Storm Warning

'We have to collect every bit of information we can,' An'desha insisted. 'We have to know every spot of disturbance in Valdemar. If we have a pattern, maybe we can deduce the next places that will be struck.'

'We—or, rather, the Tayledras—have another task before us first,' Firesong interjected grimly. 'Which is why I plan to send a mage-message to my parents as soon as we are done with this meeting. We must get the best shields ever created around each and every Heartstone, including the one here beneath the Palace. If that is not done, we, Valdemaran and Tayledras alike, could all find ourselves facing rogue Stones, and the storms will be immaterial for we will already be dead.'

An'desha blinked in surprise as both Elspeth and Darkwind blanched. He had not thought there was anything that could rattle those two.

'Then Darkwind and I—all the Herald-Mages—had better get to work right now,' Elspeth said, pushing away from the table and standing up. 'Anything else can wait.'

'I will help you, if you like,' Ulrich offered. 'I believe that I may know some shielding techniques you do not.'

'We ssshall asss well,' Treyvan said, with a dry chuckle. 'Afterrr all, it isss ourrr tailsss in jeoparrrdy, too!'

'Shall—' An'desha began to add his offer to theirs, but Elspeth and Firesong both shook their heads.

'I know that you dread another walk through those memories, ke'chara,' Firesong said quietly, 'but if there is any more information in them, I wish you would look for it.'

'I will be sssending a messsage to k'Lessshya, forrr accurrrate copiesss of the chrrroniclesss,' Hydona told them. 'Therrre may be morrre anssswerrrsss therrre.'

'Huh. Rris might even have something to add. But he's so selfish with his stories!' Darkwind raised an eyebrow as a chuckle of nervous laughter met his comment. 'Well, he is a kyree historian—there might be an oral tradition about this among the kyree.'

'True enough,' Prince Daren said as he stood up, smoothing his white uniform in a gesture of habit. 'Well, I think we have wrung the last drop of water from this for now. I will go report to Selenay; I leave you to your various tasks.'

He paused for a moment before leaving, as his troubled eyes met each of theirs in turn. An'desha could not sustain that contact for long; he felt somehow guilty about all of this, as if he were somehow the cause of it.

'As unpleasant as my task will be, giving Selenay ill news,' Daren said at last, 'I do not envy any of you your jobs.. For once, I am glad I am no mage. You must all feel like oarsmen trying to outrun a wave you cannot stop.'

With that, he took himself out, and the rest of them followed his example. An'desha wasn't certain how the others felt, but so far as he was concerned, Prince Daren had summed up the entire situation far too accurately.

Despite Prince Daren's gloomy words, Karal was not about to give up the fight before he had even started! Surely there was something they could do about this! Even if they couldn't stop the storm itself, well, people built houses against storms all the time—why couldn't they build shelters against this one?

They survived back then, or we wouldn't be here now. What we need is more information. The more we know, the better we'll be able to prepare.

Maybe he was no mage, but he did know exactly where to go to find people who were absolutely, precisely ideal for the task of gathering and categorizing information.

As Ulrich followed Elspeth, Darkwind, and the gryphons to some mysterious room in the cellars of the Palace, he went off in a different direction entirely.

The clouds of this afternoon had thickened, and the air smelled damp, so he stopped just long enough to fetch a cloak from his room before heading out the side door to the little postern gate in the Palace walls that Natoli had shown him. The Guard there tonight wasn't one he knew, but it didn't much matter; most of the Guards probably knew how to get to any tavern in Haven.

His supposition wasn't wrong; the Guard was only too happy to give him exact directions to the Compass Rose, directions that matched very well with his own hazy memory of the way Natoli had led him the first time.

By the time the Guard was satisfied that he had the directions straight, thunder rumbled off in the far distance, and he thought he glimpsed a flash of lightning against the dark night sky. He set off down the street just as the first few fat drops of rain fell onto the cobblestones in front of him with audible splats.