“Come on, come on, get on with it,” said Arwyn irritably.
“These matters cannot be rushed, milord,” Callador replied somewhat petulantly. “If the circle is not cast properly and precisely, there is no telling what manner of visitation may occur. These things do not always work out as planned, you know. In case some other entity should force its way into the circle, for safety’s sake, we do want to make sure it is contained.”
“Yes, yes, by all means,” grumbled Arwyn, making little circles with his hand, indicating that the wizard should continue.
Callador grunted and nodded, then made a pass with his hand, and the four white candles stubs ignited. Callador called the quarters, invoking the spirits of fire, water, air, and earth to preside over the circle. That done, he made a brief invocation to the gods, then began to cast the spell. Derwyn couldn’t understand a word of it. He’d seen adepts at work before but increased exposure to magic did not make him any more comfortable with it. There were entirely too many stories about wizards conjuring up some entity and then being slain by their own handiwork. Callador was a master mage, the finest in Boeruine, but even he admitted that magic could be unpredictable. No wizard fully understood the forces he dealt with. Those who claimed they did usually had life expectancies that were very brief.
He felt the temperature increase subtly within the great hall. The candles placed around the circle and the braziers in the corners flickered. Through the window, Derwyn could see the twilight fading fast, but within the hall, it seemed to grow even darker.
The hairs on the back of his neck prickled and stood up as the air within the circle became hazy. Some 264 thing that looked like smoke appeared within the circle, except it wasn’t smoke. It was more like a mist, but it didn’t simply rise; it swirled and undulated, coalescing into a pattern that spiraled back into itself like a smoky whirlpool.
Derwyn moistened his lips nervously and leaned forward in his chair as the outline of a figure started to appear within the spiraling mist, or whatever that ethereal smoke was. As the smoke faded, the figure resolved, walking toward them slowly as if through some sort of tunnel.
In a sense, thought Derwyn, that was exactly what it was. Somewhere in Anuire, in some locked room, that spiral had appeared, and their informant was walking toward it. If such a smoky spiral had appeared within his room, Derwyn wondered, even knowing where it led, very little could have inspired him to walk toward it. It was like contemplating entering the Shadow World.
If the need were great enough, he supposed he could do it, but it would take a lot.
As the figure started to come through, Derwyn saw that it was female.
The long hair down almost to the waist and the slender curves were unmistakable. And then the smoke faded behind the woman as she stepped out into the circle, and Derwyn sucked in his breath sharply as he saw who it was.
It was Princess Laera! He had not seen her in some years, not since that last, fateful Summer Court when all of this had started, but he recognized her at once. She was, after all, the woman who would have been his stepmother, even though they were almost the same age. She had grown even more beautiful since he had seen her last, and despite the cold anger in her gaze, Derwyn couldn’t a6S take his eyes off her.
He was stunned, and not just by her beauty. The emperor’s own sister was spying for Boeruine! He glanced at his father with disbelief, but Arwyn just sat calmly, sipping at his mead and watching her.
“Welcome, Your Highness,” he said, his lips twisting into a slight, ironic smile.
She glanced angrily at Derwyn. “What is he doing here? I told you I would speak to you alone!”
“Since when do you dictate conditions here?” his father replied coldly.
“Need I remind you, Laera, that it was you who came to me? If I choose to have my son present, that is my prerogative.”
She glared at him, but accepted it. “As you wish,” she said. “I suppose Derwyn can be trusted.” She spoke of him as if he weren’t even there. “It is just that I am taking an enormous risk in contacting you like this.”
“Risk?” said Arwyn scornfully. “What risk is there to you? If you have left your bedroom door bolted, as you doubtless have, who would force his way into the chamber of a princess of Anuire? And if someone came knocking while you were here, you could easily claim to have been asleep. The chances you are taking here are negligible, so don’t speak to me of risk. You took a greater risk in sending word to me by messenger when you first contacted me with your kind offer of assistance.” He grinned wolfishly.
“Now, what word do you bring?”
She lifted her chin defiantly, but kept her temper in check. Her eyes, however, spoke volumes. “My brother has returned to Anuire with the army,” she replied.
Derwyn noticed the corner of his father’s mouth a66 twitch slightly when she said, “My brother.” He did not like any contradiction, no matter how unintentional or indirect, of his claim that Michael was only a pretender, an imposter. “He’s returned, you say?”
He glanced at his son. “And none of our troops or garrisons reported any engagements?”
Derwyn shook his head. “No, not as of the last report.”
“That is because there were no engagements,” Laera said, “at least, not with your
