“My teacher, old Yolric, used to insist the world has a way of righting itself. He was obsessed with the idea. I thought he was crazy, but after living for nine hundred years, you perceive things differently. You see patterns you never knew were there. The heir isn’t dead, Hadrian, just hidden.”
“I know you’d like to think that, but my father failed and the heir died. I talked to a member of the Theorem Eldership who was there. He saw it happen.”
Esrahaddon shook his head. “I’ve seen the heir with my own eyes, and I recognize the blood of Nevrik. A thousand years cannot mask such a lineage from me. Still, just to be sure, I performed a test that cannot be faked. Oh yes, the heir is alive and well.”
“Who is it, then? I’m the guardian, aren’t I? Or I’m supposed to be. I should be protecting him.”
“At the moment, anonymity is a far better protection than swords. I cannot tell you the heir’s identity. If I did, you would rush off and be a beacon to those watching.” The wizard sighed. “And trust me, I know a great deal about being watched. In Gutaria they wrote down every word I uttered. Even now, at this very moment, every word I say is being heard.”
“You sound like Royce.” Hadrian looked around. “We’re alone, surrounded by an army of Nationalists. Do you think Saldur or Ethelred have spies pressing an ear against this farmhouse?”
“Saldur? Ethelred?” Esrahaddon chuckled. “I’m not concerned with the imperial regents. They’re pawns in this game. Haven’t you wondered how the Gilarabrywn escaped Avempartha? Do you think Saldur or Ethelred could manage such a trick? My adversary is much more dangerous, and I’m certain he spends a great deal of time listening to what I say, no matter where I am. You see, I do not have the benefit of that amulet you wear.”
“Amulet?” Hadrian touched his chest, feeling the metal circle under his shirt. “Royce said it prevents wizards like you from finding the wearer.”
The wizard nodded. “Preventing clairvoyant searches was the primary purpose, but they are far more powerful than that. The amulets protect the wearers from all effects of the Art and have a dash of good fortune added in. Flip a coin wearing that, and it will come up the way you need it to more often than not. You’ve been in many battles and I’m sure in plenty of dangerous situations with Royce. Have you not considered yourself lucky on more than one occasion? That little bit of jewelry is extremely powerful. The level of the Art that went into making it was beyond anything I’d ever seen.”
“I thought you made it.”
“I did, but I had help. I could never have built them on my own. Yolric showed me the weave. He was the greatest of us. I could barely understand his instructions and wasn’t certain I had performed the spell properly, but it appears I was successful.”
“Still, you’re the only one left in the world who can really do magic, right? So there’s no chance anyone is magically listening.”
“What about this rain? It’s not supposed to stop? It would seem I’m not the only one.”
“You’re afraid of Arista?”
“No, just making a point. I’m not the only wizard in the world and I’ve already been far too careless. In my haste, I took chances that maybe I should not have, drawing too much attention, playing into others’ hands. With so little time left—only a matter of months—it would be foolhardy to risk more now. I fear the heir’s identity has already been compromised, but there is a chance I’m wrong and I’ll cling to that hope. I’m sorry, Hadrian. I can’t tell you just yet, but trust me, I will.”
“No offense, but you don’t seem too trustworthy.”
The wizard smiled. “Maybe you are Jerish’s descendant after all. Very soon I’ll need Riyria’s help with an extremely challenging mission.”
“Riyria doesn’t exist anymore. I’ve retired.”
The wizard nodded. “Nevertheless, I’ll require both of you, and as it concerns the heir, I presume you’ll make an exception.”
“I don’t even know where I’ll be.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll find you both when the time comes. But for now, we have the little problem of Lord Dermont’s army to contend with.”
There was a knock at the door. “Horses ready, sirs,” the new adjutant general reported.
As they stepped out, Hadrian spotted Gill walking toward him with his purse. “Good morning, Gill,” Hadrian said, taking his pouch back.
“Morning, sir,” he said, looking sick but making an effort to smile. “It’s all there, sir.”
“I’m a bit busy at the moment, Gill, but I’m sure we’ll have a chance to catch up later.”
“Yes, sir.”
Hadrian mounted a brown-and-white gelding that Bently held for him. He watched as Esrahaddon mounted a smaller black mare by hooking the stub of his wrist around the horn. Once in the saddle, the wizard wrapped the reins around his stubs.
“It’s strange. I keep forgetting you don’t have hands,” Hadrian commented.