"And what are they?" Celeste asked.
"You're forgetting the orb," the wizard answered. "Once he has landed on Eutracian shores, Wulfgar's battle plan will probably be threefold. First, he will divide his forces. He will lead one group to the pass to take control of the azure wall. A second group-probably under the control of his Black Ship captains-will search out the Orb of the Vigors in order to protect it from us at all costs. Wulfgar will turn his remaining legions south to Tammerland, to crush those of us who remain loyal to the Vigors. And as the polluted waters of the Sippora finally reach us, much of the city will go up in flames, only adding to Wulfgar's chances of success." He paused for a moment as he looked around the table.
"I doubt that even my powers combined with those of Faegan, Jessamay, and all the acolytes could effectively disperse the river's heat," he continued gravely. "As the refugees flood in and the city becomes a fortress, food and water will quickly grow short. Riots will break out. I know," he added sadly. "I have seen it all before."
His thoughts went back to those dark days when the Coven had nearly taken the capital.
"It seems that it is all about to happen again, old friend," Wigg said to Faegan. "We must prepare for a siege. If Wulfgar has already left the Citadel, we have little time to prepare. His Black Ships can travel much faster than his demonslaver ships, or anything that Tyranny has in her fleet."
Taking a deep breath, Faegan nodded.
"I don't understand," Shailiha protested. "Wulfgar wants to protect the orb? And from us? What in the name of the Afterlife are you talking about? I thought Wulfgar and the Heretics wanted the Orb of the Vigors destroyed!"
Suddenly understanding, Tristan nodded his head. "They do," he mused. He looked over at his sister.
"Don't you see?" he asked her. "Wulfgar doesn't need to destroy the orb; it's accomplishing that task on its own. If your blood and mine only can accept the powerful Forestallment that will save it, then Wulfgar will do everything in his power to try to keep us away from it."
"That's right," Faegan said. "And that is why we must hit him with everything we have when his forces are divided and he is at his weakest. If he reaches the wall and parts it, I fear that no power on earth will be able to stop him."
For several moments the only sounds came from the wood burning in the fireplace, and the happy gurgling of Morganna as she played on the floor.
"These horrors from the other side of the Tolenkas," Tyranny said,
"what are they likely to be?"
Wigg shook his head. "That is impossible to say," he replied. "The Heretics were the originators of the Vagaries, and we have always believed their gifts to be massive-far outstripping our own."
Tristan took Celeste's hand. Sighing, he looked down for a moment.
"So much of this is about me, isn't it?" he asked. "It all hinges on returning my blood to its original state. Supposedly only the Scroll Master can provide us with the calculations for the Forestallment that we need. But despite our trip to the Recluse, we're no closer to finding him than we were. The spell might be somewhere in the Scroll of the Vigors, but at least one-third of the scroll has been destroyed. For all we know, the calculations we need were destroyed with it that same night. Search the scroll as hard as we might, it could still all be for naught."
Faegan looked at Jessamay. "Do you have any idea what Failee meant about the Scroll Master guarding something called the Well of Forestallments?"
Jessamay shook her head. "Not really. Only that the Scroll Master was supposedly the world's greatest keeper of Forestallments. I have no idea what that means. And I have no idea what the Well of Forestallments might be. Failee claimed that they both resided in Eutracia. But I don't think that even she knew where, because she said that once Eutracia was hers, she planned to search him out and torture his knowledge from him." She was quiet for a moment, her forehead wrinkled with thought as she searched her memories. "She did say one other thing: that the Scroll Master could be found via the River of Thought, whatever that is."
Wigg and Faegan exchanged glances.
"Are you sure that's what she called it?" Wigg asked quickly.
The sorceress nodded. "Reasonably sure."
Faegan leaned eagerly across the table. "Did she say anything else about it?"
"Only one thing," Jessamay answered. "She said that the basic calculations for the River of Thought carried with them many subdisciplines, all of which could be found in the scrolls. One of these was said to be particular to the Scroll Master-that the bearer of the Forestallment would be drawn to the Scroll Master. That's all I know about it."
Stunned, Faegan sat back in his chair. "I've seen it," he said quietly, half to himself.
"What!" Wigg exclaimed. "What do you mean, 'You've seen it'?"
"When I found the calculations in the scroll that allowed you to call the acolytes home," Faegan said, "I saw others listed as well. I paid them little heed, because I felt sure I had already found the one I needed. One of those subdisciplines must be for the Scroll Master!"
"Then our path is clear," Tristan said firmly. "You must immediately imbue my blood with this Forestallment so that I can search for him."
To his great surprise, both wizards shook their heads.
"We can't do that," Wigg said.
Tristan scowled. "And why not?"
"For the same reason that we cannot train you right now," Faegan answered. "As long as your blood is azure, we can't know what effects our use of the craft might have on you. Despite the desperate nature of our situation, we cannot risk losing the Jin'Sai. Especially now."
"But Failee was successful in granting Tristan Forestallments," Abbey countered. "If she could do it, then why can't we?"
"The prince's Forestallments were granted to him in the Recluse, before his blood changed to azure," Wigg reminded her. "No, Faegan is right. As tempting as it might be, we simply cannot risk it."
The First Wizard looked over at Faegan. "I'm sure that you will agree with me when I say that I should carry the Forestallment," Wigg said. "I have already employed the River of Thought, and I am familiar with its use. Therefore, augmenting my already existing Forestallment with the subdiscipline for the Scroll Master should be relatively simple-should one care to call it that. And then the prince will accompany me, as my blood searches out the Scroll Master."
After thinking it over for a few moments, Faegan finally nodded his agreement.
Wigg turned toward Tristan. "It seems that you and I are about to go on another adventure."
Tristan nodded, but he felt torn. He knew how important it was for him to go with Wigg. But with Wulfgar on the way, part of the prince wanted to remain here to lead the Minions into battle. And he hated the idea of leaving Celeste. Would she still be alive when they came home? He couldn't bear the thought of losing her-or of her facing death without him or her father by her side. Then he had an idea. With hope in his eyes, he looked at Wigg.
"We should take Celeste with us," he said. "Every moment is precious. If we are successful with the Scroll Master, then I could help her right then and there, without having to first return to the palace. This makes the most sense, does it not?"
"You must have been reading my mind," Wigg said with a smile.
"Of course she should come with us. We will go together in a Minion litter."
"Begging your pardon, First Wizard, but taking a litter won't work," Adrian interjected. "You will need to go by horseback."
Wigg's right eyebrow arched upward. "And just why is that?"
"The flying Minions' pace will overcome the workings of the spell," she answered. "When you employed the River of Thought to bring the acolytes home, we found that we all shared something in common-an undeniable need to come as quickly as we could. Of course, that meant riding at a gallop. But every time we did, each of us seemed to somehow outpace the spell and we lost the feeling. When we slowed back down, the feeling reemerged. Flying Minions will be unencumbered by the lay of the land, able to fly in a straight line. Even bearing a litter, they will go too fast. And flying in circles just to slow down will end up exhausting them."