Storm Warning

'...so you see,' Master Levy said, with a certain grim satisfaction, 'by using this mathematical model, I was able to predict the size and location of all of the areas of disturbance from this last wave. We will have parties out in the countryside verifying my predictions, of course, but the ones we were able to reach before darkness fell were all where I predicted they would be and the size I expected they would be.'

'So these storms are really waves; they act like real waves?' Elspeth asked, weariness warring with the need to understand, both emotions mirrored in the set of her mouth and the tense lines around her eyes. Darkwind looked over her shoulder at the charts and maps, his brow creased with exhaustion and anxiety.

'In many ways,' Master Levy told her and raised a sardonic eyebrow. 'I take it that I have convinced you?'

'Just by virtue of the animal you found. I've seen the creatures in the Uncleansed Lands for myself,' she replied. 'This rabbit-thing you found sounds much too like them for me to disbelieve you.'

'And I must agree, at least that the waves are growing stronger, not weaker,' Firesong said with extreme reluctance. 'They must be growing stronger to have had the effect of warping an animal in such a manner. But— still—mathematical models? Magic does not work that way!'

To Karal's surprise, the look that Master Levy bestowed on Firesong was one of understanding and sympathy. 'Sir, I comprehend your feelings. Yours is an intuitive nature, and your understanding so deep that you intuit the formulas and laws. So must an artist feel when he picks up a shell, paints a sunflower or creates an image of a snowstorm—yet I can reproduce that sunflower in precise mathematical terms, and every snowflake is a mathematically exact shape. If I show you in such a way that you can understand me, will you believe that your magic does answer to predictable laws?'

Numbly, Firesong nodded. Master Levy had a force of personality—when he cared to exert it—that was easily the equal of Firesong's. This must have been a rare experience for the Hawkbrother Adept, to find someone who was his equal in personality and intellect.

'Look. This was your original Cataclysm,' Master Levy said, pulling out a clean sheet of paper and a pen and drawing concentric circles on it. Karal marveled at that—there were not many people in his experience who could draw an even circle without the use of tools. Master Levy must be something of an artist in his own right.

'There were two centers of disruption,' the mathematician continued. 'One here, where the Dhorisha Plains are now, and one here, where Lake Evendim is. The force spread outward, in waves—each of these circles represents the apex of the wave—you see where they meet and touch as they spread outward? That is where your points of extreme disturbance are, where the apexes of two waves meet.'

'So why were the areas of change so great in the original Cataclysm?' Firesong asked stubbornly. 'They weren't little circles of devastation, they were huge swaths, reaching from Lake Evendim to beyond where the eastern border of Hardorn is now!'

Master Levy smiled patiently. 'The very first waves had a period—a 'width,' if you will—that was enormous— roughly the equivalent of several countries. In areas of the apex of the wave, disturbance was powerful enough that there was no need for waves to interfere with each other to distort the real world, the wave itself was what did the initial damage, and created what we call the Pelagir Hills and what you call the Uncleansed Lands—and yet, entire nations who happened to be in the trough of the wave remained relatively unscathed. I suspect that you would find that where the apexes of the first two great waves met, you would find areas of such damage that nothing lived through it.'

Firesong bit his lip, as if Master Levy had triggered a memory of something, but he remained silent.

'Now—this is another guess, but I believe that the first wave of shock, the one from the initial destruction of the two centers, was followed by waves of successively shorter period and lesser strength.' He cocked his head at Firesong, as if-to ask if Firesong understood.

'Perhaps—' Firesong murmured reluctantly.

Master Levy flashed Karal a conspiratorial glance. 'Now look; I am drawing the circles closer together, for a reason. The next waves had a period that was shorter, and the next, shorter still. The areas of overlap were correspondingly more frequent, and smaller, until the last of the waves of disturbance passed. As the waves grew weaker, and the period smaller, the disruptions were confined to the places where the wave-apexes intersected. That is why we are finding little circles of disturbance at regular intervals; the intervals represent a combination of the period of the two sets of waves. And the periods presumably lessen due to effects analogous to how the troughs of waves in deep water reduce when they 'drag' the floor of the body of water. Expenditure of energy.'

Firesong studied the rough diagram and nodded slowly, then began twisting a lock of his long silver hair in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture.

Firesong! Nervous! The sun will surely rise in the west tomorrow!

'Now, if what I believe turns out to be the truth, these waves of disturbance are returning through time, in a mirror image of how they occurred in the first place.' Master Levy waited, like the teacher he was, for someone to volunteer the next piece of the puzzle.

'Do you mean that they are beginning small and weak, and will end enormous and enormously powerful?' Darkwind hazarded.