concealed the magical emanations that are usually a natural part of both spells and artifacts of this sort. However, I will need to place a finishing charm on it once I depart.'
'But they will still be able to detect the people here in this place,' Umbeso interrupted again.
'Enough, Umbeso,' Aniolon said.
'His questions are reasonable, Gruanthe. I will answer them,' Gerinvioch said. 'I have concealed this area and all in it from detection of any sort.'
'They could simply stumble into the town. If it is invisible, they may think they are simply proceeding through the desert,' Umbeso put in.
Aniolon saw the townspeople looking between Umbeso and Gerinvioch and suddenly felt very unnecessary. It was a familiar feeling and not one he enjoyed.
'The barrier will not allow them passage,' the wyrm replied, locking eyes with Umbeso.
'Yet if anyone from inside the town,' Umbeso said waving his hand over the gathered crowd, 'should leave the town, this barrier will allow them to enter once again?'
Aniolon broke in before the wyrm could respond. 'Silence, Umbeso! We have an arrangement with Gerinvioch. It is settled,' he said, glaring at the older man.
Gerinvioch looked at Umbeso and the man took a step back. 'You are wise to surround yourself with capable advisors, Gruanthe,' the blue said.
Aniolon turned to face his town's winged salvation once again. 'Yes. Very well. Thank you for your assistance, Gerinvioch,' he said, dismissing the dragon's comment. 'I will contact you when we have your first payment,' Aniolon said, hoping his informal tone did not distress the great wyrm, but knowing the comforting effect it would have on his followers.
Gerinvioch smiled, his eyes shifting from their locked position on Umbeso to rest on Aniolon. 'Enjoy the freedom you covet so dearly,' the dragon said. He then leaned in to Aniolon and spoke in as hushed a tone as a creature so enormous may. 'Continue to enjoy the power, Gruanthe,' he said, a grin slowly overtaking his mouth. 'I certainly shall.'
Gerinvioch spread his batlike wings and gave a mighty flap. Coming to a hover some forty feet off the ground he made a final magical gesture and bellowed a last arcane phrase. Aniolon raised an eyebrow and watched the great wyrm speed away.
Aniolon heard a wave of gasps erupt from the gathered citizens and turned to see the inert artifact on the ground begin to crackle to life. Orange lights surged inside it drawing pulsing, racing lights that shone through its dull exterior. It rose from the ground, levitating slowly, coming to a resting position nearly sixty feet off the ground and began to spin in place.
The sky momentarily flashed bright orange, like a burst of sunlight, and everything seemed as it had been, except for the dull whir of the spinning object hovering overhead.
Aniolon turned to look upon his people. 'We are saved!'
Cheers rose tentatively from the crowd as everyone gathered closer to the object that would save them. Aniolon barked orders for the celebratory feast to be prepared and everyone scattered to do their part. It would be quite a celebration and they had much to be happy for. Indeed, there was much to celebrate, Aniolon thought. His people would throw a victory celebration in his name. Aniolon smiled. His people.
The next day, Aniolon awoke to shouts and screams. He left his home and jogged south. The hedonistic celebration had endured for many, many hours. Remnants of food and drink were strewn all about. People were passed out everywhere, some in piles of spent carnality. Aniolon found a crowd of frenzied people and pushed through the gasping throngs to find a young man screaming, being held upright by two other men. Streams of air poured from the young man's right hand as he held it before himself.
'I can't stop it!' the younger man being restrained cried, his voice cracking. 'I can't stop the spell! I was using a simple wind gust to clean the refuse from the streets, and now I cannot stop it!'
Aniolon noticed a woman convulsing slightly as she let loose a small scream.
'I tried to dispel his magic and-' she stopped abruptly, convulsing again.
With the eyes of every person witnessing the spectacle turned on him, Aniolon could only stare at the convulsing woman. Her face seemed to be wrinkling in waves before him. It was as if a ripple was moving across her stern features.
'Someone stop this! What's causing it?' Aniolon heard someone shout. Questions echoed from all around the crowd.
Umbeso stepped through the crowd to stand directly in front of Aniolon. 'The boy may simply be inexperienced. She, however,' the man said, indicating the spasming woman behind him, 'is not. There is something wrong here, Aniolon. Many of us cast spells as simple as these daily here. These particular spells are two very different kinds as well. It surely is not the magic itself.'
The crowd was muttering amongst themselves but Aniolon could not hear. It could not be the magic, he knew. He stared into the eyes of his former competitor. The man was calm, his lips pursed as if waiting for an answer to a question he had asked.
'What is it?' Aniolon asked quietly. He wanted to scream at the man but could find no voice to do so. This was no time to play the role of teacher.
'Think, Ahiolon! What has changed?' the man asked, looking impatient.
'Tell me!' Aniolon cried.
Before the man could respond, a shrill scream rose above the din of befuddlement in the crowd. Aniolon turned to see a nude woman running toward the crowd, her auburn tresses bouncing around her shoulders. The crowd parted to admit her to the center.
'Daron…' the woman panted the name of a well-respected priest among the villagers. 'Daron's dying!'
'Speak, child,' Umbeso said calmly.
'Daron was praying to Sharess for…' she paused, looking flushed. 'Praying for a spell to… enhance our pleasure in our…' she paused again, 'activities this morning.'
Umbeso nodded for her to continue.
'In the middle of his reverie, he collapsed. He's not breathing!' she said.
Umbeso turned to Aniolon and asked, 'Now divine magic as well?'
Without another word, Aniolon pushed through the crowd and dashed to the site of the Evise Jhontil floating in the town square. Aniolon did not want his guess to be correct, but it was the only thing that had changed. The artifact's octagonal shape pulsed more brightly and was spinning faster than before.
Aniolon stared on in silence, hypnotized by the moment and the racing orange light that so entranced him. He felt a hand on his shoulder.
'It must be the Jhontil. Do you agree?' Umbeso asked.
Aniolon nodded weakly. 'What do we do?'
'You are our leader, Aniolon. You tell us,' Umbeso said with a grin.
'Damn you to the Hells! Tell me!' Aniolon said as he spun to face the man. 'This is not the time.'
The man took a step back and stared hard at his leader. 'You are right, of course. We need to discuss this with all those learned of the Weave.'
A short while later, in his home, Aniolon met with the most skilled arcanists in the town.
'As we can all see, something, presumably the artifact, forces the caster of any spell to perpetuate the spell infinitely,' said an old man named Sohj, who had instructed Aniolon some years before.
Murmurs wafted around the room. Aniolon hushed them, intent on hearing the man.
'Eventually any spell will consume the caster,' Sohj continued, pointing to the dead young man who had attempted to cleanse the street and the still-convulsing older woman in the corner of the room. 'There have been four others so far. The priest Daron, two young apprentices who attempted to combine their talents to dispel the effect, and Elder Grashtio. The old fool took it upon himself to rid of us the Evise Jhontil. Each attempt has only made the damned thing spin more quickly and glow more brightly.'
'Then we must leave this place,' Umbeso said.
'No!' Aniolon shouted.
'Gruanthe, we must leave. There are hundreds of us here and magic sustains us by providing food, water, even shelter. Without it, we will die and now the magic itself will kill us!' Umbeso replied.
Aniolon looked around the room. He saw assent in every pair of eyes. He simply nodded and listened for the
