jim.
‘High above us,’ answered Tomas. ‘In the Peaks of—’
‘The Quor,’ said Kaspar and Jim together.
Tomas turned without further comment and strode out of the gates of the enclave. He moved quickly down to the meadow where the giant red dragon patiently waited to carry him home.
Jim turned to Kaspar. ‘Now what?’
Kaspar said, ‘We go hunting, unless you’re keen to eat nuts and dried fruit for the next few days.’
Jim sighed. ‘If I must. That’s one thing I was never very good at.’
‘You’ll learn,’ said Kaspar, clapping him on the shoulder. ‘Come, let’s go talk to our new friends about organizing another hunt, and let’s pray we get some game worth cooking before Tomas returns to chase them away. There was a twelve-point stag in that group and I had my heart set on venison tonight.’
‘Sorry,’ said Jim, wishing with all his might that he could have convinced Tomas to drop him off along the way in Krondor. Now that would have been a sight, the a giant red dragon settling in the prince’s marshalling yard. How that would have impressed Lady Michele de Frachette and her father, the Earl of Montagren! He sighed, wondering if he would ever see Michele again, and then he wondered if she missed him. Pushing aside that concern, he followed Kaspar back into the main hall of Baranor.
CHAPTER TWELVE - Disclosure
MIRANDA PACED.
Alenca and the other Great Ones had gathered in an informal council. They sat patiently around a large garden in the City of Magicians, home of the Assembly. The oldest magician in the meeting, except for Miranda, Alenca watched with some amusement as she paced around, unable to remain still during the discussion. ‘You should try to sit and relax,’ he counselled her. ‘It helps me to think clearly.’
She shook her head and kept walking. ‘There’s nothing wrong with the clarity of my thought. What’s wrong is that we haven’t yet found Leso Varen.’
Matikal, a burly magician of middle years who shaved his head, making him look more like a bruiser at an alehouse than a master of scrying magic, said, ‘Every member of this Assembly, and every priest of every order, and every magician of the Lesser Path we can reach knows what to look for. Every master of detection and scrying has used every art we possess to look for any signs of necromancy. The moment we find a hint of his death magic, we shall swarm him and destroy him, no matter what the cost.’
Miranda stopped her pacing. She realized that this man was pledging his life to destroy Varen, and understood that every other member of this Assembly was also committed to dying if it meant removing the threat of the Midkemian death-magician. Miranda’s position within the Assembly had always been a difficult one. Until her husband’s intervention and the rise of the Mistress of the Empire, any female with the potential for magic was put to death. It was only in the last century that women who practised magic were allowed to use their talents openly, and many of the traditionalists still had difficulty accepting female Black Robes as ‘sisters’, let alone this ill-mannered wild woman from another world. It was only her marriage to Milamber, greatest of the Great Ones, that earned her their grudging regard.
The attack on the Emperor had changed all that. Now, her words were carefully listened to and every suggestion weighed thoughtfully. The single most horrendous act imaginable to a Great One had been attempted, the destruction of the Light of Heaven, and all lesser concerns were set aside in the face of that.
Alenca said, ‘Perhaps he has fled back to your world.’
Miranda shook her head emphatically. ‘No. My husband is unsurpassed in the knowledge of rifts. He set safeguards before he departed on his journey. Had any rift into Midkemia been opened, it would have been detected.’
‘Then he has gone to ground,’ said Matikal.
Miranda said, ‘Forgive my impatience. I hate being in the position of having to wait for our enemy to reveal himself.’ She pointed to the north, as if she could see the distant peaks through the walls of the building. ‘He’s hiding somewhere, up in a mountain cave.’ She pointed to the south. ‘Or in some tiny hut in a secluded corner of a miserable swamp – he’s endured worse over his life from what I’ve heard. But he’ll wait as long as he must, and then he’ll act, and we can only hope that when he does it’s nothing worse than his last attack.’
‘What,’ asked Alenca, ‘could be worse than an attack on the Emperor?’