The mountains had come close to putting an end not only to the Magewoman’s plans, but to her life. Eliseth had never been taught how to survive in the wild. She had been unprepared for the bitter cold, the hard, bleak surroundings, and the exhaustion that increased following day upon day of hard climbing and the strain and concentration of picking out a safe path. Had it not been for the knowledge she lifted from the minds of her Xandim captives and her ability to control the weather, she would have perished for sure.—When the Weather-Mage finally reached the vicinity of Aerillia, she had killed the two Xandim for good and all this time, enjoying the first hot meal—of horseflesh—that she’d eaten in many a long day. Then, wrapping a concealing mist around herself, she had watched the city and its surrounds in the grail, awaiting her chance. Repeating the successful ploy she’d used to gain control of the Xandim, Eliseth had struck again, finding another solitary victim in a lonely place. This time, it had been a young winged girl, out gathering berries alone on the mountainside. It had been pathetically easy to kill her—she’d scarcely put up any struggle at all. Eliseth had used her victim to take a message to Skua and Sunfeather, then wiped the incident from the girl’s memory. She was living her normal life now in the city: uninvolved, undisturbed—and waiting there as a pawn that could be brought into play at any time, should the Magewoman need her.
At first, Eliseth had toyed with the notion of using the grail to control the Queen herself. On reflection, however, that scheme had involved too many problems. Firstly, all members of the Royal Household would be guarded far too tightly for the Magewoman to gain access and use the grail. Secondly, Raven and Aguila ruled so closely and harmoniously together that if one should begin to act in an unusual manner, the suspicions of the other would be roused at once. She would be forced, therefore, to deal with both at the same time—which brought her back to the first problem. No, it would be far easier for Eliseth to do her work through enemies of the throne—and it would also mean far less risk to herself.
It had been child’s play to recruit the two disgruntled winged men. Skua bore a long-standing grievance against the Queen. According to the High Priest, Raven had undermined his authority right from the start. Though he was aware that much of her hostility toward the Temple stemmed from the heinous acts of Blacktalon, his predecessor, Skua also knew that, if it came to a question of who held the greatest power over the common folk, the contention between Crown and Temple must one day come to a head. Sunfeather’s grudge against Queen Raven had far less to do with the subtleties of politics. He had never forgiven her for that day, so long ago now, when she had humiliated him in front of the High Council. Also, he was consumed by jealousy and bitterly resentful of the lowborn Aguila, who had been raised to the exalted position of Consort to the Queen.
It had not taken the three conspirators long to hatch their plot. An ordinary, everyday harp was obtained and disguised by Eliseth with a small spell of glamourie. Then Skua announced to the congregation in the Temple that the great god Yinze had, in his wisdom, seen fit to return the Harp of Winds into the hands of his children, the Winged Folk. Eliseth, watching from hiding, had used her own powers to produce the carefully staged “miracles” that the harp had wrought.
The Skyfolk were beside themselves: delirious with joy and hope. If one of their race could recover his magical powers, why not all of them? Only the Queen and her consort were unimpressed by Skua’s claims and voiced their doubts aloud, for Raven knew very well what the true Harp looked like, and was also aware that it had been claimed by Anvar in a joining that no Mortal could sunder, be he High Priest or no. Such reasoning, however, was the last thing her subjects wanted to hear.
Almost overnight, the ruler of the Skyfolk discovered that she had lost the support of her subjects. Folk started recirculating the old tale of her association with the groundlings, and Blacktalon’s cohort Harihn. Once again, Raven’s judgment was brought into question. Skua spoke out against her openly, with the public backing of the Syntagma and the Temple guard. Wisely, the Queen and her family had fled Aerillia—just in time to save their own lives.—Well, Eliseth reflected, sipping at her cooling wine, she was not above taking a leaf out of Raven’s book. Timely action, she knew, was the secret to most success—and thanks to the warning of the grail, she knew it was high time she was embarking on the next step of her own plans. “At least it’ll get me out of this dungeon of a room, and this mausoleum of a city,” the Magewoman mused aloud. “I’m looking forward to living in a place where I can actually be warm again.”
Now that Eliseth held power here, her work was done, for she had never actually meant to make herself Queen of this wretched, freezing pile of rock at the tail end of nowhere—nor would the Skyfolk accept as ruler someone who was not one of their own kind. And who wanted to rule a city where they were not even able to go out in public? No, Aerillia had only been a means to an end, and it would serve her purpose quite well if Skua ruled—under her instruction. Eliseth was ready to leave now, and make her way toward the place she’d planned to be the true heart and center of her empire. Dhiammara.—The Magewoman rose and walked to the window, spilling the blanket from her lap to the floor. There was one thing remaining to be done before she left Aerillia. She had no doubt that Aurian would soon discover that she was no longer in the North—if the Mage did not know already. Soon the eyes and thoughts of her enemy would be fixing themselves across the ocean—and before Aurian made a move, it was vital that Eliseth set her spies in place.—Eliseth took up the grail and half-filled it with water, setting the cup down on the table. Then, seating herself comfortably, she gazed into the blackened depths and bent all her thoughts upon Anvar.
For a considerable time, nothing happened. The Magewoman sat there without moving, her head aching with the effort of concentration—and still no vision formed within the cup. What in perdition was wrong? This should not be happening! Eliseth began to feel the stirrings of impatience—and a shadow of doubt. Still she persisted, until the noon sun came blazing through her windows. Its glare almost burned her eyes from her head as the rays struck the surface of the water, and Eliseth sprang back with a livid curse, her carefully constructed shell of concentration in splinters.
The Magewoman couldn’t understand what was happening—she had no way of knowing that the spirit she had hoped to master had not returned to his body after all, and that another had taken Anvar’s place, over whom she had no control.—She only knew that one of her most precious schemes had failed..Snarling another curse, she hurled the grail as hard as she could in temper. It flew across the room, spilling water in a glittering arc. There was a searing flash as it hit the wall and a starburst of cracks snaked out around the impact point. Eliseth gasped in horror as a picture—all too clear—flashed across her mind, of the turret breaking loose from its moorings and crashing in ruin down the mountainside. “Pox rot it—be more careful!” she warned herself. “It’s not a bloody plaything!”
She picked the grail up carefully, checking it for damage and dusting it on the hem of her robe. It pulsed sulkily once or twice, and then became quiet in her hands. Cradling the precious Artifact, Eliseth began to pace the room.—What could she do? She must have a means of discovering her enemy’s movements!—After a time, the answer came to her. She didn’t really hold out much hope, but she could always try Vannor again.
The Magewoman sighed as she refilled the chalice. She had abandoned Vannor long ago. After the blundering imbecile had made such a botch of the attack on the Phaerie, then let himself get captured by Hellorin’s accursed folk, he had no longer been of use to her—not to mention himself or anyone else, she thought spitefully. But it had been a long time since she had even bothered to contact him—maybe something had changed. ... It had better, she thought bitterly. A slender chance indeed, it was her last and only hope. Narrowing her eyes, Eliseth bent over the grail once more and focused her will upon the former High Lord of Nexis.