breathed.
Smiling, Hoskiko looked knowingly at Faxon, then back at Tristan. “Tell us,” she said.
“When the Heretics split away to practice only the Vagaries, they forever abandoned the Vigors-the craft’s side that provides its energy and light. It is being in this perpetual state of ensured ‘darkness’ and ‘cold’ that causes the Vagaries practitioners to go mad. Just as dark and light are the natural order of the world, without the Vigors, chaos is the craft’s natural state. That chaos soon affects the Heretics’ minds.”
“Exactly,” Hoskiko answered. “They shun the light, warmth, and balance that the Vigors would ordinarily bring. Madness soon follows. As their minds spiral downward, they stop caring about anything else. It is this concept that lent the craft sides their names. The ‘Vigors’ speak of energy and light; they are the ‘vigorous’ side. The Vagaries refers to the darkness, chaos, and confusion that follow, should one abandon the light.”
“But how does this knowledge help me broker a peace among you?” Tristan asked.
“Before you can help do that, you must first return to Eutracia,” Hoskiko answered, “for two important reasons.”
Tristan listened as Faxon explained the plan that Serena was carrying out. It was heinous, barbaric. Armed with this understanding, Tristan could easily see how Serena’s success might easily destroy the Vigors, and all that the Conclave held dear. Worse, if the Conclave hadn’t already attacked the Citadel, they soon would. His friends would unknowingly be sailing into a death trap. He had to get home as fast as possible.
As he thought about the danger the Conclave was heading into, Tristan closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, Hoskiko’s expression was compassionate and concerned.
“If you and the Conclave can defeat this final threat to your side of the world, your wizards must then alter your blood signature,” she said. “We ask that you then return to us.”
“Change my signature in what way?” he asked.
“It must be forced leftward,” Faxon answered, “toward the Vagaries. As you know, your wizards and sorceresses have recently acquired that power. Once your signature shows no appreciable lean in either direction, you must return to us through the azure pass. Because your blood has not been classically trained, there is little worry that you will be attracted to the Vagaries.”
“Before you leave here, we will grant your blood the Forestallment allowing you to safely summon and navigate your way through the pass,” Hoskiko added. “We will remain here until you return.”
“And then?” Tristan asked.
“We will all leave Crysenium,” she answered. “We will seek out the rebel Heretic network. Together we will go on to attract ever more souls to our cause, until our numbers are such that thePon Q’tar has no choice but to listen to our peace plan. To save the craft, we must bring the Heretics back to the light. Ordinarily this would have been impossible. But with you leading us, we finally have a chance.”
“But why should these people listen to me?” Tristan asked.
Faxon smiled. “You’re forgetting something. You are theJin’Sai. For aeons, millions have anticipated your coming. TheJin’Sai willingly changing his blood signature so that it has no appreciable lean will be seen as a monumental, unheard-of act of good faith. Everyone will understand that your intentions carry no bias, and that you are willing to work for the good of both sides. We believe that millions from each side will rise up to hear your word, then drop their swords to follow you. Even the Imperial Order and thePon Q’tar will eventually be forced to listen. Peace is finally possible, Jin’Sai, if only you will lead us. If the fanatical Heretics can be reasoned with and again be persuaded to accept the Vigors, Rustannica and Shashida will finally be reunited into one kingdom.”
Pausing for a moment, he looked into Tristan’s eyes. “It will be a new kingdom,” he said softly. “One ruled in peace and harmony by theJin’Sai, his blood signature permanently altered to the vertical. Should you succeed in your destiny, you will rule the combined lands with no bias toward either side of the craft. So will your children, and your children’s children, who shall all inherit your blood.”
Tristan was speechless. Can such a thing be true? he wondered. All of his life he had scarcely been able to imagine himself as Eutracia’s leader, much less somehow presiding over such vast, magical lands as these. He looked at Hoskiko with wonder.
“Can your plan work?” he asked her.
Reaching out, she took his hands into hers. “All we know is that this horrible war produces nothing but endless slaughter,” she answered. “We realize that the risks are huge, but so are the possible rewards. If it is ever to end, someone must take the first step. The likelihood of the Heretics doing so is nearly nonexistent. That being the case, can we do less than try?”
“Why can’t you change my blood signature here and now?” he asked. “Surely that is in your power.”
“Altering the blood signature lean of aJin’Sai or aJin’Saiou is a major event in the fabric of the craft,” Faxon answered. “Even so, your wizards should be able to do it. But the energy released will be so great that if it were done here, Crysenium might be revealed to the Heretics. Crysenium’s existence already balances on a knife’s edge. We simply cannot afford to take that chance.
“There is something else that you must know,” Faxon said. “When Xanthus attacked Faegan, his intent was not to kill your wizard. Instead, he used his azure bolt to grant Faegan a Forestallment. Faegan is probably clever enough to have learned this. But if not, tell him that the Forestallment grants him the index to both scrolls. He will understand its importance.”
Hoskiko looked deep into Tristan’s eyes. “Do you accept your mission, Jin’Sai?” she asked. “Understand that once you return to us, you might be forced to remain here forever. Should thePon Q’tar sense your presence then close the pass, even we cannot send you home again.”
“What about the Prophecies of the Tome?” Tristan asked. “The great book’s third and final volume? On its pages it is written that I am to read the entire treatise before joining the two ‘sides’ of the craft. And that I am to be the only one who will read them. If I come back before doing so, doesn’t that fly in the face of everything my wizards believed to be true?”
“Yes-as far as it goes,” Hoskiko answered. “But so long as you are with us, your concerns over the Tome do not matter.”
“Why don’t they?” Tristan asked.
Hoskiko smiled. “Because there is nothing contained in the Tome that we cannot tell you. After all, some of the Tome’s authors are in this very room.”
Stunned, Tristan sat back in his chair. He looked around the table, then back to Hoskiko. “I accept the mission,” he answered.
“Then when you leave Eutracia to return here, say your good-byes well,” Hoskiko said. “It might be the last time you see your loved ones.”
“I will,” Tristan said.
“Very well,” Hoskiko said. “Please close your eyes.”
Tristan did as he was asked. Hoskiko placed one hand on Tristan’s arm. He soon felt a tingle in his blood. It was not unpleasant, nor did it last long. Smiling, Hoskiko looked at him. “You may open your eyes,” she said.
“What just happened?” he asked.
“The Forestallment allowing you to navigate the pass has been added to your blood signature,” she said. “Because of our higher gifts, doing this caused you no pain. Nor need you be trained in its use. Once you call the pass forth you will be in its depths. From that point on, all will be revealed.”
Hoskiko waved her fingers and caused a folded parchment to appear. It hovered gently between her and the prince. Tristan looked questioningly at Hoskiko. Smiling, she nodded.
Tristan grasped the parchment form the air and unfolded it. Upon it was written a lengthy series of complex numbers and symbols.
“This is a craft formula, isn’t it?” Tristan asked.
“Yes,” Hoskiko answered. “It is the formula allowing Forestallments to be imbued into endowed blood. Faegan already has the scrolls’ indexes. With this additional formula he can accomplish much. But because of your wizards’ lesser gifts, if they choose to grant you other Forestallments you will experience great pain.”
Thinking for a moment, Tristan recalled the first time that had happened. “That was the case when Succiu placed Forestallments into my blood,” he said. “I thought I would surely die from the pain.”
“Yes,” Hoskiko answered simply.
Tristan folded the parchment and placed it beneath his vest. “Thank you,” he said.
Faxon looked across the table at Xanthus. “Come here,” he said. Xanthus immediately came to stand between
