This led to a further thought, and the Mage felt pleasurable excitement stir within her. Aurian would arrive eventually—that much was certain. What if Eliseth were to possess Anvar in the same fashion? Then she could spy on her enemy’s movements, and influence her plans from afar. What if she could kill Aurian without a confrontation, either physical or magical—without, indeed, endangering herself in the slightest way? And wouldn’t it be marvelous to bring about the ultimate betrayal—a fitting fate for the Mortal-loving bitch, and the one thing that would hurt Aurian more than anything else in the world—before she put an end to Eilin’s daughter once and for all?
Eliseth laughed aloud. I’m going to enjoy this, she thought. But she knew her pleasure must be postponed for a while. After all, Aurian was not here yet—but Vannor was, and it was through him that she intended to carry out her conquest of Nexis. And what better time to start than tonight?
Somehow, however, the Mage simply could not settle down in the Archmage’s chambers. Perhaps it was because she would be spending the night in what had once been his bed that she was consumed with uneasy thoughts of Miathan, and remembered the last expression of fury and loathing that had been stamped indelibly on his face in the instant she had betrayed him, and taken him out of time. Disquiet began to stir within her. The Archmage’s spells to preserve the food had faded, as she had seen. Supposing her own time-spell had weakened in her absence? What then?
What utter nonsense! Eliseth tried to laugh at herself for entertaining such foolish fancies, but somehow, the laughter had a hollow ring. It would be a simple matter to put her mind at rest, she told herself firmly—she need only go down into the catacombs where she had stowed Miathan’s immobile form in one of the archive chambers, out of harm’s way. She would see that he was still there, safely in her power, and that would be that. Yet Eliseth paced the chamber uneasily, putting off the moment when she must venture down into that dark labyrinth of abandoned tunnels. There were more unpleasant things than Miathan down there. She remembered the Death-Wraiths, and wished that she had not.
By this time, Eliseth was becoming increasingly annoyed with herself—so much so that her anger finally outweighed her trepidation. Snatching up a lamp from the table, she clattered swiftly down the spiral stone staircase and, slamming the door of the Mages’ Tower loudly behind her, marched across the courtyard and into the library without a backward look. As soon as she entered the cold, damp archives, Eliseth remembered why she had hated spending so much time in this place while researching the powers of the grail. Her footsteps, sounding far less swift and certain now, echoed hollowly in the narrow tunnels, on sloping stone floors with a smooth depression down the center of the passages, where the stone had been worn away by the feet of generations of archivists who had passed and re-passed through the catacombs. Trails of moisture gleamed on the wall, reflecting the light of her lamp, and the Weather-Mage shivered in the damp, Uphill air. She wished she had thought to bring her cloak with her from the tower. Still, she thought, I won’t be down here for long. I just need to check on Miathan and go. If I remember rightly, the room where I left him is just along this passage.. . .
He was gone. She couldn’t believe it. Miathan had escaped her. At first she thought she must have lost her way and come into the wrong chamber—but there was no mistaking it. To be absolutely sure, she had marked the door, and when she stepped back, she could see the runes shimmering in the lamplight.—Eliseth looked into the empty room, and dread went through her like a bolt of ice-cold lightning. Where was he?
Suddenly, the Mage remembered what Bern had told her—that the Mortals were afraid to come near the Academy because of Miathan’s ghost. Could he still be here? Could he, even now, be lurking in these dark tunnels? Creeping up on her? With a gasp of horror, Eliseth turned and fled.
The wine that she had taken from Bern’s home was of poorer quality than she was accustomed to, but for once, Eliseth didn’t care. Once she had regained the sanctuary of her chambers—Miathan’s chambers, she thought with a shudder—she barred and bolted the door, and reinforced the lock with every warding spell that she could dredge from her panic-fuddled mind. The Weather-Mage was badly shaken. She took another long draught from the cup that she held in trembling hands and tried to assemble her scattered wits. Her plan to stay here and rule the city from the Academy was in ruins now. One thing was for sure, she thought grimly—until she had discovered Miathan’s whereabouts, it would not be safe to remain in Nexis at all. Should the Archmage come up on her unawares, she could measure her life in minutes—if she was lucky.—Once the initial shock faded, Eliseth began to think more calmly. It seemed doubtful, she decided, that Miathan could be here at present. Surely he would have discovered her by now? Her emergence through the rift in time had caused a backwash of power that he must certainly have sensed, had he been lurking in or beneath the Academy. Perhaps there would be time after all to deal with Vannor and Anvar—then once her pawns were in place, it wouldn’t matter if she had to leave the city and hide in safety elsewhere. Everything hinged on Vannor. If she could only act quickly enough ...
Sadly, swift action was impossible. In reality, three or four anxious days—she was so busy that she almost lost count—were to pass before the Mage was ready.
At last! Eliseth thought with relief. After tonight I can find somewhere safe.—The night was old, with but an hour or so still remaining before the sky would begin to grow light. Unseen in the darkness, Eliseth glided along the mossy path that led up from the river and through the gardens of Vannor’s mansion.—She approached within an arm’s length of the sentry, and still he did not notice her. Dear Gods, however had these pathetic creatures ever ended up ruling her city? Eliseth reached out a hand in passing-and touched the man’s face.
“Shit!”
The guard started and spun around, his sword leaping out of his scabbard in a single fluid motion as he turned. He saw nothing. By that time, the Mage was gone. From several yards away, she heard his companion’s voice.
“Thara’s titties! What in perdition do you think you’re doing, waving that sword around?”
“But I felt something touch me,” the other protested. “Something brushed my face.”
“Oh for pity’s sake, don’t be so bloody feeble—it was probably just a moth.—It’s bad enough being stuck out here on duty in all this wet, without you seeing sodding fairies....”
Their voices faded in the distance as Eliseth left them and made her way up through the shrubbery, heading for the great house itself. She was glad of the drizzling overcast that deepened the gloom of the night. She was using an Air spell to diffuse the light around her silhouette, and as long as the moon did not show itself from behind the low clouds, she was fairly confident that she would not be seen.
Eliseth had given careful thought to this plan. Vannor was too well guarded to be approached directly—she would never be able to get him alone, as Bern had been, so that she could slay him by magical means. Besides, she did not want the Mortals to know that she had returned to their world, and if she used her powers against the upstart ruler of Nexis, her secret would be out. She had more sense than to try a physical attack against Vannor. Even one-handed, he was stronger and more experienced with weaponry than she. There was just too much that could go wrong.
There was more than one way, however, to kill a Mortal—and in fact it was Bern’s late and unlamented wife who had given her the idea. In the Mage’s pocket was a small vial containing poison made according to instructions from one of the scrolls in the library, and concocted from ingredients found in Meiriel’s infirmary. The last days had been spent in experimentation on the rats and other vermin that infested the Academy, until she was sure she had it right. According to the records there was no antidote. Of course, in order to make sure that her poison reached its intended victim, she would probably have to kill everyone in the merchant’s household—but so what? They were only Mortals, after all. The lethal liquid was colorless and tasteless, and much to Eliseth’s satisfaction it was slow-acting, so that Vannor would take a long and painful time to die. At last he would suffer the death his perfidious daughter had prevented so long ago—but Zanna would not be able to save him this time.