“The technical term is ‘self-pity,’ Boss.”
“Did I ask for the technical term?”
“Hello, Vlad,” said the Necromancer, in that strange, almost hollow-sounding voice of hers, with her eyes looking more through me than at me.
“Hello,” I said, resisting the urge to growl.
Aliera was standing next to her, and nodded me a cool hello. “How’s the arm?” she said.
“It twitched.”
“Good,” said Aliera. “I was hoping it would do that.”
Bloody great.
Sethra said, “Have you explained what we require of the Necromancer?”
“No,” said Aliera. “I thought I’d leave that to you.”
“Very well. While I do so, I think you know what your next task is.”
“Yes,” said Aliera. “I shall attend to it at once.”
Sethra nodded, and Aliera took two steps forward, one step to the side, and vanished as if she had stepped through an invisible doorway.
Sethra Lavode turned to the Necromancer, and I suddenly had the feeling that I was present at one of those great historical moments that you read about, wishing you were there. Here was the Enchantress of Dzur Mountain explaining to the Necromancer the plan of campaign against the ancient enemies of the Dragaeran race. This might be one of the great turning points in the history of the Empire. It seemed incumbent on me to say something to undercut to the whole significance of it, but nothing came to mind.
The two pale, black-clad undead women regarded each other—thin faces, ancient eyes; sort of a strange mirror image. Sethra was perhaps a little taller, and her hair was a bit darker and longer; the Necromancer gave the appearance of a little more age, though this was illusory. In addition, though I knew Sethra was a vampire, the Necromancer looked like one—so pale, wasted, drawn; like someone in the last stages of some horrible disease.
“We are expecting an attack from the Jenoine,” said Sethra.
“Where?”
“The site of Adron’s Disaster.”
The Necromancer’s eyebrows went up. “Is it unprotected?”
“Yes. The other has been protected all along, almost by accident, as it were. And it never occurred to me to look for an attack that way.”
The Necromancer nodded, closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them. “Nothing yet,” she said.
“Are you certain?”
The Necromancer frowned and said, “What do you mean?”
“Look again. Look for anything that doesn’t belong.”
“Very well,” she said. Then, “Oh.”
“They are tapping it?”
“Someone is. It will take a while to find out where it is going, but it certainly seems like their workmanship.”
Sethra nodded. “I suspected it, from what Vlad told me. They are evidently collecting it in quantity.”
“Collecting it? Raw?”
“So it would seem.”
“How are they keeping it unstable?”
“They have found a large piece of trellanstone, and use it to keep the amorphia flowing, rather like a stream, from what Vlad and Teldra said.”
“I see. Yes, that might work, if you had someone monitoring it at all times, and if it was physically near the trellanstone.”
“The stream ran within a few hundred feet of it.”
The Necromancer nodded. “This could be a real problem,” she said, almost as if she cared. “Have they stirred?”
“They have indeed. Morrolan and Aliera were taken, Verra threatened—yes, they are stirring.”
“Then they are ready with their stroke.”
“So it would seem. Except that we have freed Morrolan and Aliera; I don’t know how that will change their plans. But we have to assume they’re still going ahead with it.”
“Very well,” said the Necromancer. “What do you require? I can cut their access easily enough.”
“Insufficient,” said Sethra. “Can you keep them out of the area?”
The Necromancer was silent for a moment; then she said, I don’t know. It’s so large. Thirty-five or forty square miles, the last time I looked.”
“Yes,” said Sethra. “The Empress will almost certainly be willing to help.”
“Then perhaps,” said the Necromancer.
“If you cannot keep them out, do you think you could, perhaps, keep them in?”
The Necromancer frowned. “One of them, certainly. Ten or twelve of them, all with access to the power of the amorphia, impossible. But the same set of enchantments can be used in both directions.”
“All right,” said Sethra. “Good. You ought to start your preparations at once. In the meantime, I need to be there, along with Morrolan, Aliera, and whoever else we can gather together quickly. How much time will you need?”
“I don’t know. I won’t know until I start. Certainly, several hours, even with the Orb. Possibly a day or two. I wish you had told me sooner.”
“I wish I had realized sooner what they were up to. We cannot wait a day or two before cutting off their link. I’m nervous about waiting even another hour.”
“I shall hurry as much as I can.”
“Yes. We will move as soon as we can, and, if you aren’t ready, then we will endeavor to hold the place until you are.”
The Necromancer nodded and said, “I’ll get started, then.” She turned away without ceremony, took three steps, and sort of faded away in midstride, leaving a trail of golden sparks behind her; possibly for effect, though that didn’t seem like the sort of thing she’d do.
She left the room just as Morrolan returned—he coming in by the door—according to some sort of law of conservation of wizards. The Necromancer left in a shower of sparks; Morrolan appeared with a flapping of wings. Jhereg wings, to be exact. Rocza’s wings, to be precise. Loiosh left my shoulder and flew toward her, the two of them doing a sort of midair dance of greeting, then flying around the room once together before landing on my shoulders, and continuing the reunion with neck and face rubs behind my head. It was all very cute.
“I told you I was cute.”
“I thought you might be missing her,” said Morrolan.
“I was, and so was Loiosh. Thank you from both of us.”
He nodded to me, then faced Sethra and announced, “The Empress agrees.”
“Good,” said Sethra. “So does the Necromancer.”
“I love it when a plan comes together,” I remarked to no one in particular.
Morrolan shrugged and said, “Here, Vlad.” He reached into his cloak and emerged with a bag, which he emptied on the table near my elbow. It contained half a dozen daggers of various sizes. “I thought you might like to restock,” he said, “so I grabbed these from my armory. I don’t know exactly what you like, but one or two of these must be all right.”
“Yes,” I said. “That was very thoughtful of you.” I inspected them, then placed all of them about my person in various ways. It took some work, with only one hand to work with; but this reminded me to make sure they were all accessible to my right hand. That put one behind my back, one between my shoulder blades, one in my right sleeve, well, you get the idea. Having them there made me feel better at once. I stretched my feet out in front of me and leaned back. Sethra said, “You look like a man who isn’t going anywhere, Vlad.”
“Well, I don’t plan on leaving here any time soon. Am I mistaken about something?”
“I had planned to bring us to the site of Adron’s Disaster right away. We don’t know when they will appear; I’d just as soon anticipate them.”
I looked at my left arm, then at Sethra, with what I hoped was an eloquent expression.
She nodded. “I take your point. But Spellbreaker could still be useful, if you can manage to wield it right-handed.”