The three visitors did as they were asked, with Tyranny sitting on one side of Tristan and Wigg on the other. Tristan looked over at Tyranny to see that for the first time since he had known her, she seemed truly dumbstruck.
As Mashiro took his seat, Tristan wanted to pose question after question, but he realized there was no hurry. He had finally reached Shashida, and his heart told him that everything he so hungered to know would come to light soon enough. Forcing back his need to speak, he looked around the table.
Regardless of age or gender, the twelve ultimate masters and mistresses of the Vigors were immensely imposing. Mystics like Wigg, Faegan, Aeolus, and Jessamay all projected a sense of calm power. The Ones were also august, Tristan realized, but far more so. Ten of them looked immensely old, like Mashiro, but one woman and one man looked more like Tristan’s age. As Tristan focused his attention on the younger-looking woman sitting across from him, he took a sharp breath.
She was a truly arresting creature. Parted on one side, her hair was long, straight, and black, lying atop her shoulders in undulating waves. Her face was sensual, with even features and a strong jawline. Sleek eyebrows rested above dark brown irises that lay partly hidden beneath their upper lids, and her lips were full and finely drawn. Rather than cheapening her natural beauty, her faint blue eyeshadow and deep red lipstick accentuated her loveliness. The light blue robe that crisscrossed the swell of her breasts was embroidered with graceful images of multi-colored flower blossoms.
“Forgive me, Jin’Sai, ” Mashiro offered. “I must introduce you and your friends to the other members of theChikara Inkai. Because we usually speak an advanced dialect of Old Eutracian, our names will no doubt sound odd to you.”
“This group is called theChikara…Inkai?” Tristan asked.
Mashiro nodded. “In your dialect it means Vigors Council. Just as you have your Conclave and the Rustannican Empire has itsPon Q’tar, we have ourChikara Inkai, or simply theInkai. One or more members of the council can also be referred to asInkai. The people you see here are the world’s greatest Vigors mystics, duly elected by the Shashidan populace to oversee the nation and to conduct the War of Attrition. Shashida is divided into ten provinces that we govern. Each of the people here represents one such area, and the designs you see on their robes portray something for which their prefectures are particularly well known.”
As Mashiro introduced eachInkai member, the names did seem strange to the three visitors. When the time came to name the beautiful woman sitting directly across from Tristan, Mashiro called her Hoshi of the House of Lotus Blossoms, and he said that she was the supreme commander of the Shashidan armies. The young man seated beside her was introduced as the first admiral of the Shashidan armada.
At first Tristan was surprised that younger people held such important posts. Then he reminded himself that in the maze that was the craft, one’s perceived age was meaningless. When Hoshi was introduced to theJin’Sai, she bowed slightly, but she did not speak.
As if suddenly embarrassed, Mashiro’s expression darkened. “Forgive me, Jin’Sai, ” he said. “You and your fellow Conclave members must be hungry and thirsty. Would you like to dine as we talk?”
Not wanting to delay the conversation, Tristan shook his head. “We can eat later,” he answered. “But we could do with some wine, if it please you.”
Smiling, Mashiro nodded. “We have something better,” he said.
Mashiro clapped his hands and three servants appeared through a side door. Two men and one woman entered, each dressed in a silk robe and bearing a silver tray laden with silver pitchers and handleless cups. As they served everyone, Tristan noticed that the liquid they poured was steaming. Tristan picked up his cup and smelled its contents to find its aroma deeply pungent and unlike anything that he had smelled before. After everyone was served, the servants left the room as swiftly and quietly as they had come.
Tristan looked over at Mashiro. “Might I ask what this is?” he inquired.
Mashiro smiled. “It is calledumake, ” he said. “It is a distilled spirit that is laced with seasonings and best served hot. One must be careful of its potency, especially at first. Our blood is accustomed to umake, but yours is not.”
Tristan, Wigg, and Tyranny each gingerly took a sip of the heady liquid. Closing his eyes, Wigg swallowed hard. Despite her love of spirits, Tyranny coughed outright, producing smiles from some of theInkai. But Tristan, accustomed as he was to drinking harsh Minion akulee, found the brew to his liking.
Putting down his cup, Mashiro looked at the three visitors. To Tristan’s surprise, theInkai leader’s expression had grown serious.
“Before we tell you of our world, we must inform you of recent developments in Eutracia,” he said. “What you are about to hear will disturb you, but that cannot be helped.”
Immediately concerned for those he left behind, Tristan stiffened. “How can you know what happens on our side of the world?” he asked. “Are you in communion with one of my mystics?”
Mashiro sadly shook his head. “No, Jin’Sai, ” he answered. “At this moment none of your mystics possesses the needed forestallment. Like thePon Q’tar, we have an Oracle in our service. What the Orb of the Vigors sees, she also sees. It has been this way since the earliest days of the War of Attrition.”
Intensely interested, Wigg leaned forward. “What is an Oracle?” he asked.
Mashiro smiled. “I appreciate your curiosity, but there will be ample time to discuss matters of the craft,” he said. “First you need to hear us out. I am sorry to tell you that one of your Conclave members has been wounded and another has been killed. You have our deepest condolences.”
Tristan felt his stomach lurch. Shailiha, he feared. After quickly turning to look at Wigg and Tyranny, he cast a worried gaze back toward Mashiro.
“Who are they?” he breathed.
“TheJin’Saiou has been gravely injured, but she lives,” Mashiro answered. “The Viper Lord attacked your capital city of Tammerland. She was struck in the face by viper venom and blinded in one eye. Of greater worry is that the venom still runs through her bloodstream. Your wizards Faegan and Aeolus are tending to her as we speak, but her fate remains uncertain.”
Heartbroken, Tristan buried his face in his hands and fought back his tears. After several quiet moments passed he took another much-needed swallow of umake, then looked back at Mashiro.
“Who was killed?” he asked, his voice little more than a raspy whisper.
Mashiro sadly turned his gaze toward Wigg. “Abbey of the House of Lindstrom died while fighting off the Blood Vipers,” he said quietly. “We are deeply sorry, First Wizard. EachInkai member knows how much you loved her.”
For several moments Wigg’s eyes widened and his jaw worked up and down, but no words came. As his eyes welled with tears, he suddenly cried out and reached for Tristan, burying his face in theJin’Sai ’s shoulder. Tristan held the ancient wizard as Wigg’s tears came freely and his body shuddered with the terrible news. Stunned by what he had just heard, Tristan turned to look at Mashiro.
“What of my sister?” he asked. “Will she live?”
“That is unknown,” a female voice said from across the table. “It is only because of her extraordinary blood quality that she still clings to life. But hope remains, however dim.”
Tristan looked across the table at the woman who had just spoken. He remembered Mashiro introducing her as Midori of the House of Snowy Mountains. Her white hair was long and her green eyes kind, and her dark brown robe was embroidered with snowy mountain peaks resembling the Tolenkas. Like Mashiro, expressive lines creased her ancient-looking face.
Trying to collect himself, Wigg looked blankly around with tear-filled eyes. He still trembled, but now the cause was pure rage.
“Did Abbey suffer?” he asked.
“I will not lie to you, First Wizard, because that is not our way,” Midori answered sadly. “Yes, she suffered before dying. Even so, you can be assured that the vipers that killed her suffered far more before your Minion warriors ended their lives. But I regret that there is more to tell you. We possess these facts because I am the Oracle to whom Mashiro referred earlier.”
“What is an Oracle?” Tristan asked again.
“Aeons ago and long before the War of Attrition started, twin baby girls of right-leaning blood were born here in Shashida,” Mashiro answered. “Like your wizard Faegan, they were born already possessing a very rare gift of the craft. In Faegan’s case, it is his gift of Consummate Recollection. Here on this side of the world, the twin girls
