regarded the spring warily, but the water remained still and clear, with no trace of the fire and turmoil of his vision.
He felt a mixture of exhaustion and relief, as if somehow he'd passed a test he hadn't known he'd been set. He believed Idalia, and Lycaelon had also been telling a kind of truth. Studying the Wild Magic destroyed a kind of defense against the Demons, because once you started to think for yourself, who knew what you might decide to think about? But Lycaelon knew nothing about what the Wild Magic was—rather less than Kellen actually knew about Demons, really. Everything Kellen had read in The Book of Moon, The Book of Stars, and The Book of Sun; everything he'd done with his own mixed-up spells; everything he'd seen Idalia do; all pointed to it only being able to be used for good. Unlike the mechanistic High Magick, as far as he could tell, the Wild Magic was self-aware, and that awareness was benevolent. He wasn't Tainted, and neither was Idalia.
So as long as you're really doing Wild Magic, you're okay, I guess.
Until you stop.
And if there aren't three other Books out there…
Idalia came back with her own leaf and knelt beside Kellen.
'Wish me luck, little brother,' she said, patting him on the knee.
The spell was swiftly cast, and to Kellen's intense relief, the image that formed was a familiar one: the Council chamber in Armethalieh. He heard Idalia release a pent-up breath, and guessed she'd been a little worried as well.
But their relief was short-lived.
THE full Council was in session: thirteen High Mages seated at the curving judicial bench of black marble twice the height of a tall man, with Lycaelon Tavadon at their center on his black throne.
'Volpiril—Meron—Perizel—Lorins—Breulin—' Idalia named them all softly, going around the half circle.
Mage Breulin was speaking.
'We have had great success in our Northern and Southern Expansions, which, as you know, have been a priority over the past several moonturns. I am now pleased to report that our borders are clean and secure from the High Peaks in the north to the Arid Lands in the south, and we have brought several more of the unaligned villages previously outside our borders under Armethaliehan rule, to a concomitant increase in taxes and revenues. Their integration is proceeding smoothly, and we have been sending City Lawspeakers out to ride a regular circuit to make sure that all Enforcement Proclamations are read out on a timely basis. The Captain of the City Militia has requested permission to recruit and form five new units from the local villages in order to be able to support the Law-speakers.'
The motion was quickly passed, after a short discussion about recruitment policy, and the necessity of sending a Mage with the Militia to take care of any unusual problems right on the spot.
Then Lycaelon rose to speak.
'My fellow Mages. Mage Breulin's news is welcome indeed, for how can the City flourish when our enemies are free to gather outside our walls and plot our downfall? Yet I worry that we concern ourselves with the lesser danger and ignore the greater. While we have been occupied with the admittedly necessary purification of our new northern and southern territories, I have sent my agents westward, and discovered that many who do not wish to accept our wise and enlightened rule are massing there. The Western Hills contain a number of flourishing villages, not only of humans, but cesspits where humans and talking beasts congregate together in direct opposition to the wise teachings of the Eternal Light.'
Several of the Council Mages frowned; Breulin stroked his beard, and leaned over to mutter something to the Mage at his right.
Lycaelon nodded approvingly when he saw the frowns. 'As you know, our Hunt failed, which could only have happened if the most evil of forces had intervened. The Outlaw made his escape into the west, armed not only with the abomination of his dark magic, but with the deepest secrets of our City. Even now he may be leading innocent humans into error, as well as sharing our secrets with the cunning Other Races with which the Western Hills abound, who will seek our City's downfall and the destruction of the Light for no more reason than that they exist.'
'Surely not!' one of the others exclaimed, though not as if he objected, but as if he was horrified.
Lycaelon bowed his head in a fine imitation of sorrow, but from their vantage, Kellen saw he was hiding a smirk. 'Our way is hard,' the Arch-Mage said, mournfully. 'Our resources are few. We are one city, alone, without allies, in the face of the teeming bestial hordes of Darkness and Error. But the Light defends us, and our course is clear: In the name of Humanity, for the sake of our lost and imperiled brethren, we must claim all of the Western Hills for Armethalieh and the Light—extend our borders once again, no matter the cost to ourselves, and send forth a Scouring Hunt to purge those lands of the creatures that would usurp Man's rightful place in the world!'
There was a moment of silence, then the rest of the Council was on its feet, cheering Lycaelon as the vision slowly faded.
