Elves: Beyond the Mists of Katura (7 page)

Stein blew out his cheeks. ‘The first adepts arrived a hundred years ago, well before any conflict could be foreseen. But the latest arrived less than a hundred days ago. You’ll have
to make your own judgement.’

‘I wish I could believe he wouldn’t ignore the warnings. If there were any?’

Stein flinched under Auum’s bleak gaze.

‘There were warnings. But the tide rolled in so quickly. The Wytch Lords had been building their strength of magic and arms beyond the curtain of the Blackthorne Mountains, but their
chosen moment to strike should have been foreseen.’

‘We are all guilty of not seeing the obvious at times,’ said Auum. Stein inclined his head. ‘What was the trigger?’

‘Our greatest mage, a man called Septern, created a spell to prove a theory. Once he’d announced his success to a four-college meeting it quickly became clear they would all fight to
get it.’

‘Must be some spell,’ said Auum.

‘It is. It’s Dawnthief.’

‘That’s supposed to mean something, is it?’

‘Dawnthief,’ repeated Stein. ‘An extraordinary construct. Septern made the impossible possible. He demonstrated that, in theory, magic can do absolutely anything.’

‘I think that’s too great an assumption,’ said Drech, his enthusiasm for this debate only marginally less than Stein’s. ‘Dawnthief can, in theory, remove all light
and air from an entire dimension. That does not prove that magic can, say, grow crops from seeds in a fraction of the usual time.’

‘What?’ said Auum.

‘It’s a matter of perspective,’ said Stein, turning to Drech, his hands making a globe, his fingertips together. ‘If you take our dimension as a single entity, then a
spell that can remove all light, air and life from that dimension must, at its core, understand that life. Hence it could potentially give rise to any spell for any purpose you care to
mention.’

‘What!?’ said Auum, hoping he was mishearing but knowing he was not.

‘That doesn’t follow,’ said Drech. ‘If my understanding of Dawnthief is correct, it merely, if I can use that word in this context, removes light and air and hence life.
You do not have to understand the basis of the genesis of life to know how to remove it from something that is living.’

The slap of Auum’s palms on the table overturned all three mugs and jolted Drech and Stein from their ridiculous discussion. Both looked at him like guilty schoolchildren, Stein’s
expression instantly became anxious. There was silence but for the
drip-drip
of spilled infusion from the table to the floor. Auum’s face was hot with anger.

‘And there you both sit. Smug examples of exactly why magic is so dangerous and its practitioners must be treated with maximum suspicion. One of your own has developed a spell that, unless
I misheard you, can kill everything in a heartbeat, and yet you sit there and discuss the finer points of the theory?

‘How can you have been so . . .
careless
? Yniss preserve us, but I thought I’d heard it all. But in all the thousands of years I have enjoyed blessed life, I have never been
so astonished, so
furious
, that another sentient being could do something so . . . so
stupid
!’

Auum pushed back and got up, unable to sit any longer. He walked around the kitchen, trying to get his thoughts in order and failing completely.

‘To be fair, we weren’t the ones who were careless,’ said Drech.

‘It’s the whole sorry lot of you!’ Auum shouted. ‘Don’t you understand? This is the curse of magic. It endangers innocent people all over Balaia and Calaius. I
don’t care if you call yourself a mage or Il-Aryn, you are all complicit in this. Of course Ystormun and the Wytch Lords want Dawnthief. Why by all the gods of elves and men did you let this
Septern create this thing and, worse, allow it to be announced to the entire dimension?’

Auum rubbed his hands over his face as if that would cleanse him of this reality. But when he looked back at Drech and Stein his anger intensified.

‘Have you really nothing to say?’

Stein had a sheen of sweat on his brow and was rubbing his hands together.

‘The spell is hidden. The Wytch Lords can’t get their hands on it.’

‘They are fighting a war to do just that,’ said Auum. ‘Clearly they think otherwise.’

‘They have no choice,’ said Drech. ‘They need to get to the spell before any of the other colleges.’

‘And are you lot going to fight for it too? Can any of you resist such power?’

Stein didn’t reply at once, considering his next words carefully.

‘It is only natural that the colleges should seek the spell. Not to use for destruction but to analyse, research and to keep safe against those who desire its capacity for
destruction.’

Not carefully enough.

‘Do I have
IDIOT
tattooed on my forehead?’ demanded Auum, tapping it. ‘I must do if you expect me to swallow that cup of frog poison. “Not to use
for destruction”? Yniss bless me, but Takaar is sending adepts to Julatsa to learn battle magic. It is
what you do
. And if you captured the spell that could devastate your enemies
you expect me to believe you wouldn’t use it to gain more power?’

‘It’s a moot point,’ said Stein, shifting nervously. ‘None of us know where it is.’

Auum had emitted a derisory laugh before he could swallow it.

‘Then praise be to all we hold dear, we’re all saved. Stand down the armies, go back to your homes and tell your children they are safe for eternity!’ Auum leaned over the
table and shouted straight into Stein’s face. ‘How can you know that the Wytch Lords can’t find it if you don’t know where it is! In case you didn’t learn this in your
history lessons, we had a hundred and seventy years to understand the tenacity of that utter, utter bastard Ystormun. And now all six of them are chasing the damned thing. It doesn’t matter
if your precious colleges can’t find it,
they will
. They will never give up and they will never, ever stop. Not unless you stop them.’

Auum half sat, half fell back into his chair, his energy and his ire well and truly spent.

‘Unless we stop them,’ he muttered. ‘Yniss save us all, but this is a nightmare.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Stein. ‘I wish it could have been any other message I carried.’

Drech was frowning. ‘If Auum is right –’ Auum growled, Drech smiled briefly ‘– and we must assume he is, why are the Wytch Lords fired up about invading Calaius?
They should be focusing all their efforts on finding Dawnthief.’

‘It’s not that simple,’ said Stein. ‘The Wytch Lords, even backed by Wesmen muscle, are by no means certain to gain the victories that would leave them free to search for
the spell. And now they see an alliance between Julatsa and Calaius, they see you as a threat. They want to snuff out that threat.’

‘You’re saying that us sending Il-Aryn to Julatsa has led directly to the Wytch Lords planning another invasion?’ asked Drech.

Auum shook his head.

‘Actually, I think it’s far simpler,’ he said. ‘We remain the resource-rich land the Wytch Lords need to fund their war effort. And Ystormun hates us with a passion
I’m sure has remained undimmed across the centuries. It’s the simplest of equations. He’s been waiting for his chance and now you idiots and your precious Dawnthief have presented
it to him.’

Auum grabbed his mug, tossed out the few dregs remaining after the spill and refilled it at the cauldron.

‘Well, thanks for placing everything I’ve striven to achieve over the last seven hundred years at mortal risk. And on behalf of every innocent elf and human, thanks for creating the
means to kill us all on a whim. Now I need time to think. Alone. One last thing: how long have we got?’

‘Until what?’ asked Stein.

Auum blinked. ‘You really need me to clarify that?’

Stein blushed. ‘No, sorry. They could be at sea now. We were attacked on our way to warn you they were preparing ships, ready for their strike. I’ve been here for three days, plus
four on the wing. I think it’s safe to assume they’re either on their way or leaving imminently.’

Auum nodded. ‘Go,’ he said.

Stein was out of his chair with the speed of a panther. Drech stood too, but a little more slowly.

‘While you’re thinking, there’s something else you should add to the mix,’ he said.

‘Oh yes?’ said Auum. ‘Please heap on more reasons to hate you.’

‘It’s obvious we’ll have to travel to Balaia with Il-Aryn and the TaiGethen.’

‘Very obvious.’

‘We have to take Takaar with us.’

Auum’s heart was stone. ‘Absolutely not. If I have to kill him myself to stop him boarding a ship, I will.’

‘I know how you feel about him, Auum, but without him, you will not bring half the adepts with you. You’ll be ignoring the extraordinary talent he possesses.’

‘He will undermine everything we try to do. He’ll undermine you, Drech, you know he will. And sometimes he won’t even mean to. He isn’t strong enough to fight in Balaia.
Yniss knows I’m not sure I am. I don’t care that he’s the most talented, or that he’s your spiritual leader, we’re going to be sailing into the teeth of a massive
conflict, and if he freezes or disappears inside his head at the wrong moment it could be catastrophic.’

‘And if he doesn’t come, every adept who still agrees to travel will sail with little or no confidence.’

Auum sucked his top lip. All those centuries of bizarre behaviour, and there must have been many more episodes than Auum was aware of, and still they held him in mythical, almost godlike awe.
The only one of them who had really seen the light was Drech, and Auum pitied the path he trod, notionally leading the Il-Aryn but playing a poor second to Takaar at the mad elf’s whim.

‘What does he know about Dawnthief?’ asked Auum.

‘As much as any of us,’ said Drech. He nodded at Stein. ‘Julatsa shared the text of the theory with us, and he’s certainly read it.’

‘And that doesn’t worry you? It doesn’t make you wonder why he’s so intent on getting to Balaia?’

‘He wants to rescue the adepts trapped in Julatsa,’ said Drech.

‘And you don’t think he’ll be after the spell too?’ Auum searched Drech’s face for support but even he seemed blind to the obvious. ‘What an opportunity this
gives him. Balaia presumably in total chaos, all eyes on the Wytch Lords and none focused on the search? For anyone with the ability, this is a good time to make progress unnoticed.’ Auum
sighed. ‘Look, Drech, I don’t think for one moment that Takaar would want to cast the spell, even if he were able to. But I think he’d tinker with it, try and understand it, and
he is not of sound mind. Worse, he’s clever enough to uncover it and deranged enough to leave it for someone else to pick up. On every level I can think of, we cannot afford his sort of
liability.’

Drech shrugged. ‘I’m sorry, Auum, he has to come.’

Auum jabbed a finger at Drech. ‘Then he’s your patient. Keep him out of my way and off whatever ship I find myself on. And when he detonates, as he is sure to do, pray that you can
confine the blast.’

Ystormun’s consciousness travelled inside the body of a shaman and with the strike force sailing across a heavy sea to Calaius. The Wesman spiritualists had proved so
amenable to mind control and so accepting of Wytch Lord magics. They were given little choice of course, and the effects of long-term use of their minds and bodies were unfortunate, but there were
plenty of other subjects available when they were beyond use.

It amused Ystormun to watch the Wesmen work. They were unskilled as sailors, particularly of ocean-going vessels, but they were enthusiastic and strong, and their sheer energy made up in good
part for their lack of experience. Enough skilled sailors had been put on board each of the ten ships to ensure they could survive the crossing, and the rest was left to the fates. Not even Wytch
Lords could tamper with the elements. Not yet, anyway.

Ystormun walked his host body all the way to the prow. Wesman sailors and soldiers alike made a path for him, seeing all the signs of possession in his face. He stared through the shaman’s
keen eyes and could just about make out the dark on the horizon that was Calaius.

He found himself experiencing a thrill that pushed aside the thoughts of revenge and the memory of his humiliation. Ystormun found he could recall the scents of the rainforest and the sounds
echoing night and day in the deeps of the canopy. He could taste the sweetness of Calaian fruit and herbs, the potency of their root alcohols. And he could hear the screams of elves dying at his
behest.

Ystormun allowed himself the briefest of hidden smiles. Incredibly, he had actually
missed
the place, and there was some form of faint excitement at the thought of his return, however
vicarious.

How long he had waited for this moment to come; his pleas to the cadre, his plotting and planning, his aborted attempts to defy them and mount an invasion of his own to make himself independent
from them. And now, thanks to Septern, his spell and the wars engulfing Balaia, the full force of his fury could be unleashed. This time slavery would be replaced with the glory of genocide. Wesmen
would sail the barges, wield the axes and skin the animals for their rich fur. This time Calaius would be the wealth mine it would already have been but for the cadre’s endless meddling.

But first the elves would suffer, and he would force two of them to watch it all before he freed them. Free to endure their failure for the rest of eternity, to know that their gods had deserted
them. Ystormun had pondered so many excruciating tortures but none other would provide the end he desired for them: endless mental pain, now that was a delicious thought.

Ystormun let their faces play in his memory one more time and their names touched the shaman’s lips.