Wedding Bells, Magic Spells (23 page)

Cuinn Aviniel put calibrating a rift to Timurus aside in favor of doing what he had told me and Mychael that a mirror mage would have to be insane to try—opening an unlinked mirror.

To get the Majafan sandworms into the Void, we couldn’t link two mirrors. That would form a tunnel, and that would deny the vast majority of the Rak’kari the feast we’d prepared for them. I hadn’t known many mirror mages, but those whom I had known and heard about would have been too arrogant to accept help opening a mirror, linked or unlinked. Thankfully, Cuinn wasn’t most mirror mages; he had half a dozen colleagues in his lab to help with the heavy lifting, or in this case, the heavy holding. Cuinn wouldn’t be merely opening an unlinked mirror; he had to ward it to prevent any Rak’kari from coming through, or any sandworms from coming back. Both outcomes would be extremely undesirable.

As to how we were going to see the results of our hopefully successful experiment, we couldn’t simply open a mirror or a rift and look inside. You had to step through to see through. Tam had done that once; neither he nor anyone else was doing that again. And we couldn’t simply strap a spy gem to a sandworm. We needed to be able to get the spy gem back, and we really wanted to do it without a starving Rak’kari attached.

We were going with the cable method, a double-strength one this time. Instead of Tam attached to the end, Cuinn had rigged up a sturdy mount for the spy gem, kind of like a steel frame with the gem inside. That way, the gem could record from all directions, and give us a good look at the Rak’kari hopefully enjoying their meal. The vortex that would be formed when the unlinked mirror was opened would take care of sucking the cable and spy gem inside. Getting it out could be a challenge, but that was one of the reasons why we had plenty of armored-gloved Guardians standing by.

As a test, half a dozen sandworms were tossed into the Void along with a spy gem attached to a cable to record what happened. The results were intensely gratifying. The Rak’kari raced to get to the sandworms, they drank their insides, and then those that had consumed the tasty morsels went boom.

After the successful test run, some cryptozoology faculty and grad students delivered six large, shoulder-high crates. I could see through the wooden slats what was squirming inside, and thought about offering to help ward that mirror. We did
not
want any of those things coming back through that mirror once they were dumped inside.

While I wasn’t keen to be around while any of the above was happening, my newly discovered special skill set required me to be. Since much of my new power was unknown, I didn’t know how I’d be able to help, but if the situation suddenly went to the Lower Hells in a handbasket—which had been the only direction situations had gone lately—I strongly suspected my magic would be there when or if I needed it. While I didn’t like where the magic was probably coming from, I had to admit I was glad it was there if needed. I mean, how bad could something be that kept you alive?

One thing definitely made me feel better—twenty things, actually. Mychael, Vegard, and eighteen other Guardians. The boys would have my back. Though at the moment, I had theirs. Mychael didn’t want me anywhere near that mirror when Cuinn opened it, so my view was presently through the space between Mychael and Vegard’s broad shoulders. That didn’t bother me. Should the situation go to crap, I had no doubt of my ability to shove them out of my way, especially if anything, be it spider or worm, attacked either one of them.

Tam and Imala were at the talks and couldn’t be here, but I’d promised to tell them all the gory details of Rak’kari death and destruction later.

Cuinn and company had the largest mirror in his lab warmed up and in stand-by mode, meaning it was glowing and pulsing at a speed that was disturbingly similar to a heartbeat. At least the color wasn’t red, more of a pale blue light.

I’d had enough of red glows to last me a lifetime—a normal one, not what my father had endured.

Four Guardians pushed the first crate up to the mirror, stopping less than a foot from the pulsing surface. Two backed away, and the other two stood to the side of the crate, but outside of the mirror’s frame, ready to slide open the crate’s wooden door.

Cuinn looked to Mychael. “Are we ready?”

“Whenever you are.”

The elf mage turned to face the mirror, about to do what he’d said a mirror mage would have to be nuts to attempt. His next words were for his four colleagues. “Ladies and gentlemen, you know what to do.”

One of the men laughed nervously. “Piss my robes?”

“You can do whatever you want
after
we serve lunch.” Cuinn fully extended his arms, fingers spread wide and glowing with what started as blue, then intensified as a white so bright I couldn’t look directly at it. “Now.”

That was it. No shouted commands, just one word. And at that one word, the three men and two women opened an unlinked mirror, something that simply wasn’t done because of the danger. For us, right here and right now, the danger was greater if we didn’t do it.

The two Guardians pulled the first crate’s wooden sliding door aside, and the vortex created with the formation of the unlinked mirror did the rest, sucking the contents of a shoulder-high crate full of Majafan sandworms into the Void, then taking the empty crate along with it.

I wasn’t sure they meant for that to happen, but no one was opposed to a flying crate smashing a spider or three.

Crate after crate was pushed into position, opened, and the contents sucked into the Void. Cuinn and his mirror mage colleagues held that huge mirror under perfect control the entire time. Brows were sweating, arm and hand muscles tensing, and breathing was growing harsh, but the men and women of the dimensional studies department held their own.

Between the first and second crates, the spy gem secured to a steel cable was thrown in. When the last crate had been emptied, Cuinn and his friends held the mirror open for another minute while the Guardians reeled in the cable with the spy gem attached—and a Rak’kari thankfully not attached. Their work done, Cuinn and company closed the mirror, secured it, and promptly collapsed into the closest chairs.

We had a large crystal ball in place and ready for viewing. When the spy gem was hooked up…I could describe what I saw, but suffice it to say that the sandworms performed as promised. The Rak’kari found them irresistible, scuttling and surging over one another in their eagerness to reach the bounty first. After the first couple of dozen spiders exploded in splats of black blood and viscera. Mychael said he’d need to look back in later; but for now, we’d let the Rak’kari dine in peace—and then explode into pieces.

Mychael wasn’t anywhere near ready to declare the Void
clear of Rak’kari and safe for travel. That would have to wait until the sandworms had done their work, and after we’d looked into the Void again and didn’t find it full of a new Rak’kari infestation. Tam had said that what we’d seen in the Void had been the result of years of Khrynsani work. Now we could only hope that they hadn’t been overachievers and held a couple of hundred Rak’kari back just in case their first infestation hadn’t gone as planned.

The peace talks were on a brief break. From what I could see, they needed it. I imagined that most of the delegates weren’t exactly used to seeing hundreds of giant spiders and the people they’d consumed. That experience was a first time for me as well, but during the past few months I’d seen many things that I’d never seen before and really hoped to never see again. Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen any of those things again; I was getting a dose of new horrors.

I was standing just outside of the two massive doors leading into the Seat of Twelve’s place of judgment. Even though Justinius had done a fine job cleaning the traitors out of the Seat of Twelve and had succeeded in talking Garadin, Tarsilia, and my father into serving as three of the new Twelve, I still had no desire to set foot in there again. Still, with a new Twelve being assembled, including the goblins possibly being represented by A’Zahra Nuru and Kesyn Badru, I’d have to change the way I thought about this place. Instead of a place of judgment, it’d be more like the Hall of Happiness and Rational Thought.

Isibel saw me and came out into the hall. From her expression, I’d better hold off on that renaming. She wasn’t happy, and chances were good that there hadn’t been any kind of rational thought going on during the past few hours. No rational speech, either.

“Are we still going out tonight?” she asked.

“That’s the plan.”

“Good.”

“Need it?”

“Desperately.”

Sorry, Tarsilia and Sora, I thought. I would not be asking Edythe to go with us. Isibel did not need that. If they asked why, I’d tell them it was for the good of peace in the Seven Kingdoms. Isibel was the elven ambassador, and the elven ambassador needed to unwind. She couldn’t do that under the disapproving looks of her mother.

“Anything good happening?” I asked.

“The only two delegations getting along are the elves and goblins. Most of the other delegations get along with us, but not each other.”

I glanced past her into the chamber. Aeron Corantine looked even less happy than he had last time it’d been my misfortune to see him. Plus, he was one of those people who perpetually looked to be up to no good. Every person who had ever given me that impression had proven me right.

“Has anyone punched Aeron Corantine yet?”

“No, but during the last break, the Myloran ambassador was expressing a most fervent desire to toss him in the harbor.”

“I’ve heard he can’t swim.”

“I believe that was the point.” Isibel blew out her breath in an exasperated sigh. “Markus wants to join the talks tomorrow. At least for a while.”

“What does Dalis have to say about that?”

“She said that she’ll be coming with him, and she defies anyone to attempt to prevent her.”

Cuinn had wanted to see Rak’kari eat sandworms and explode. Isibel looked like she wanted to see Aeron Corantine try to have Dalis tossed out of the talks. Her delicate jaw was clenched, and so were the dainty fists by her side. The Nebian ambassador didn’t know it yet, but he would rather be tossed in the harbor by the Mylorans than get what Dalis would be dishing out if he tried to separate her from her patient.

“Mago and I have been meeting with Markus every evening,” Isibel was saying while glaring at the Nebian, “and he has been giving us invaluable advice, but…”

“I know. There’s just no substitution for him being there,” I said. “Mago’s amazing at reading people, but Markus is the master. Especially since he knows all of the delegates personally.” He had something else Mago and Isibel did not—decades of experience doing just this. Mago knew only too well that a person could say one thing and mean another. Markus knew the person, too.

Imala Kalis spotted me and came over to join us.

Tam was in heated debate with the Caesolian ambassador. The Caesolian was a head shorter than Tam, but he wasn’t letting that stop him. Dakarai Enric stood nearby, scowling.

That scene wasn’t the most shocking thing I’d seen today, but it came close.

“The Caesolian ambassador found his spine?” I asked Imala once she was close enough. I had the sudden image of a tiny lap dog antagonizing a very angry werehound. This could get messy, and fast. Though at least it’d be over quickly, except for the cleanup.

She glanced back at the scene. “And Tam’s about to rip it out for him.”

“It looks like Dakarai wants to help. Two days ago the Caesolian wouldn’t stand on the same side of the room as Tam, and now he’s in his face. Should we stop him from committing suicide by Tam?”

“I’m not going to stop him,” Imala said in the Caesolian’s general direction. “He deserves whatever he gets.” She took a deep breath to calm herself. It didn’t work. “It’s progress, but not the kind we’d hoped to have. As you can see, we are all growing increasingly frustrated.”

“Did finding out about the spiders in the Void do this much damage?”

“It certainly didn’t help,” Isibel said. “All of the delegates knew why they were coming here, and they agreed that it needed to be done—no one needed to have a weapon like the Saghred. But almost as soon as they got here, it’s as if they’ve changed their minds. It’s not merely the Rak’kari and the possibility of the Khrynsani being behind it or something larger. It’s as if every kingdom believes every other kingdom is out to get them. Paranoia is running rampant around here.”

“And Tam does look ready to snap,” I noted. “Getting a bunch of humans to cooperate and sign a piece of paper is frustrating, but it’s nowhere near the level of stress Tam wakes up to every day. This isn’t like him at all. And it certainly isn’t like Dakarai. I’ve never seen him angry.”

Imala stood utterly still. Only her eyes moved—quickly taking in everyone in the room, darting from delegate to delegate.

I froze, too. Something was wrong. Imala knew what it was. I didn’t. And considering how intent the little goblin woman was, I didn’t think I was going to like it when I found out.

“What is it?” I said without moving my lips.

“You said it yourself—the people we know are behaving uncharacteristically, and those we don’t know aren’t acting as they should.” She hissed a curse in Goblin. “I may have been affected as well. As an agent, I’m trained to pick up on tampering; yet I didn’t see what was right before my eyes until you pointed it out.”

“Tampered?”

“With the delegates’ minds. Either by spell or drug. Tam would have detected a spell long before it got this far. That means we’re being drugged.”

“How could that happen?” I raised my hands defensively. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but are you sure you’re not just tired?”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

*

Tarsilia Rivalin was an expert on poisons, drugs, and other
mind- or mood-altering substances. Basically anything that could be concocted to heal or harm, she knew all about it.

Imala probably knew nearly as much as Tarsilia did about the drugs and poisons, but since she was one of the victims, she yielded that part of the investigation to Tarsilia. Still, it didn’t mean she wasn’t looking over Tarsilia’s shoulder in the hastily assembled lab Justinius had ordered set up for her.