will reclaim the place that was taken from us.'
Aeron considered the master's words, fighting to remain calm. Reconstructing lessons and conversations from years before, his mind reeled in recognition. 'You were one of the Imaskari archmages, the first sorcerers,' he breathed. 'Who are you, really?'
Oriseus laughed aloud. 'In the land of my birth, I was once called Madryoch. They named me the Ebon Flame.'
'And you've survived all this time.'
'My essence did, trapped in the existence you know as the plane of shadow. I spent centuries wandering this barren place, a formless wraith, powerless and empty. Only through the force of my will did my intellect survive.
'Over the years, I occasionally encountered living travelers, drawn to them by their life, their vitality. Some I destroyed, ignorant of my new powers. Others I learned from, slowly mastering the art of claiming a life for my own by forcing my spirit, my will, into the body of another. The sorcerer known as Oriseus came to the Shadow seeking power almost ten years ago now. Instead, he found me.' The ancient wizard smiled severely. 'This is the key to immortality, Aeron. I shall teach you how to live forever, if you will join me.'
'I don't want that,' Aeron said. There'd been a time when he was willing to pay any price for knowledge, for the power to defeat those who threatened him, to teach them fear. That time was long past. 'No, I'll take the life that's dealt to me.'
'Consider carefully, Aeron,' Oriseus said, a hint of warning in his voice. 'Despite your failure five years ago, despite the fact that you came here to upset a design I have worked on for four millennia, I bear you no malice. You are intelligent and insightful, quick to grasp and wield power. It is your nature. I can use someone of your talents by my side. Wizards of your potential are hard to find.'
Sarim had been intelligent, confident, and strong of will, Aeron thought. But the stone devoured him anyway. He paced around the perimeter of the room, keeping his gaze on Oriseus and the stone before him. The rune- marked iron that banded the relic's waist seemed important, as if it contained or focused the artifact's power. Telemachon had said that he could not direct any magic at the stone, since it would be absorbed, but maybe the frame was a vulnerability?
Oriseus watched him as he took the measure of the chamber and its enchantments, an amused smile on his face. 'Admiring my handiwork?' he asked in a sharp tone.
'Every object, every creature in this world creates magic,' Aeron remarked. 'The Weave is a great river, fed by innumerable streams and tributaries. But this stone seems to consume magic instead of create it. It absorbs magic, twists it into something else. Has it always been like this?'
It didn't seem likely that he could get Oriseus to show him how the spell might be undone, but it couldn't hurt to keep him talking. The longer Aeron studied the Shadow Stone and the complex enchantments that buffered the chamber, the more likely it was that he'd see something he could use.
'That was the secret of the Imaskari strength,' Oriseus said. 'In the beginning of things, the world was made from nothingness, an act of will and purpose. Magic, as you call it, is the echo of this purpose. But this purpose is not unopposed, Aeron. It is, in a sense, an abrogation of something older than creation, an accident of sorts. We live in a single bright flicker of existence, framed by oblivion before and after. That oblivion presses in on us. To put it another way, in the absence of a conscious purpose to exist, the world begins to not exist. This can be harnessed by an adept of strength and skill.'
Aeron realized that Oriseus believed that he posed no threat at all. Some vestige of the intellectual conjuror remained in this hollow shell of a man, a master architect who greatly desired his work to be appreciated. 'When I encountered this five years ago, I called it shadow-magic. I found that it existed in everything, just as the Weave itself flowed through the natural world and the living hearts of animals and men.' Aeron turned a hard stare at Oriseus. 'I read how you and your peers found a way to transcend the human limitation against making use of this power, binding evil spirits to your very souls in order to perceive and wield shadow-magic. Is that what you've done to Dalrioc, Sarim, and the others?'
'Not quite. The Shadow Stone changed that. It opened their eyes to the existence of the shadow-magic, just as it opened yours.' Oriseus made a dismissive gesture with one hand. 'They're fortunate. The compact with which I gained the ability to wield magic came at a much higher price.'
Aeron finished his circuit of the room. He glanced at Eriale, who watched him with a pale face. She held an arrow across her bow, but pointed it at the ground- although Aeron knew she could aim and release the missile in the blink of an eye. He could read the unspoken question in her eyes as she flicked her glance toward the tall sorcerer standing before him. He offered the slightest shake of his head as he turned back to Oriseus; he was certain that the sorcerer would have taken steps to defend himself. Then, to Aeron's surprise, Eriale stepped forward.
'So you intend to rule the world by ruining it,' she said. 'Don't you realize that the world you're making won't be worth ruling? It's pointless, insane. What will be left?'
'What will be left?' Oriseus repeated. 'Why, my dear girl, whatever that I decree shall be left. I shall hold the magic of the world in my right fist, and with my left I shall mold the world into whatever shape I fancy.'
'What gives you the right?' she demanded.
Oriseus's eyes flashed. 'Nothing gives me the right, woman. I claim it. I was the First of the Imaskari, the Ebon Flame. My name struck terror in the hearts of our enemies. At my brothers' side I drove all before me and dragged your barbaric forebears to this world to be our slaves. For forty centuries I have been denied the prize I sought. Now I take it with my own hand!' He raised his hand to cast a spell, and even as Aeron reacted with a counterspell to protect Eriale, Oriseus spat out a word of magical power.
Overhead, a great lambent cyclone of magical energy became visible, trapped and altered by the Shadow Stone's power. 'All the Weave for hundreds of miles around flows to this point,' Oriseus said. 'With each heartbeat, the Shadow Stone takes an ever-growing portion of the world's magic and makes it mine to command!' He batted away Aeron's barrier as if it did not exist.
Aeron gambled on distracting the conjuror. 'So why did you seek the Sceptanar's throne and involve yourself in the conflict between Cimbar and Akanax? Those are secondary goals. This is the only matter of importance.'
Oriseus halted, allowing the magical energy he'd gathered in his hands to dissipate unused. 'As you might imagine, there are those who would not wish to see me complete my work here. The Sceptanar was one of them, an old and weak fool who commanded the misguided allegiance of this powerful city. I needed to make sure that he would not interfere. As for the war with Akanax … it is a shield for me, a cloak to distract any who would oppose me.' He allowed a sly smile to spread across his face. 'To be perfectly honest, it doesn't matter to me who calls himself the Over-king of Chessenta. Within a day, perhaps two, this spell will be complete. And all of the Old Empires will be mine to rule as I please. I may even allow petty kings such as Dalrioc's father to govern their cities and launch the great wars of conquest and expansion they dream of. It will be of no more consequence than the affairs of insects at my feet.'
'And Prince Dalrioc accepts this?'
'He knows where the true power is,' Oriseus replied. 'As do you, Aeron. Will you stand by my side? You have come to master both the bright and the dark magic, guided by nothing more than your own skill and strength of will-quite a rare feat. You have nothing to fear in accepting my offer, and the world to gain.'
'Master Crow made the same offer,' Aeron observed. 'He tried to kill me when I refused his bargain. Why do you need my help? It seems that you're satisfied with events.'
'I don't need your help, Aeron. I merely extend you the opportunity to join the winning side. You could be very useful to me, and I have not forgotten our friendship.'
'Crow also hinted that there was a far less pleasant way for me to be of use to you.'
'That is true, Aeron. I won't bore you with the details.' Oriseus stepped closer, his benevolence vanishing. 'You really have only one alternative. Swear you'll serve me. You and your friend shall weather the coming storm unscathed, and stand at my right hand in the world to come.'
Is there any way to play along, to deceive him? Aeron wondered. Then his eye fell on the Shadow Stone, its radiance forming a black halo behind Oriseus's form. No, he decided. I barely survived the last time I was here. Acceding to Oriseus's demand might preserve my life, but I'd be dead and lost. Steeling himself, he readied his staff. 'I can't do that, Oriseus. If it lies within my power, I mean to put a stop to this.'
'Trust me, Aeron. It doesn't.' Oriseus made a small gesture, and Dalrioc Corynian emerged from the shadows
