Magic's Promise

But he still had one more question. What was the connection between Tashir's family and this artifact at the heart of their palace?

That answer came immediately, and almost as words.

They were the Guardians.

And with that came a rush of knowledge that rocked him physically away from the stone. He opened his eyes to find himself pressed back against the wall, staring at the pillar of dark, volcanic basalt, with his mind seething with information.

He staggered out of the tiny room, carefully closing the door behind him, and made his unsteady way into the kitchen, bypassing the Great Hall entirely. He wanted to lie down, very badly. This was not the first time he'd queried a heart-stone, but it was the first time one had responded with such a flood of facts and memories. The heart-stones he'd merged with had been slow, old, and so peaceful that the answer you wanted might take candlemarks to drift within grasping. By contrast, this one practically flung responses at you before you finished the question.

He made the kitchen easily enough, and spent some time sticking up new candles and lighting them before wobbling back to his bed and falling facedown into the blankets.

He must have slept, because the next thing he knew, the others were clattering about the kitchen, there was a smell of frying bacon, and his stomach was declaring war on his backbone.

He rolled over on his back, stiffly, painfully, and Savil immediately knelt at his side and peered into his eyes. 'You were in shock-sleep,' she said. 'We couldn't wake you. I hope to hell you got something worth it.'

He took a deep breath, and discovered that his ribcage was sore, that all his muscles ached. He must have held them tensed for hours. He nodded. 'Answers,' he said-croaked, rather. 'I got answers. I got answers. Savil, that's a heart-stone in there. And it's awake!'

Her mouth had dropped open the moment he'd said the words 'heart-stone.' She shut it again with a snap. 'Eat first, and get something to drink. Then tell us.'

He sat up slowly, more than ever grateful for all the soft comforters to cushion his aching body from the stone floor of the kitchen. There was a fire in the hearth, and the other three seemed warm, but he was cold - cold.

Jervis shoved a plate into his hand, Tashir a cup of tea into the other. Savil and Jervis then pretended to deal with the remnants of their dinners. Tashir made no such pretense, hovering at Vanyel's side and watching every mouthful he took with impatience.

It was a little embarrassing, but Vanyel could not find it in his heart to blame him.

When he put down the empty plate, the other two gave up all pretensions and hovered around him.

'I'll try to make this short,' he said, feeling a little awkward with all their attention so fixed on him. 'This palace is situated on top of a place where several lines of magical energy meet and collect - we call that a 'node.' Nodes - the very powerful ones, that is - frequently aren't natural. They can be created artificially by a particular group of Adepts called the Tayledras - the 'Hawkbrothers.' ' At Jervis' and Tashir's look of blank nonrecognition, he added, 'They live in the Pelagirs. Most people have never heard of them. Fewer still will ever see them. Savil and I are among the few.'

Savil nodded. 'They're very secretive, and for a good reason. They do - almost as naturally as breathing - something damned few other mages are even capable of imagining. They manipulate the energy fields of the world around us.'

Vanyel interrupted her gently. 'They do two things, really; they drain magic left from the old wars away from lands that ordinary people are moving into, and they use that magic both to Heal those lands and to create sanctuaries for magical creatures that are displaced by the folk moving in. When they settle in a place, they generally create a node under it to use. When they leave that place they always - or so I always thought - deactivate and drain the node, and reroute the power-lines running to it.'

'That's what Starwind always told me,' Savil agreed, shifting her position so that she rested her chin on her knees.

'Well, they didn't this time,' Vanyel replied. 'The node is still fully active, and the heart-stone that is the physical link to it is still alive. That's what that pillar is, Tashir, the heart-stone. And that brings me to why.”

He licked his lips and closed his eyes for just a moment, to center himself. 'Some time when people first moved into this area, Tashir, one of the Tayledras remained behind, and selected your remote forefather to be the hereditary guardian of the heart-stone. He charged him to keep it safe, and to see that no one in Lineas ever dabbled in magic. That charge has been passed down to everyone with the blood of the Remoerdis Family - because that blood carries Mage- potential with it, and because that very wise ancestor of yours saw no reason to limit the guardianship to a favored few. The more guardians, he thought, the safer - and I think he was right. After all, this has gone on for generations without any inkling of the power here leaking outside of Lineas. That's the meaning of