Morrolan said, “Witchcraft is a process of understanding and changing—the more you understand a thing, the more you can change it, and the more you work to change it, the more deeply you understand it. Sorcery is a process of correspondence—the minute amounts of energy generated by the mind must be made to correspond to the Orb, which in turn permits the release of the energy contained in the Sea of Amorphia, and this energy thus becomes available to use to manipulate the world.”
“You should have been a teacher.”
He ignored me. “That rock you describe contains an ore that has the property of resonating with amorphia, and with our minds; that is why the Orb was constructed from it.”
“All right, I can see that. Mmmm. I imagine it is rare?”
“It only appears as a gift from the gods.”
“Okay, that would be rare. Is it sentient?”
“How could it be sentient?”
“You’re right,” I said. “Stupid question.” I don’t know if he caught the irony, but I’m fairly sure Aliera did; she smirked. I continued, “All right, I think I see a bit of how the parts fit together. Now: Why would the jenoine put us in a room with this in it?”
He didn’t have an answer for that one. Morrolan has always been better at understanding how objects work than how other beings are thinking.
Teldra said, “They don’t think the way we do.” Because it was Teldra, I didn’t make any remarks. She continued, “They don’t consider us enemies in the same way we consider them enemies; nor do they see us as threats. They worry about our escaping the way one might worry about a pet greeterbird making its way out of its cage; and they worry about our damaging their artifacts the way one might worry about a pet kitten getting into the jewelry box. By sealing the area against necromantic gates, and laying a mild glamour on us so that we cannot see the objects in the room, they believe they have done enough.”
There was a moment of silence; then Morrolan cleared his throat. “How long have you known this?” he said.
“I suppose, in a way, since I spoke to them. What I have just told you, my lord, only occurred to me this instant. I am still considering the matter and trying to understand, but it seems to me that they spoke to me—insofar as I could perceive tone—in the tone one might use to, well, a greeterbird. They were amused that I could form any sort of coherent thought; they think we’re cute.”
“Cute,” said Aliera e’Kieron.
“Cute,” said Morrolan e’Drien.
“I am cute,” said Loiosh.
I said, “And that didn’t, uh, annoy you at all?”
“I thought it interesting,” said Teldra. “Actually, I didn’t put it together in exactly that way; I’ve been thinking about it since the conversation, and that is my conclusion.”
“Hmmmm,” I said.
“Cute,” repeated Aliera.
“All right,” said Morrolan. “I think we can accept that. So, what do we do?”
“Kill them,” said Aliera.
Morrolan rolled his eyes. “Of course we’re going to kill them,” he said. “I meant, how?”
“I wonder,” said Aliera, and her voice trailed off.
Morrolan waited, then said, “Yes?”
Aliera hesitated, then finally said, “Do you suppose, if Vlad were to strike us with Spellbreaker, it would break the glamour on us?”
Morrolan frowned his thoughtful frown. I contemplated giving Morrolan and Aliera a good, hard whack apiece, and tried to refrain from smiling. Morrolan said, “I believe it would be less likely to remove the glamour than to, uh, damage many of the items you and I carry about with us, if you understand what I mean.”
Aliera nodded. Oh, well. I wouldn’t have enjoyed hitting Teldra anyway.
“But,” said Morrolan, “I do want some way to remove the glamour; that stone could be very useful. And, perhaps, some of the other things in here could be useful as well. Have you any ideas, cousin?”
She shook her head. Then Lady Teldra cleared her throat; conversation stopped and we all stared at her. It would have been terribly embarrassing if she’d had nothing more than the need to clear her throat. But, no, she said, “It is just possible that the stone itself could help.”
Aliera frowned. “I don’t understand. If we can’t even see it ... ?” She was a lot more polite than she’d have been asking that question of Morrolan or me.
Teldra said, “Vlad can see it.”
Morrolan scowled. “The air in this place must slow my brain down. You’re right, of course.”
I cleared my throat; quite a different effect than when Teldra did it. “Uh ... what exactly does this involve?”
“Nothing you haven’t done before,” said Morrolan.
“Heh. There are many things I’ve done before—”
“You must let me see through your eyes,” he said. “It is a simple enough spell, as you recall.”
“Yeah, I know that. But there’s a no sorcery here. Can we do it with pure psychic energy?”
“Not reliably enough,” he said. “But we have no need to.”
“Oh? Without sorcery, what do you use as a link?”
For answer, he drew Blackwand. I recoiled instinctively from the assault on my mind—the feeling, something in between hearing and smell, of a hungry animal; a feeling that has to have been built into me at some level of instinct or below, that made me aware of the sweat in my armpits, and how hard it was to breathe, and made the room, however large it was, seem too close.
Suddenly I wasn’t having fun anymore. “I’d rather not touch the blade, if it’s all the same to you,” I said.
He seemed amused; maybe it was his turn to have fun. He said, “Well, I’m certainly not going to let you hold her.”
“I—”
“Don’t worry; she doesn’t bite.”
I stared at the dark, dull grey blade, then back at Morrolan. “Yeah, right.”
“Do it, Vlad.”
“I—”
“Do it.”
I took a deep breath, hesitated, then laid my palm on the blade quickly, before I could think about it too much. It was faintly warm, which metal isn’t supposed to be. And it almost seemed as if it were vibrating, or trembling, just a little.
“Okay, dammit, do it before—”
“Keep still, Vlad. I have to concentrate.”
I tried to keep my growl inaudible.
Loiosh’s feet shifted on my shoulder; he wasn’t liking this either. I can’t say why, and it doesn’t make sense, but that made me feel a little better.
The most terrifying things, in some ways, are those that catch us off guard—a shock out of nowhere, danger unanticipated, all that. And yet, in other ways, to see something coming, know it is about to happen, and be unable to prevent it has its own special terror. But there are times—rare, but they happen when you see the danger before you, it builds up, you brace yourself—and then it’s over, before you had time to really get a good scare going, much less the unpleasantness that you were scared of.
This was like that.
Morrolan said, “Okay, I’m done.”
“You’re done?”
“Yes.”
“That’s it?” Even as I questioned him, my hand was free from that blade, jumping off as if of its own volition. “That’s it,” said Morrolan.
“Uh ... did it work?”
He nodded and turned to Aliera. “All right, cousin. Your turn.”
“I don’t feel any different,” I said.
They ignored me. Loiosh said, “Boss, it would be Morrolan who feels different.”
“Oh,” I said. “Yeah, I knew that.”
Now Aliera drew Pathfinder, but she swung it over toward Morrolan; it no longer had anything to do with me, so I was free to back away. I did so.
Presently, Aliera turned to Lady Teldra. “This will be trickier,” she said.
Teldra nodded and came forward; I didn’t want to watch, so I walked over to Morrolan. “Well?” I said.