On purpose, a sorcerer beset beyond hope might shear of~ t~i~ted portions of his being. For the mage-trained, the perils of po~,~si0~ and conquest were too terrible a risk to set loose on the ~ ~rld a~ large.

Worse, far worse, if such maiming defense had not irn~la~ed those truncated fragments. Laced still in shared contact, ~'th~'ir masked dismay. Those severed shreds of Traithe's consci~,~s~s~ might well still exist. If they had survived the cautery of confi: :. tJ~e~.

would live in the clutch of the wraiths which devoured them. ~ ;~! [o~ essence of self could be nowhere else but mewed up under the, d~ci~i vibrations of the wards over Rockfell Pit. The chance was too r~.~i, tha Traithe's hope of healing lay imprisoned with the Mistwraitt~ ~, ~tt~.

of warped spirits.

The Warden of Althain snapped his fine band of rapport. C.~t ir~ of Traithe's blinkered awareness, he shivered. The ordinary ~!~rk ~ the King's Chamber enfolded him, its brimstone tang of spent ~. ~rbv commingling with the faded fragrance of the herbs that kept ~'~t'

from spoiling the heraldic banners. Sweat drenched him. A t,~, deep dread compounded his earlier heartache.

He scarcely dared move, lest Traithe be led to sense somethit'

amiss and begin a distressed round of questions.

"Get some rest," Sethvir urged, amazed that his voice should st 116.

COldli- t scat-i ~lice, ~rden ~isec- dis- ~rror ,he ~ast veil the )ell ;or.

FUGITIVE PRINCE.

function. He managed no more. The devastating scope of his findings overcame him, and pity closed his throat like poured lead.

While Traithe relieved the ache of his scars in sleep on a cot in the wardroom, the other four Fellowship Sorcerers in residence gathered in the cushioned nook off the pantry.

The unwelcome impact of Sethvir's discovery had spun into brittle silence.

Asandir's charcoal eyebrows met above his hawk nose. Seated at a deal table grayed with old rings left by flowerpots, he plowed the last crumbs from an oatcake into mazes of meaningless lines. In the win- dow seat opposite, feet tucked up on a tapestry stool leaking horse- hair stuffing in tufts, Althain's Warden peered into the dregs of a much chipped earthenware pot. A mug turned for a sunchild's pro- portions sat clasped between his knobby knees. Sethvir found noth- ing useful to say. The tracks between soggy clumpings of tea leaves held no remedy to heal Traithe's affliction.

"How often ignorance stings less than knowledge," Asandir said at last.

By then, a wintery aquamarine dusk tinted the room's makeshift casement. Hoarfrost tendriled the bottle-thick rondels, crudely set into leading and mortar to seal the aperture of an arrow loop. Failing light glinted on the diamond inset in some forgotten aristocrat's fancy table knife. The bone handle had yellowed, and a blade lapsed to tar- nish wore butter in undignifled smears. Nearby, a tin spoon stuck upright in the bubbled glass jar of a farmwife's elderberry jam.

A current of cold out of phase with the season prowled the rim of the table. "What does dung do in a byre but get deeper?" remarked Kharadmon's drifting presence.

To stall his rank flippancy, Luhaine spoke from the niche between the rococo cupboards of the larder. "If Traithe's chance of healing is linked with the quandary of Desh-thiere's damned wraiths, in horrid fact, we're left with a dearth of alternatives."

"Just the sort of crux in a chess game to drive logicians and theo- rists to fits." Kharadmon crossed the window in a puff of miffed agi- tation. "We might be advised to set calming wards to safeguard your sanity as precaution."

"How belated," Luhaine retorted. "I'd sooner go mad from your incessant, childish inanities!"

Kharadmon blew back a raspberry. "Leave things to you, we'd hear you pontificate 'til the fish in the sea become fossils."

Long since inured to old spats between shades, Asandir twiddled 117.

JANNY WURTS.

crumbs, and Sethvir pondered tea leaves, each one immersed i furbed quiet. None cared to broach the difficult Traithe's tragic predicament made the cursed princes' lives more indispensable. Their elemental mastery of shadows and couM be needed to sort through the Mistwraith's damned The outlook on that future stayed unremittingly grim, with half-deranged by the pinch of s'Ffalenn conscience, and named hunted criminal; and Lysaer s'Ilessid poised to launch holy under threat of Paravian judgment.

Traithe's raven fluffed obsidian feathers from the keystone over doorway, while Luhaine intoned arch opinion. "There could be a ]

efit to this day's bad work. A reprieve might arise out of, Lysaer's aberration of prime law would draw the Pararians out hiding to denounce him."

"No grace remains for discussion in any case." Sethvir raised nose from the dregs of his tea mug, his mood diffused into "We've got company. Morriel Prime's just arrived at the gates demand our immediate audience."

118.

Winter Solstice 5649 Demand ~mter gloaming cloaked the sedges, and the raked, brown stalks of dry weed heads flattened to the gusts that sheared off the Bittern Desert. At the edge of the dunelands, under sky like translucent enamel, Althain Tower reared up in blunt contour, spidery runners of ivy and splotched lichens clotted to its southern side. Morriel Prime worked age-stiffened joints through the snipped-off fingers of her gloves. Swathed under layers of thick, hooded cloaks, she drew a deep breath of the knifing, cold air, and quashed back a riptide of old rage.

Koriani feud with the Fellowship of Seven had lasted since Third Age Year One.

Behind her, fidgety amid the slurry of mud and rimed ruts which seized the stone flags by the gate arch, her young deaf-mute servant stared with his mouth slacked open. No other but Iyan attended her.

Too much power and too many secrets lay housed at Althain Tower.

Mortals who asked a Sorcerer's hospitality were wont to reemerge changed, since the impacting force of a Fellowship presence was too heady to encounter without sparking an altered perception. No enchantress dared count herself exempt. Despite the strict code of the initiate's oath, Elaira's faulted faith in the Koriani Order had stemmed from just one illicit talk with Asandir.

Morriel sized up the massive grilled portal, impenetrable before her high arts. That irri~tion galled her with surprising ferocity.

Learned as she was, disciplined in the mysteries and dedicated as fine 119.

JANNY WURTS.

steel in her convictions, even still, the spelled wards on the outside her means to command. Seals conformed in tied her attuned senses. The ache of them raised twinges from the longevity bindings laid in live flesh.

In the moan of winter winds, under a zenith deepened to fath0~.

less cobalt, the thorny coil of past event transferred its harsh sting~ the present.

Morriel cupped the wrapped Waystone against her breast, t~o ~, ~ of her left hand white knuckled to secure her cloak against th. ::,:, Althain's defenses had endured for unnatural centuries, the !~ .:'

an age before a destitute humanity had embarked on its flight ~.~.

refuge. While spacefaring civilization had torn itself ~t~ pack scrap over the bones of its fallen greatness, the l~e] ~ Seven had maintained an isolate residence on Athera.

Whoever they had been, whatever their unrevealed c~ri~i '.

chose this place for their work. During the Second Age. t~ turned the bloody tides in the Paravian conflict against t? '~ packs of drake spawn. Rescued from near extinction t.~ ~ had survived to see peace on their overlooked and unct ~ world.

No such enclave of wise powers had intervened to ~ ~ mankind's beleaguered decline.

Amid the suffering and the atrocities of humanity's ~ ~a~ ' '

the Koriani Order had been founded to resist the collapse oJ higher culture. Their purpose had been to perpetuate mercy, while other specious, greedy factions waged war, and burned a pricel~'~ heritage to ashes.

~?tatFragmented ~now~'edge remarried ~o be salYaged 1~:~ o~ t~ brink of being lost beyond all recovery. Morriel confront~'~.~ t~e fast sanctuary at Althain, her mood like fired obsidian. Too many ~.~[ her predecessors had begged these same Sorcerers for help. Each ~atri- arch had been unconditionally refused. Now, when her own t~.'rrn 0f office neared its end, the current Prime shouldered the more d~'t~ea~- ing errand of petitioning for power that was hers.

The necessity ignited a rage of bitter vintage. She alone gt~,~rded access to the imprinted memories of every Prime Matriarch t~ li~'e before her. To Morriel, sole protector of mankind's banished hist0r~; the green earth here was no refuge, but a prison kept ward~'d b~'

tyranny.

At the dawn of the Third Age, when the refugee survivors arrived to beg asylum, the Fellowship of Seven claimed no pretense. 'Ihev 120.

FuG sworn to guard the lar the culture that shaper with indigenous tradition.

pact, for which the Fellows!

The Koriani, with their r voice in that council. To Enchantress should rise ab the burden bequeathed b weary of the proscribed la only be passed on to the p~ Althain Tower's stark hurting, chill winter twill time or attrit5on might era.

Morriel trembled as th fed her temper. Behind ~ past this world's horizon, lization her predecessors lated wisdom of those beyond recovery by the t Sorcerers in behalf of thre The moment was past, to do battle on Fellowsh righteous indignation an The clank of a wind]

notice. Counterweightet way as the innermost d falls echoed through the gate cracked open. Asa behind the lowered grat "sethvir bids you we lenged in chisel-cut bh conversation concernir Bransian s'Brydion in ~ Morriel released a 1.

forward, and rasped h~ The unveiled preset across the litter of eml~ not yet tidied from ~ entourage felt comfort~ with his knees drawn'

of the stamped tin spc FUGITIVE I~RINCE.

were swom to guard the land by Paravian law. If mankind would set- tle, the culture that shaped them must be set aside to keep accord with indigenous tradition. Such were the terms drawn into the com- pact, for which the Fellowship Sorcerers stood surety.

The Koriani, with their mission of merciful protection, were lent no ce in that council. Tolerance might argue that today's Prime ~: :hantress should rise above the outworn grievance of the past. Yet the burden bequeathed by her office was too heavy. Time left her weary of the proscribed knowledge she sheltered, records that might 0nty be passed on to the precarious charge of a successor.

Althain Tower's stark dignity only mocked her in that bone- hurting, chill winter twilight, monument that it was against all that time or attrition might erase.

Morriel trembled as the old flare of rage stirred her blood. Truth tea her temper. Behind this locked portal lay power enough to grow ?acer this world's horizon, to restore at one stroke all the shining civi- !iz,~tion her predecessors had labored to save; and lost. The accumu- !ated wisdom of those centuries was dispersed, or else confined be,.'ond recovery by the bucolic bounds of a compact sworn by seven 5~,;cerers in behalf of three vanished races.

~he moment was past, to mourn, or waver, or regret. Morriel came ~< ~o battle on Fellowship ground, armed with naught else but her :':~!~teous indignation and the exhausted rags of her faith.

the clank of a windlass heralded the moment her arrival drew ~, ~, Counterweighted chain reverberated inside the sealed arch- y as the innermost defenses were winched open. Then firm foot- r,~ii s echoed through the vaults of the sally port, and the heavy, barred ~;~ie cracked open. Asandir's craggy profile jutted through the gap, i,~':find the lowered grate of the portcullis.

'Sethvir bids you welcome to Althain Tower," he called, then chal- i~.~}ged in chisel-cut bluntness, "He invites you for tea and specific c~,nversation concerning an arrow let fly three years past by Duke t~r~nsian s'Brydion in Vastmark."

Morriel released a laugh of bloodletting satisfaction, waved Iyan forward, and rasped her reply. "You may tell Sethvir, I accept."

The unveiled presence of the Great Waystone flicked violet lights across the litter of empty plates and the glass sides of the jam crock not yet tidied from the table. The lone member of the Prime's ~t~tourage felt comfortably at home. Iyan perched in the window seat w,~th his knees drawn up, contentedly licking traces of elderberry off ~t ~he stamped tin spoon. The more elegant butter knife, cleaned the 121.

same way, rema'med in the possessive grasp o~ the hooked to h'~s cross-~artered sh'~r~.

Sethvir approved the deaf-mute's simplistic childish innocence. The bearded, sprite's features veiled in the which wafted off a fresh tea mug held no guile. As a host faultlessly attentive, and yet, the sparkle to his eyes warned ward refusal to address the major talisman Morriel had before him.

To her stripped ultimatum to reverse his act o mischief and.

its Named imprint from the earth's eidet~c awareness, he re?roacht~l com?laisancy 'Z)one is finished Who could live up the conceit you believe I possess?" His irreverent manner to gleeful chagrin. "You embarked on a journey of four leagues in bellel i could sway the will of a planet? My dear, I am as well as sorry for the discomfort and inconvenience brought your expectations. But no living power in Athera could move the earth to do as you ask."

Morriel hissed in a sharp breath. "You're lying." Nestled in shawls, ensconced in a padded chair like an egg in a silk-lined cup, shared her glare equally between Althain's Warden and Asandir, who leaned against the doorpost, his bench lately banished to the larder t0 make room for visitor seating. The afterglow behind the paned arrow slit had fled. Plate rims poised above the pooled shadows cast by a tallow dip spiked on an iron pricket.

Unsinged by the Prime's focused ire, blissfully intent on sloshLug the dollop of cinnamon butter just added to flavor his tea, Sethvir shrugged. "What you think doesn't matter. Your crystal has been rec- ognized, and earth will abide by its own nature."

He might have said more, but Luhaine snatched the opening to expound. "Stone and soil, you must know, are susceptible to energy.

Like the mind of a mimic, they will copy and retain the patterns of induced vibrations. No made spell under sky could remand that given property." Warmed now to his subject, the invisible spirit ran over the Prime's reedy protest. "And anyway, the conundrum's not linked to a balanced equation. To invoke the attempt to dominate a planet would create an unsolvable backlash. Where could the dis- charge from such a raised force become grounded? Earth itself would reject the called power to bind it into subservience! Even if this were a mutable truth, how could its awareness of your great crystal's reso- nance be masked? The memory of land is scribed in the language of epochs. It endures across cataclysm. Ath Creator did not gift its being with forgetfulness."

122.

~een ~~~-.

ted FUGITIVE PRINCE.

"Then give me a spell of illusion for blinding concealment," Mor- t/el demanded.

Sethvir looked up from his mug, his eyebrows tipped in patent injury. "Just because you accuse me of deceit doesn't mean I'll change tag character to become so." He glanced across at Iyan, who held the spoon in locked jaws, as if he sensed the tensioned undercurrents to words deaf ears could not hear.

A/thain's Warden set down his tea. He turned his back, gave the mute servant's arm a kindly pat, then vacated his chair to share the cushion in the window seat.

Balked by his move from polite negotiation, Morriel shifted target and accosted Asandir. "Indeed, the hour has come to discuss that arrow once loosed in Vastmark."

Ghost quiet on his feet, the Sorcerer who arranged the Fellowship's field work moved his tall frame and claimed Sethvir's empty chair.

He slid the filled tea mug aside and laced his fingers over crossed forearms. "You provoked an attempt to assassinate Arithon s'Ffalenn by fanning Duke Bransian's urge for blood feud." His riposte matched hers like test'rag, cold steel. "No light matter"

"For that you hobbled the powers of our Great Waystone, admit it," Morriel accused. Eyes like jet bead bored into the Sorcerer's of impenetrable, mirror-glass gray. "You protect Rathain's prince, peril that he is. A mage-trained master fallen under curse of violence will incite more deaths than that one, on Duke Bransian's arrow. I'll say what I think. Your Fellowship has never regarded the people on this ~~~rld as more than expendable ciphers."

"We'll set aside the question of whether you're qualified to make any judgment on that." Asandir gave no sign he was perturbed. "The issues are separate, in fact."

"I see." Morriel raked up a disdainful cough. "The nature of an inanimate earth and its resistance to change weighs more than our Waystone's potential to spare cities with children and families from the misfortunes of storm or disaster?" She stabbed a stiff finger from beneath her layered fortress of blankets. "Condemn yourself, Sor- cerer, by those answers already given."

The tallow dip flared, streamed by an affronted swirl of draft. But whichever discorporate Sorcerer roused up for rebuttal bowed before Asandir's prior claim to defense. "Lady Morriel, where are your grounds for dispute? Athera's land and natural resource were never placed at humanity's disposal."

"Which point is moot, since your precious Paravians have left their ancestral ground." Morriel jabbed home her point. "Will you 123.

JANNY WU~T$.

endorse bloodshed lust to hold your Iof~y?lace as guardians abandoned heritage? WhiIe you mourn for vanished unicorns, ou~ cities slide further into violence. Your Teir's'Ffalenn is too perilous a presence to leave at large in the world. I see you're not blind to the flaws in his nature. If your Fellowship won't act to curb his lethal cleverness, our order must. Lysaer's rule offers selfless governance, a i fair concern for the needs of society. The obsessions the Mistwraith has driven him to embrace will fade without fuel if Arith0n is removed as his target. I find no justification whatsoever for restraint.

How should any one life be worth the thirty thousand left dead at Vastmark?"

"Because we are not speaking for one individual, but of the ~ur- vival of all life on Athera," Kharadmon snapped with blistering irony.

"That is the root of our quandary," Asandir admitted.

The clipped note to his speech arrested Morriel's tirade. She nar- rowed seamed eyes and read closer, disturbed by the precedence that Luhaine permitted his rival's remark to stand unchallenged. Through the coarse, ruddy flare of the tallow dip, past the vicious play of static thrown off by the unshielded Waystone, she at last interpreted Asandir's stark patience for the stillness of a desperate uncertainty.

"What have you done?" she whispered point-blank. Then in knifing accusation, "How is our world set at risk?"

"The peril is not new, but an ongoing extension of the trouble begun when man first created the aberrated mists of Desh-thiere."

Asandir sat forward. "If I may?" He caught up the Waystone in long fingers, impervious, as though it possessed no more hazardous an aura than a chunk of unwarded glass.

The Prime Enchantress bridled. Convinced he had the effrontery to mock her by degrading her grand focus as a scrying stone, she gath- ered herself to revile him. Yet he did nothing but pass the jewel back across the table.