"We'll find a way to get it back," Seiveril said. "At moonrise I will pray to Corellon Larethian, and prepare divinations to find out who stole the crystal and where they're hiding. We'll assemble an expedition of our best warriors and mages. Whomever dared attack Evermeet herself will not enjoy their success for long."
He passed a hand over his face, his expression grim.
Araevin glanced at Ilsevele and saw that her jaw was set in a determined frown as well. Three years before, Ilyy-ela Miritar-Seiveril's wife, and Ilsevele's mother-had died during the war launched by the traitorous sun elf Kymil Nimesin. Ilyyela had perished in the catastrophic attack against the Towers of the Sun and Moon. It did not take a sharp mind to guess that Seiveril was sickened by the thought of another attack against Evermeet, following so quickly on the heels of the recent war.
"There is one more thing, Lord Seiveril," he said. "When I found Philaerin, he was dead, but he had managed to hide something from his attackers-a telkiira". Araevin reached into the pouch at his belt and produced the small, dark stone. In the daylight of the study, the faint violet gleam in its heart was almost invisible. "Philaerin concealed the gemstone in an extradimensional space. I noticed the spell and dispelled it when we found his body. I do not know for certain, but it seems likely that the high mage deemed this too important to fall into enemy hands and hid it as quickly as he could."
"A telkiira?" Seiveril looked up. Araevin handed him the lorestone, and the noble studied it, peering into its depths. "I have not seen one like this before. Do you have any idea what it holds?"
He passed the loregem to Ilsevele, who held it up between her thumb and forefinger and peered closely at it.
"No," Araevin answered, shaking his head. "Philaerin never mentioned it before. I saw several other telkiira that he kept, but never that one."
"Strange. I think there is lettering in the stone," Ilsevele said. She looked closer. "Yes, there is. If you stare closely at the flicker in the depths of the gem, it seems to form itself into sigils or runes."
"Be careful!" Araevin said. "Magic runes can hold terrible spells. I'd better have a look at that."
"I know," Ilsevele said, but she recoiled and quickly handed it back to Araevin. "It seems safe enough to handle, anyway. Are you sure you can spot any dangerous sigils before they're triggered?"
"I know a spell or two that can unravel magical traps of that sort." Araevin thought for a moment, and wove a spell of deciphering with a few adroit passes of his hand and whispered words of arcane power. Then he held the loregem up to his eye and looked closely.
At first he saw little more than a dark purple blur, speckled with glimmers of lighter violet from the inner facets of the stone. Then he caught sight of the strange inner gleam, and fixed his eye on that. Instantly the wavering, inconstant flicker grew sharp and clear, forming itself into the shape of a rune that Araevin knew: dramach. It was a rune of sealing, a potent defense against intrusion.
Runes and magical signs used as seals could often be bypassed or neutralized by naming them.
Should I proceed? he wondered. Philaerin may have locked this stone for good reason.
On the other hand he would be able to form a much better guess as to the significance of the telkiira if he viewed its contents.
Without looking away from the rune glowing in the stone's depths, he said its name softly: "Dramach"
The room whirled m amp;dly as he felt himself fall into the gem.
Light exploded in his head as a procession of brilliant, burning symbols flashed before his eyes. He caught glimpses of thoughts and knowledge that were not his own, fragments of arcane formulae, images of people and places he did not know-a hoary, vine-grown tower in a black forest, a proud sun elf whose eyes gleamed green in a darkened room, a pale hand arranging three stones identical to the one he held in a wooden case, the sudden appearance of an even larger loregem, the sound of a dozen voices chanting together in some sort of rite. Then the burning symbols returned, pressing themselves indelibly into his mind one at a time, each searing a word of power into his brain.
"Araevin!" Ilsevele cried out in concern. Araevin blinked his eyes clear of the hurtful vision, and found himself sitting awkwardly on the floor, the telkiira gripped in his fist. "Araevin! Can you hear me? Are you hurt?"
He stirred slowly, gestured for patience, then said, "No, I am not hurt. The telkiira transferred its knowledge to me. The experience is a little unsettling."
"You are fortunate that it was not trapped as you had feared," Seiveril observed. He reached down and helped Araevin to his feet. "You frightened us, Araevin. You simply crumpled without a word. We thought you'd been enspelled."
Araevin said, "Give me a moment. I will be fine." He gingerly felt his way over to the divan and sat down.
"What did you see in the stone?" Ilsevele asked.
"I am not exactly sure… a tower, a pale hand… three stones like this one, and a larger stone with a purple star in its heart. I do not understand it."
Araevin took a deep breath, and carefully called to mind the bright symbols he'd seen.
Spells, he realized. The telkiira holds the formulae for a number of spells.
Like a great book, the gemstone recorded page after page of arcane words, lists of reagents, and the directions for casting each of the spells it contained. The spells themselves had not been impressed into his mind. Araevin would have to study the words and gather the reagents in order to make use of any of them, just as he did any time he studied his own spellbook and prepared his spells. But he had unlocked the description of the telkiira's contents, and he could access anything within the lorestone.
He turned his attention to the spells first. The stone held seven of them, he saw. Several he knew already-or, to be more precise, were recorded in the spellbooks he carried in his well-protected rucksack. The spells of tele-portation, lightning, the terrible prismatic blast… all were quite common among reasonably skillful wizards, so Araevin was not at all surprised to find that the telkiira held their formulae. Whomever had created the lorestone long ago had naturally recorded useful spells.
He called to mind the remaining symbols he'd seen in his flash of insight, and recognized two more spells that he knew of but had not yet mastered: a spell that could be used to conjure up powerful, and often dangerous creatures from other planes of existence, and another that could cripple one's enemies with nothing more than a single deadly word of power. But the last two spells in the stone he had never even heard of before. One seemed to be a spell that would turn an enemy's own spell shields and protective mantles against him-a very useful spell for a wizards' duel, to say the least. The last spell was incomplete. Araevin frowned and directed his attention at it again, confirming his initial impression. The telkiira recorded only a portion of the spell. The rest of the spell was not there.
"What is it, Araevin?" Seiveril asked. "What have you learned?"
"The telkiira records six spells, and part of a seventh," Araevin answered. "That is not unusual. I've heard of elf wizards using telkiira as spellbooks." He glanced down at the lorestone in his hand. The lambent light in its heart seemed to flicker a little brighter. "But there is something else here, too. This stone is part of a set. There are two more just like it, and there is a fourth stone as well, larger and more perilous than the others. I think it might be a selukiira".
"A high loregem?" Seiveril said. The older elf tapped a finger on his chin. "That would be a prize, would it not? Now I think I see why Philaerin might have chosen to hide this telkiira".
"What is a selukiira?" Ilsevele asked.