Kellen hadn’t had much time for mirrors lately. There’d been none in the Wildwood, and he’d paid little attention to the small ones in the house in Sentarshadeen. Since then, well… he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a mirror.
Was this him?
He faced a stranger. A man… and one he wouldn’t want to face in battle, either. He towered over Cilarnen— even after several moonturns working in Stonehearth’s stables, you’d never mistake Cilarnen for anything but an Armethaliehan Mageborn. Kellen…
He turned away from the mirror.
“It’s certainly impressive,” he said.
“It will serve our needs,” Jermayan said with a dismissive shrug. “The rest of you have had all day to figure out this spell,” Kellen said, as more Wildmages began to arrive. “Now you’re going to have to explain it to me.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
WELL, AT HEART it seems to be most like a Healing Spell that you stop in the middle,” Idalia said. “And no actual Healing takes place. Everyone who uses magic has personal shields—with every gift comes an equal weakness. Wildmages can sense more of the world around them than non-Wildmages—without shields to block that out sometimes, we’d drown in all that information. Or be far more vulnerable to spells cast against us than non- Wildmages. Or just to the random influences of magical Otherfolk, even if they didn’t mean to affect us. You don’t have that problem as much as we do—”
“But then, I can’t cast spells as well,” Kellen finished.
“Right,” Idalia said, pleased that he understood the matter so easily and seemed willing—so far—to go along with her plans. “A natural balance. So we need to drop those shields, blend our powers… and act as one.”
She tried to sound confident and assured. She’d refused to accept Jermayan’s betrothal pendant for fear that it would establish a deeper form of just such a link as she was proposing to forge now—allowing him to see into her mind, and perhaps glimpse her unpaid price in its fullness.
But that had been before so many things. His Bond with Ancaladar, for one. The discovery of precisely how much trouble they were all in, for another. She could just hope that with so many minds joined, all focused upon their task, the secret of her unpaid Mageprice would remain unshared.
“Tonight we charge the mirror with our shared energy,” Idalia announced formally, once everyone had arrived. Even Kardus was there—though the Centaur Wildmage had no innate magic, nor any ability to cast spells, he was as much a Wildmage as any of them. “Making it possibly the largest keystone any of us has ever seen. Tomorrow, in the light—at noon—we will work the spell, and see what we can see of Armethalieh. In addition to his mirror, Kindolhinadetil has sent
“Not the Healers,” Wirance said. “They may be needed.”
“And not all the army,” Kellen said. “Even if they all volunteer. We could still be attacked.”
“Agreed,” Idalia said. “Kellen, you and Redhelwar make the disposition of the units that will not be involved. They’ll need to be well away from here when the spell is cast. And now, let’s get to work.”
—«♦»—
NORMALLY the charging of a keystone—even a big one—would have been simple, but for this, they needed a circle of protection as well. Idalia walked around outside the edge of the gathering, drawing a faint line on the snow floor of the pavilion with her walking staff. Then she returned to the center, and threw a handful of herbs on the waiting brazier.
Kellen felt the wall of protection go up around them, and a sudden sense of utter quiet descended upon him.
And more than that.
