“Which means it would work best of all if somebody familiar with the City cast it,” Kellen finished. “Because they’d already have some idea of what they were seeing, and wouldn’t have to learn as much. That means you, me, or Cilarnen.”
“That means me,” Idalia corrected. “Cilarnen’s not a Wildmage, and you’re a Knight-Mage. I’d have the best chance of success—if I had the power to cast it.”
“What about using a keystone?” Kellen said. “Like before?”
Idalia shook her head firmly. “We thought of that, and Drelech cast the talking stones to see if that would work. It needs to be a living source.”
As the platters were cleared away, the discussion returned, once more, to the spell. Kellen could tell that the Wildmages were now covering ground they had covered before, hoping for a solution.
He could see Cilarnen and Kardus talking quietly between themselves. Jermayan was watching them alertly, probably able to hear what was being said.
At last Cilarnen—who had obviously needed to be persuaded of something—made his way into the middle of the lodge and got to his feet.
The discussion stopped.
“I am unfamiliar with your… magic,” he began hesitantly. “And I do not mean to offend. But Kardus tells me I must ask. Why do you not simply link your magic as the High Mages do?”
Kellen had rarely had the pleasure—if that was the word—of seeing his sister so completely nonplussed.
“Sit down over here,” she said. “Explain.”
Cilarnen darted an agonized glance at Kellen. Kellen did his best to look encouraging.
Cilarnen came and sat down in front of Idalia, doing his best to keep a respectable distance between them.
“In Armathalieh,” Cilarnen said, obviously searching for just the right words, “the High Mages work together, sharing their power. It is part of every Mage’s training to learn to meld the power each holds into a greater whole, for the good of the City. I had thought…” he faltered to a stop.
But it was something Wildmages never learned—never needed to learn. Because Wildmages were usually solitary creatures, who drew their power from themselves, from willing donors, and from paying their Mageprices.
“It’s true,” Kellen said, shrugging. “Anigrel told me. They may steal the citizens’ personal power with the Talismans and use that instead of their own, but they still share the power among themselves when they do a Working. Somehow.”
“Is that—” Cilarnen began, staring at Kellen.
Idalia interrupted him. “Do you know how this is done, Cilarnen? Can you tell me?”
“I know how to do it,” Cilarnen said slowly. “I can tell you what the High Mages do—but I cannot do it with you! Not with a Wildmage!” His voice held unfeigned horror.
“I promise you, Cilarnen, if we figure this out, I will only practice on another Wildmage,” Idalia said gently. “Jermayan, would Ancaladar consent to be a part of such a… sharing?”
“I do not know,” Jermayan said. His voice was troubled. “First we must see if such a thing can be learned.”
—«♦»—
BUT before even that could be attempted, it had to be explained—and there they nearly came to grief, for Cilarnen was a High Mage of the Golden City… and High Magick and Wildmagery were nothing alike.
“Prayers to the Light? Fasting? Proper incense? Huntsman strike me if I do any such thing,” a Wildmage named Kerleu growled, a few moments into Cilarnen’s explanation.
“Nor am I going to wave my hands and babble to empty air like a mad thing,” Cilarnen muttered under his breath.
“Patience, friends,” Wirance said, his hands out in a placating gesture before things could grow more heated.
