“Her arrogance and envy of all the Empyrean races was indeed rotting deep into her bones,” Master Harlune confirmed with a slow and careful nod, keeping to his pace. “She has great plans, dealing with the ley lines and snatching up power and affecting all magic, damning and dooming the undead and seizing all of the ancient secrets for Isparians… meaning herself, of course.

  “She has begun the fatal descent of so many of the older Empyrean nations, dealing with things Beyond for secrets and power even as our own ancestors did, and the undead continue to do, making bargains for damnation and planning ways for others to pay for those bargains instead of herself. Her willingness to sacrifice others for power reminds me greatly of Lady Aerefalle’s behavior, although Aerefalle is slyer and more subtle about it in recent centuries than she once was. Perhaps not as many men or women desiring her touch and company as there once was.”

  “You’ve not visited all the Hengestone sites,” Kris pointed out to me.

  “They are probably not as important to the ley lines as all the Festival Stone sites,” I replied, which earned me an instant sharp glance from Harlune.

  “Deduced that yourself, did you?” he asked softly, glancing about to make sure no one had heard, but most of the squads were conversing around their own fires, and respectfully not bothering our important guest. “May I ask how?”

  “There are major ley lines running under every place of habitation, and for some reason the Festival Stones are also almost always located near the cities. The Henges are scattered, and while they are indeed located on nexi, they don’t command near the influence on primary ley lines as the Festival Stones do.

  “That celebratory popping they do is mana venting as a control factor for the lines. The Henges only exude mana naturally if you pull on them, or stand inside them, an effect easily duplicated in every single town hall once erected in every single town.

  “It was also exponentially harder to affect the stone around and under the Festival Stones than it was the Henges. I could even fix up the Holtburg Henge without much difficulty.

  “Exactly how to manipulate those lines is still beyond me, but I’m hoping that Nuhmudira also hasn’t figured that out yet,” I finished calmly.

  “Before now, only myself and Asheron had figured that secret out,” Harlune admitted after a few more spoonfuls of quiet contemplation. “Even the cleverest of the undead who’ve been around ten millennia and more believe the Henges are the root and heart of the ley line system. I will trust you all not to repeat that to anyone.”

  Heads nodded all around.

  “Might the witch have blathered a wee bit o’ something about who might’ve been behind the Fall?” the Mick asked in an artificially sweet voice fairly dripping malice.

  Harlune grunted approval, but not certainty. “Her personal belief was that someone intended to set up a massively destructive wave of magic aimed at Asheron, Bhael’Zaron, and the Virindi Imperator. Given the fourth missing party to that meeting of powers, she believes it was Prince Gerain, the true head of all of the undead factions, and the most secretive of them.

  “But something happened that both bled off the power of the magic, disrupted it, and scattered it widely, changing the very nature of it and leaving it completely out of control. While the undead certainly were able to profit from the incredible disruption to the power of you Isparians and your allies, what investigations I myself made and I heard of through her indicate the undead were nowhere near prepared for the events of what happened, either. In particular, the revelation of so many of their hidden enclaves was a great blow to their collective desire for secrecy and hoarding things close. Each of the factions blamed the other for what has occurred, and certainly none have come forward to claim responsibility for it. Indeed, Prince Gerain, like Bhael’Zharon and Asheron, has not been seen since, either, suggesting the magic may have backlashed on him.”

  “You think that stunt your mom and dad pulled, disrupting that Viamontian Ritual, could have been enough to disrupt whatever was intended?” I lobbed Kris’s way.

  “It was a lot of raw power, and heading to Dereth. Hundreds of spellcasters and loyal knights involved, if not the thousands of something truly grand. They put a lot into it, and it went pretty crunk wild when my folks disrupted it,” Princess Kristie nodded slowly. “Cause something of the scale here? Not a chance. If it hit at exactly the wrong moment for some twat doing something clever? Oh, yeah, that was a ton of juice coming in from the flank and going to take any Caster by surprise. No way someone was going to be able to control and compensate for a blast like that coming out of nowhere,” she nodded.

  “Forgive me, young lady, but you are?” Harlune asked, eyeing her warily.

  “Master Harlune of the ancient Empire of the Yalain, I am the Lady Magos Ryin. May I present to you Her Imperial Highness Kristie Rantha, second daughter of Briggs and Sama Rantha, the Emperor and Empress of Ispar,” I promptly spoke up for her, good little Imperial citizen and personal quasi-herald that I was.

  The old mage blinked in shock. “Briggs? Commander Briggs, of Celdon?” he asked hesitantly.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  I held out my hand, and Kris rolled her eyes as she slapped a Platinum Scarab into it. Not that she needed the thing, but they made great higher-end coin equivalents, now that pyreal was worth next to squat. “Of course you would know my dad,” Kris grumbled.

  “He was one of a very few Isparians who could look down on me. Rather hard to forget him and that big Hammer he used,” the Yalaini artificer admitted in some lingering astonishment. “Conquered Ispar and made himself emperor, did he?” he asked keenly.

  “To be utterly fair, he united Aluvia, freed Roulea, slaughtered half of Viamont, and Mom basically browbeat both the Gharu’n and the Sho into acknowledging his status. There are still some rebellious peoples here and there, but Mom’s been doing some investigations into Milantea.” Investigations which had drawn a lot of blood, actually, as the Empress was pretty disrespectful of people and nations who practiced dark magic and called them state secrets of treasured noble family lines.

  Empress Sama had a ruthlessly effective army of Witch Hunters and Inquisitors behind her to back her up, too. The Emperor could have sent in a full-blown invasion, but that would just have sent the rats to ground. Instead, Empress Sama was going through the cities and villages of Milantea with a shadowy comb, finding all sorts of interesting things as she did, and scooping up a lot of nastiness before it could actually run.

  Including running into her first Hag Coven, confirming that the Hag Curse really did exist back on Ispar. As for Auberean here? We still didn’t know.

  I Cast those Sendings for Kris at least every other day, so she was pretty caught up on politics back home.

  Harlune looked at Kris’ relaxed and completely unrepentant face, and just sighed. “Broke the Viamontians, you say? Well, I can’t say that is unexpected. They long had it coming, and it sounds like the lesson was appropriately brutal.”

  “The thoroughness with which my parents dealt with them convinced the Gharu’n and the Sho to knuckle under to them. There’s a lot of bruised egos and hard feelings, but my mom, she just loves that level of personal excitement in her life.” Kris shrugged, but there was a blaze in her pale violet eyes that clearly indicated she enjoyed that level of experience, too.

  “And you, young man, forcibly remind me of that Briggs I knew back then, although you are much darker of skin than the Isparians I am familiar with,” Harlune asked, turning to the impressive bulk of Commander Briggs.

  “I was born on Jafilya, which is well across the oceans from Ispar, Master Harlune. My name also is Briggs, and I am the Commander and Warlord of the Isparian Expeditionary forces which are taking back and fortifying Osteth,” Briggs rumbled in his magnificent deep voice, pale green eyes meeting the softly glowing orbs of the older Empyrean before him without effort. “Our primary efforts at this time involve upgrading the quality of our troops and the independent citizens pursuing martial and magical prowess, defending the lands we are resettling, and exploring the changes to this island and the inhabitants of it since the Fall.

  “Our most recent success was the liberation of King Bobo from the machinations of Mudmouth and his false Bobo on Aphus Lassel. For your information, four of the Prodigals are still alive, including Candeth Martine, and we can also confirm that Aerbax survived the Fall and has been recuperating under the volcano at the Singularity Caul for all of this time.”

  “Don’t forget that visit by the most fair an’ accomplished Lady Aerefalle after that whole shebang came t’ light,” the Mick reminded him, and Briggs inclined his head to him.

  “My old friend Ten here says the Royal Family yet survive, and are waiting to greet me in Freehold.” He had a complex look in his eye, as King Borelean had once been a student of his.

  “Freehold instead of Mayoi, because that’s where the heart of the new magic instruction is taking place,” I informed him calmly, which perked him up noticeably.

  “I had noticed you had a very unusual aura, and are casually displaying powers I am not familiar with, Lady Magos,” Master Harlune admitted.

  “It is called the Matrix method of magic, rather than the Isparian, and is quite different from the Empyrean-sourced methods you are familiar with, Master Harlune.” I pursed my lips and blew a single Note.

  The magic vibrated and coalesced around us into a thousand hues and colors in the thaumaspectrum, making him jerk upright in shock and wonder as he looked upon the Sublime Chord’s manifestation of the manafield.

  “I daresay I shall be taking lessons as eagerly as the freshest young students, Lady Magos,” he said gravely as the Note faded away slowly, the old Empyrean clearly stirred by the sight.

  “We are attempting to break the final secrets of the various Slayer Weapon Enchantments, along with the Set Pieces, and the supplemental Armor Defenses, among other things, relearning them according to the new paradigm. I have the feeling your input will be nearly as valuable as the new magical Tradition you will be learning, Master Harlune.”

  “The magic has changed much since the Fall, but there are still underlying truths in place that should be relevant, young lady,” he agreed formally, nodding once as he spooned up the last traces of yet another bowl, this time setting the stone container aside. “I see a great number of you are wearing copies of the Rose of Celdon...”

  “Complete with the last upgrades from Ulgrim,” I agreed, slipping off Rose and tossing it to him.

  Harlune caught it nimbly in long fingers, belying his earlier infirmity, and stared at it intently. “You have added your own magicks to this!” he exclaimed softly, not keeping the admiration out of his voice.

  “The Matrix method operates with different structures and Runeforms than the Isparian-Empyrean Tradition, Master Harlune. I would have been remiss not to do so,” I replied calmly.

  He held it up before his eyes, glancing from the amarinthine ruby and back to me several times. “You did not violate the final layers of the Rune-Pistil,” he noticed professionally.

  “One doesn’t do such incredibly detailed work without a plan intended for it, Master Harlune. Naturally I did not touch it. My structures all work around the band.”

  “So I see. There is indeed a final level of Enchantment that can be activated on the Rings.”

  I nabbed the Platinum Scarab out of the air as the Mick flicked it to me, not taking my eyes off the amused elder mage as I tucked it away. “Yes, Master Harlune?”

  “A moment. I’ve not gotten back all of my mana, but I should have enough to do this, considering you’ve done most of the hard work already.” He clasped the Ring between both hands, closing his eyes, and energies whirled and swirled around his hands.

  They looked a lot like the Lost Light, I noticed, as had several of the others, forces shining at the heart of purple-black and bloody crimson.

  “Here you go.” He raised his head to look at me as his hands parted, and Rose floated between them.

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