Abbey's face grew hard. Her hands were balled up into fists, her knuckles white. Then she thought for a moment, and looked to Faegan.
"Just because you can't enter his mind now, that doesn't mean that at the time of their application our efforts weren't successful, right?" she mused. "In fact, how could they not have been? For all we know, the map might well be genuine."
Faegan nodded. "Or a complete fabrication," he warned.
Traax stepped forward. "There's one way to find out!" he said harshly. "Leave me alone with this animal! I'll get the truth out of him!"
Swiveling around in his chair, Faegan looked at Traax. He knew that the warrior meant well, but he obviously hadn't thought his plan through.
"Don't you see?" the wizard asked softly. "That won't do any good."
"And just why not?" Traax demanded. He glared hatefully up through the stone bars at Uther. "Just give me the chance. We Minions have many ways of being persuasive, I assure you."
"Oh, I'm quite sure that you do," Faegan answered. "And I can think of nothing just now that would give me greater pleasure. But tell me, no matter how he answers, how will you know-really know-it's the truth?"
Traax scowled. "I see your point." He sighed. "But surely there must be something we can do."
"There is," Abbey said.
Faegan smiled, for he already knew the answer. "Tell us."
"We fly around to the entrance, and we force Uther to lead us through," she answered. She looked over at Sister Adrian. "That was the other reason I brought him-in case all else failed."
"Well done," Faegan said. He looked at Traax again.
"I think we have no choice but to accept those volunteers of yours," he said. "They will, of course, have to come from the other side of the lattice. Limit their number to two. Uther is unable to use the craft, so only physical restraint is needed. I will keep the map with me. Tell your volunteers to make a mark on the wall at every turn." Then he grinned at the Valrenkian.
"What say you, Uther?" he asked sarcastically. "Are you game for a little walk?"
Seething, the Valrenkian snarled something under his breath. The wizard only smiled.
"I'll take that as a yes," he said.
He turned back to Abbey and Adrian. "Ask for two Minion volunteers from your side of the lattice," he ordered. "Once you have sent them in with Uther, come to the top of the bluffs near the maze opening on our side. We will meet you there, to wait and watch. Then it will be out of our hands."
As Abbey's group started to soar away, the wizard lowered his chair to the ground. Duvessa, Traax, and Ox walked over. Duvessa placed one hand upon the old wizard's shoulder.
"Is this really going to work?" she asked.
Faegan sighed. "It has to," he answered. "Because if it doesn't we're going to be here for a very long time."
As a group, the warriors and the wizard headed for the dark, square-cut portal in the bluffs.
CHAPTER LV
"Are you quite sure you wish…to go alone?" Alrik asked. Trying to steady himself, he placed a meaty hand against the wall. Screwing up his face, he blinked. It was all he could do to remain standing. He let go a wet belch, then wiped his mouth with the back of one hand. Despite the fact that he had just been rude in the presence of the First Wizard, he laughed a little-something he would have never done had he been sober.
Wigg couldn't be angry with him. The impromptu feast that had been arranged in celebration of Tristan and Celeste's marriage had gone on for hours, and every Minion and Gallipolai stationed in and around the Recluse had gladly attended. Alrik had given a drunken toast that seemed to go on forever.
Tristan, Celeste, Wigg, and Jessamay had sat at the table of honor, and gifts had been presented to the bride and groom. For a time, at least, the dancing, drinking, and feasting had provided a welcome respite from their troubles. It was now nearly midnight, and everyone was asleep save for Wigg, Alrik, and a complement of patrolling-and sober-warriors.
"Don't worry, I'll be fine," Wigg answered. "I see you brought what I asked for."
Alrik nodded. After fumbling about, he clumsily produced the empty canteen. He put its strap around Wigg's neck, then smiled stupidly again. Another fragrant belch followed. Wigg winced.
"I can't understand why you want to go back down there alone, Wirst Fizard," he said numbly. "And with an empty canteen, of all things."
Wigg gave him a wink. "Wirst Fizard's business," he said. "I should be back before the Jin'Sai and his new bride awaken. If anyone asks, tell them the truth-that I went for a walk. When I return, the three of us will need an escort back to Master Faegan's portal. We must arrive there by high noon, when it is due to open."
Alrik tried to click his heels, but almost fell down. Clutching at Wigg's robe, he did his best to straighten up. His breath was awful. Wigg averted his face.
"I live to serve," Alrik said.
Turning awkwardly, the warrior walked back down the hall. The wizard smiled as he heard Alrik begin to belt out yet another Minion drinking song. The singing soon faded away.
Wigg pointed one hand toward the dark passageway and brought the radiance stones to light. Then he reached under his robe to make sure that the rolled-up parchment was still there.
He was tired, and the walk down and back would be a long one. He didn't relish going but knew it had to be done. The idea had come to him during the celebration. He wanted to take something of this place back to Eutracia with him, something that he thought would be of help-especially if things were about to become as serious as he feared. Taking a deep breath, he started down.
He was very pleased that Tristan and Celeste had married. But his heart was troubled over his daughter's worsening condition. He could see the changes rapidly taking place, and it was breaking his heart.
He had much to worry him. Jessamay had told him all she knew about the Well of Forestallments, but it wasn't much. The two of them had pored over parts of Failee's grimoire to learn the secret of Jessamay's altered blood signature, an aberration they were sure was of immense importance to the craft. And in his heart he was equally sure that the Orb of the Vigors continued its rampage across Eutracia. He could only hope that Faegan and the other members of the Conclave were having a better time of things.
He shook his head. It was all such a great riddle-the craft, Eutracia, Parthalon, the two orbs, and most certainly the possibility of Wulfgar's survival. Some of these puzzles were new, and some far, far older than he. He had already lived for more than three hundred years, been instrumental in the victory in the Sorceresses' War, and personally overseen the births of the Jin'Sai and the Jin'Saiou. Even so, sometimes he felt much more like a pawn in this amazing confluence of riddles than he did a figure of any great importance.
He finally reached the bottom of the stairs and crossed the first room. The silence was deafening. He stopped in the second room and looked around. He was relieved to see that everything was as he hoped it would be.
He produced the parchment and read aloud the incantation recorded on it in Old Eutracian, copied from Failee's grimoire.
A haunting azure cloud began to form in the air before him. When he finished the recitation, he rolled up the parchment and put it away.
Closing his eyes for a moment, the First Wizard took a deep breath. This would have to be done very carefully. He removed the canteen from around his neck.
The cloud beside him, Wigg set about his work.