The Khedeshian soldiers departed with the Sunrise Guard. Gerin and the others followed Hollin and Abaru. Elaysen and Nyene were awed by the splendor of Hethnost, and both women asked questions about the purposes of the many buildings and towers. Abaru took great delight in answering them. Zaephos took in everything but said nothing.

The Archmage's manor house was near the base of the Part.i.tion Rock. A servant ushered them in and took them to a council chamber with a large round table filling most of the s.p.a.ce. The servant returned with water, wine, bread, and cheese. "The Archmage will be with you shortly," said the young woman.

It was not long before Marandra strode into the room. As regal as a queen, tall and beautiful in a stern, cold way, she swept into the room with two other wizards close behind. Gerin's eyes were immediately drawn to the Ammon Ekril upon her brow. His pulse quickened with excitement. There it is, a few feet away from me. The receptacle for the kalaya mithran. The Words of Making.

Gerin recognized Sevaisan Barlaechi, the First Siege, and Kirin Zaeset, the Warden of Healing.

"I am surprised and pleased by your visit, unannounced as it is," said Marandra. She gave Hollin a pointed stare. "Please, introduce your new companions, and tell us why you are here."

Hollin gave her a warm greeting, then introduced her to Elaysen, Nyene, and finally Zaephos. He gave his name only. "I will leave it to you to tell them who and what you are," Hollin said to the messenger.

Marandra c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. "Indeed. An interesting statement." She fixed her gaze on Zaephos. "Please, sir, explain Hollin's curious introduction."

Zaephos inclined his head slightly. The expression on his face was unreadable to Gerin. What went on in that mind of his? Were his thoughts completely foreign to those of mortals? What did the world look like through his eyes?

"Greetings, Archmage of Hethnost. I am a messenger of the Maker, known in the mortal sphere as the One G.o.d as taught by the Prophet Aunphar, Elaysen's father."

Sevaisan scratched his dark beard, then folded his arms. "Preposterous. Hollin, I hardly find this appropriate. You may have thought it would be amusing, but I a.s.sure you it is not."

Gerin had never liked the First Siege. A dour, humorless man, all hard edges and filled with judgment and condescension. He'd wondered during his first stay here how such a man could have risen to such a position of power, and still had no idea what the other wizards saw in him.

"This is no joke, First Siege," said Hollin, more than a trace of irritation in his voice. "This is the divine messenger who appeared to Gerin when he first came here, and later appeared to him again in Almaris."

"He appeared to my father as well," said Elaysen. "He is indeed who he claims to be."

Sevaisan made a scoffing noise and settled back into his chair.

"What do you say, amber wizard?" the Archmage asked Gerin.

"Zaephos is exactly who he says he is. But whether you believe that or not, it's almost incidental to the reason we're here."

"You've not been able to take your eyes from the Ammon Ekril since I entered the room," she said to him.

"And with good reason."

The wizards of Hethnost already knew of the Havalqa search for the Words of Making from letters Hollin had sent to them. Now, Gerin, Hollin, and Abaru told the other wizards the story of the appearance of the akesh, their journey to the Watchtowers, and the dreams imparted to them by the Telchan.

"Incredible," said Kirin when they were done. "You actually entered the Watchtowers! Your abilities never cease to amaze me, Gerin."

Most of the food on the table was gone by then, and Marandra commanded a servant to bring them more.

"So you see why I cannot take my eyes from the Ammon Ekril, Archmage," said Gerin.

Carefully, she removed the circlet from her forehead and placed it on the table. "Hollin long believed there was some power hidden within its depths, much to my own annoyance. It has been studied for thousands of years, and no trace of power was ever discovered. I myself have worked countless spells on it but found nothing."

"The kalaya mithran may not be in the Ammon Ekril right now," said Gerin. He described the dream in which he saw the power enter the circlet from outside of it after the Changing of Nelien, waiting for the proper summons or incantation-it was unclear from the vision what catalyst had caused the power to join with the circlet. The dream indicated that the power was alive in some way, so perhaps it simply chose when and under what conditions to return to its receptacle.

"But you don't know how to determine if it's in the Ammon Ekril, or to summon it if it's not?" asked Kirin.

"Unfortunately," said Gerin.

The Archmage granted them permission to take and study the Ammon Ekril. "See what Rahmdil might know of this," she said. "Who knows what knowledge he has locked away in that private library of his?"

Elaysen made her way through the ma.s.sive Varsae Sandrova toward the office of the Warden of Healing. She'd had to ask a number of servants for directions, and got lost three times before finally reaching the solitary door at the end of a darkened hallway.

"h.e.l.lo, Warden," she said when he opened the door.

He looked surprised to see her. "Elaysen, come in. What can I do for you?"

"I came to ask you some questions, if I may. Aside from being the daughter of the Prophet, I am a healer in Almaris, what the common folk call a witching woman."

"I know of them well. Some of your remedies are quite potent. What questions would you ask?"

"First, if you would direct me to the section of the library where you keep books about nonmagical healing, I would love to read what you've gathered here. I can scarcely believe the size of this place."

"There are days when it still astounds me, I a.s.sure you."

"My pack was lost during the fight on our way to the Watchtowers. All of my medicines were lost with it. I'd like to replace them. Here is a list of the herbs and medicines I had." She held out a single sheet of parchment. "Is it possible you have these here? They're not magical in any way-at least that I'm aware of-so you may not bother with such things."

He took the parchment, put on a pair of reading spectacles, and examined the list. "We may have some of these, Elaysen; perhaps half. We keep some medicines here-magic is not always the best remedy-but our stores are limited because no one makes a study of these kinds of cures the way I'm sure you do."

"Do you know if you have any gypsa weed? It's also known as tallow weed or tallow root."

"I don't know. We'll have to check. I'm not familiar with any of those names. What is it used for?"

She paused, unsure how much she should say. "It's used to calm the mind," she said. "You may not have it here. It's native to the lands around Almaris. I've never heard of it growing elsewhere."

"Then you're right, we may not have it. Most of what's here has been grown at Hethnost or found relatively close by."

"Thank you for whatever help you can offer, Warden."

"You're most welcome. Come, I need a break. I'll take you to where you can read to your heart's content about healing in all its forms."

Gerin and the other wizards spent a week studying the Ammon Ekril in Rahmdil Khazuzili's private library. They probed it with every possible spell but could not determine whether the kalaya mithran was even in the circlet.

"Do you think our mysterious divine guest might have any insight?" asked Rahmdil. "I've tried to talk to him about the nature of the divine realm, but he declined to speak of it." He looked to Gerin. "Perhaps he would better respond to a request from you about this?"

"I've already asked him," said Gerin. "He said there's nothing he can do to help us." Gerin had not completely believed Zaephos, but he also knew there was nothing he could do to coerce him. The messenger followed his own path.

He was growing increasingly frustrated with their lack of progress, but tried to temper his impatience with the fact that the Ammon Ekril had been in the possession of wizards for thousands of years, with no one able to penetrate its secrets. They were farther along than anyone else had ever been. A week of failures was to be expected. Look how long it took to discover the location of the Chamber of the Moon after Naragenth gave me that name. Still, it was hard, with the receptacle of the power lying on the table in front of him. They'd had no idea where the Chamber of the Moon was located-all they had was the name. But this was something he could pick up and hold in his hand. They simply needed to understand how it worked.

"I'm at a loss as to what to suggest," said Kirin.

"We've found nothing in the library that can help us," said Rahmdil. "All knowledge of the kalaya mithran seems to have been lost."

Gerin closed his eyes and recalled the dreams sent by the Telchan. There had to be some clue in them, some critical piece of information he was overlooking. He replayed the vivid images in his mind, tried to hear the words exactly as they were spoken. There had been something about the origin of the kalaya mithran, that it had been a gift to the Matriarchs- A gift from another world.

That was it. The kalaya mithran had come from outside Osseria, outside their very world. Like the Dreamers, or the place where the Varsae Estrikavis resides.

But how did that help him? He pondered the question and could come up with no satisfying answers. He finally voiced his thoughts to the others.

"I don't see how knowing that the power came from another world helps us," said Abaru.

"Are there any spells that connect in some way to other worlds?" asked Gerin.

Kirin gave him a pointed stare. "Other than the Baryashin spells you've had some experience with, there are none. And even that was a connection to the world of the dead, not another inhabitable realm, which is what I think is implied here."

Sudden guilt welled in Gerin at the memory of his theft of the spells. He felt his face redden. "Point taken, Warden."

He took their leave for a time and went to the dining hall. Nyene was there, seated alone. She'd been training with the soldiers, who reported that she was exceptionally skilled with weapons.

She saw him and waved for him to join her.

"So you are the King of Khedesh!" she said. "I thought they were mocking me, but others have convinced me that it's true."

Well, it had to come out sometime, he thought. "Yes, that's true."

"You are a man of many layers and many mysteries, Gerin Atreyano. A wizard and king who desires to save the world. I would think you were mad had I not witnessed these things for myself."

"People will think I'm mad anyway. That's why I try to keep things quiet."

"Do you have a queen chosen? I will offer myself if you do not. We Threndish women are strong. I will bear you mighty children. And we are exceptional lovers, unlike your cold Khedeshian women. Like the healer, who has eyes only for her plants and herbs. If we were to marry, the kingdom might fall to ruin because you would never want to leave our bed!" She laughed and stared hard into his eyes.

"I'm flattered by your offer, Nyene, but my plans for a queen are still a closely kept secret."

"Ah, you flirt with me. Would you not enjoy loving this body?" She wriggled in her chair in an entertaining way. "We could fill a bath and-"

"Nyene, enough, please."

She laughed. "You find me impossible to resist, so you must silence me instead. I understand, King Gerin Atreyano." She stood. "Enjoy your meal. But you know you will be thinking about me. Men cannot resist."

He could not take his eyes from her as she left the dining hall. When he found himself wondering what she looked like undressed, he laughed quietly. d.a.m.n, she was right!

"I knew when you left here you were never going to return," said Marandra.

"I'm here now," said Hollin.

"You know what I mean. That you would never return here to live. To be with me." She tried not to sound petulant, wounded, but was unsure how well she succeeded.

He sighed. They were in her rooms, wrapped in towels. They'd just finished bathing, and the lavender scent of soap filled the air.

"Things had not been well between us for some time, Marandra. We both knew that."

"Yes, and sending you away from here to train Gerin was something we both needed."

"Why are you so sure I'm never going to return?"

"I can sense it in your demeanor. I knew it then but said nothing. Now I'm even more sure."

"There's no point in talking about something that has not yet come to pa.s.s. Should I leave?"

She went to him and put her arms around his shoulders. "No." She remembered quite well how poor their relationship had been when he'd left for Ailethon. She had been glad to see him go. But her strong sense that he was here almost out of obligation, out of duty, made her feel unwanted, and hurt her deeply. She felt a need to rea.s.sert herself into his life, to make him want her again. She knew it was a childish desire, but could not help herself.

And what Abaru had confided in her! That he feared Hollin was afflicted with tevosa. She'd kept a careful watch on him since hearing it, but so far had seen no signs of it herself. She prayed he did not have it.

"I don't want to quarrel," she said. "Let's go to bed. I won't ask about your plans again. In that, I can't command you, either as a woman or the Archmage."

He turned his head and kissed her. "I don't want to quarrel, either."

Together, they went into the bedroom.

The next morning, a servant stopped by Gerin's rooms and relayed a message from Hollin. "He asks that you bring your sword, the Scepter of the King, and the Staff of Naragenth to the Warden of the Archive's private library," said the slender young man.

Gerin understood the reason for Hollin's request. Since their arrival, they'd been so focused on the Ammon Ekril that they completely neglected Gerin's achievement in creating Nimnahal and the discovery of the Varsae Estrikavis.

He had not forgotten them, however. Since being granted the dreams of the Telchan, he'd been thinking about how the kalaya mithran functioned. He had some ideas, but not yet had time to test them.

That time had come.

"The G.o.ds preserve me, I could sense your sword when you were down the hallway," said Kirin when Gerin entered the room. The Archmage, First Siege, and a number of the High Ministers were present as well, making the room feel crowded and small.

Gerin placed the sheathed weapon on the table and allowed the wizards to examine it. He demonstrated how the blade's silvery light brightened when he held it, recognizing in some way the power that created it. They asked him many questions about its creation and what inspired him. He enjoyed the way they showed interest over something new; it never would have occurred to them to create a magical weapon. Their thinking, in some respects, was far too rigid to see value in such an exercise.

They spent even more time examining the staff. Gerin described the Presence that at times communicated with him by implanting mages in his mind of what it wanted him to do. The images were accompanied by a great deal of pain; clearly there was some flaw in the method of communication. Either Naragenth had never perfected it, or he himself was missing some crucial bit of information.

"And you've found no extant writings about the creation of the staff?" asked Rahmdil.

"Nothing. The whole of the Varsae Estrikavis hasn't been cataloged yet, but we've found very little written by Naragenth himself."

When they were done with their questions, Gerin opened the box that contained the Scepter of the King.

"I can't believe the entrance to the Varsae Estrikavis is here in front of my eyes!" said Rahmdil Khazuzili. He rubbed his hands together like a child about to receive an apple tart.

"Indeed," said the Archmage. She looked at Gerin. "It seems you are destined to be a finder of lost relics."

Gerin smiled at the compliment. This was something he had discovered on his own, reasoned out with a great deal of thought. He explained how he'd come to the conclusion that only an enormous influx of amber magic would unlock all of the protections Naragenth had placed in the scepter.

"I fully expected it to turn to ash," said Hollin. "I admit I had little faith he was right."

"I wasn't too sure myself," Gerin admitted. "But there was only one way to know."

"You took a terrible risk," said the First Siege, with more than a trace of disapproval.

"Sometimes risks are necessary to achieve a goal," Gerin said. "Timidity very rarely wins anything."

"Risk taking seems endemic to your character."

"Enough, Sevaisan," said the Archmage. "This is King Gerin's moment of triumph. For once, stop being disagreeable."