Tzigone stuffed the cork back into place. She stayed beneath the table and waited for the queen to leave, but the woman seemed content to stare at the window, long after the moon had risen out of view. When Beatrix finally drifted away, Tzigone scooted through the palace to Matteo's room.
He was asleep. She pounced on him, seizing the pillow on either side of his head and giving it a good shake.
The world suddenly turned upside down. Tzigone hit the floor hard, face down. A knee pressed into her back. A strong hand fisted in her hair and turned her head so that one cheek was pressed into the carpet. Another hand pressed a knife to the vein in her throat.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Matteo's face shift from grim, ambushed warrior to its familiar, brotherly exasperation.
"And I thought dwarves woke up grouchy," she commented. "I've found that the best thing to do with dwarves is tire them out and leave while they're still sleeping. Want to hear the details?"
Matteo sighed and let her up. "This had better be important."
She took the cork from her magic mouth bottle and let the damning words spill out.
"What will you do with this?" she asked.
"The only thing I can do," he said heavily. "The truth must be told, and we must trust in Mystra that it will work to the good of Halruaa."
Matteo went to Zalathorm's council chamber first thing that morning. Many of Halruaa's elders were already in attendance, including Basel Indoulur and Procopio Septus. When the king's gaze fell on Matteo, he motioned him forward. The wizard-lords parted to let him pass.
"I have received your report, and spoken with Lord Basel," Zalathorm said in a voice that carried throughout the hall. "You have something more to add?"
"Several things, your majesty. I believe that the elf woman Kiva is raising an army against Halruaa."
The king's lips took a dubious twist. "An army of what? Unseelie folk?"
"Crinti, among others."
"Lord Procopio assures me that there are a few raiders, easily dealt with."
Matteo sent an apologetic nod toward the hawk-faced wizard. "If there were just a few raiders, why would Kiva go to such lengths to provide a means of containing them?" He told them of Dhamari's spell and the dark fairies Tzigone had inadvertently summoned. "It seems to me that Kiva has prepared one brush fire as a back burn against another. Once the Crinti have served their purpose, summoning the Unseelie folk would drive the shadow amazons back over the mountains. Why else would Kiva place Crinti encampments among the most haunted hills?"
Zalathorm nodded. "Lord Procopio?"
The diviner's face was livid and tight-lipped. "It is possible, my lord," he admitted. "It is a reasonable strategy."
"What say you, Dhamari?"
Matteo caught his breath. Dhamari was here, in the king's council chamber? He followed the path of many eyes as they turned upon the self-conscious wizard.
"The young jordain's suspicions are not without foundation," Dhamari began. "Many years ago, Kiva and I were apprentices together. We joined in a miscast spell that summoned an imp. Matteo knew of this. Naturally, he might wonder if the association between Kiva and me continued. Lord Basel will attest that this is not so, by the word of Azuth's inquisitors."
"Basel?" the king asked, turning to the flamboyant conjurer.
The wizard confirmed this with a curt nod. "He was tested."
"The spell that inadvertently summoned the dark folk was adapted from a banishing," Dhamari continued. "I haven't the talent to cast it, so I could not know precisely what it would do, but I will swear by wizard-word oath that the casting of this spell was not intended to aid the traitor Kiva!"
The king listened to this recitation with an inscrutable face. "You defend yourself well," he said. "Now, Matteo. You said that the Crinti were merely the start of Kiva's army. Say on."
"Kiva almost certainly commanded the raid upon the Lady's Mirror. She also has access to the gate to the Plane of Water. If she commands Crinti and wild elves, who knows what other forces she may have."
"This is preposterous!" sputtered one of the wizard-lords who awaited the king's attention. "Throughout King Zalathorm's reign, he has never failed to predict a threat!"
A murmur of assent went through the chamber, but the king lifted a hand to silence it. "Halruaa remains at peace through the vigilance of all her wizard-lords and their jordaini. If there is a threat, let us work to perceive it."
The keen focus of the king's eyes slipped into haze, as if he were studying something far away. After a few moments he shook his head, frowning deeply. "There is a subtle veil over the recent past and the near future, one I cannot pierce and the likes of which I have never encountered. This is a matter for the full council."
Zalathorm motioned to a courtier, who slipped from the room and returned with a large amber sphere. As soon as Zalathorm's fingertips brushed the globe, a similar golden light touched the hand of each wizard present. Every member of Halruaa's Council of Elders wore a golden ring set with a tiny amber globe, so that Zalathorm could communicate with all his wizards at once.
"Lords and ladies, your presence is required immediately in the king's council chamber," he said somberly. "Come by the swiftest magic available to you."
The courtiers in the room hurried for the doors, not wishing to be trampled by wizards who wished to prove themselves swifter than their fellows.
"There is more, Your Majesty," Matteo said, "best spoken in private."
"It will wait," Zalathorm told him. The members of the Council of Elders began to fill the chamber.
When the room was full nearly to bursting, the king described Matteo's concerns and the strange film he himself felt over the future. At his command, glowing green runes appeared in the air. "This is a spell of divination. We will chant it as one. Perhaps together we can see where one man cannot."
Matteo's gaze shifted to Procopio Septus. The glare he threw at Matteo was pure venom.
The rhythm for the casting had begun. Zalathorm took up a staff and marked a steady beat against the floor. The sound resounded through the room, growing steadily louder as the wizards silently read the words of the spell.
Chanting filled the room, and the green-glowing runes grew steadily brighter. The colors shifted into a rainbow, which slowly spread out like a tapestry of light. Woven upon it in threads of magic was the image of a massive force gathering at the foothills of the mountains.
The chanting died away, engulfed by the horrified gasps that swept the room.
"Halruaa is about to be invaded!" one of the wizards blurted.
"Not so." Matteo stepped forward and pointed to the shimmering tapestry. "This peak is Jhiridial, in the eastern wall. Note the sun: It rises behind the mountains."
"Lady Mystra," Zalathorm swore softly, understanding Matteo's point. "Those troops are not on the far side of the mountain wall! They stand upon Halruaa herself!"
Matteo nodded. "The invasion has already begun."
Chapter Twenty-Two
Fury washed through Procopio's blood like molten steel. He stood before the king in what should have been the defining moment of his life. Thanks to that accursed Matteo, all his plans and dreams were slipping through his fingers like water!
Yet he might still salvage something of this. "Your Majesty, I will lead a skyship fleet into the Nath to repel the Crinti, then meet your army at the eastern wall."