"I wish I could," she answered sadly. "But the truth is that the translations I did for them were nothing but gibberish to me. They were almost exclusively calculations of the craft. I couldn't understand them. My translations only made their more important work go faster. I not only fear whatever it is they might tell us today, but I am also at a complete loss as to what it might be."
He was about to tell her of his conversation with her father the previous night when Celeste placed her fingertips gently across his lips. As she looked up at him, her face slowly changed. She placed one palm alongside his cheek, and the lids of her sapphire eyes lowered slightly. Her breathing came a bit harder. Her lips parted as her eyes searched his face. Tristan's heart beat faster. He was sure he had never seen such a beautiful woman in his life.
Celeste raised up a bit and kissed him on the lips. As she did, one hand slid down and touched him.
"Please," she asked him softly.
Leaning gently over her, Tristan ran one hand into her thick hair and gazed sharply into her wide, blue eyes. "Are you sure?" he asked.
"More so of this than anything else in my life," she answered. Her mind made up, a look of needful surrender crossed her face.
"Please, Tristan… my love… please teach my desire to fly… to fly on the wings that you alone bring…"
Leaning down closer, he touched his lips to hers.
The wind wafted through the trees, and the birds sang.
L ater, Tristan awakened to find the plaid blanket covering them both. Celeste's naked body felt warm as she slumbered beside him with her head on his shoulder. What had passed between them had been more wonderful than he could ever have imagined.
It was then that he first noticed the soft, azure glow of the craft quietly surrounding them. But it was gone before he could really focus on it. Perhaps he had imagined it, he thought sleepily. It must just have been a dream.
He closed his eyes and felt himself begin to drift off again.
CHAPTER
Sixty-three
B y the time Tristan and Celeste had returned to the palace and found their way to the late king's quarters, everyone else who had been asked to attend was already there. As the prince walked across the rooms, a profound sense of sadness went through him. He had not visited these chambers in a long time, and part of him-the part that still cried over what he had been forced to do to his father-did not wish to be here now.
As he approached, Tristan could see that the wizards had arranged to have a large meeting table and matching high-backed chairs placed out on the balcony. The Scroll of the Vigors sat on the table, its golden center rod and engraved middle band gleaming in the midday sun. Another table sat nearby holding an abundance of tea and scones, telling the prince that they all might be here for some time. He took a seat, and Celeste sat next to him.
Looking around, he saw Wigg, Faegan, Abbey, Geldon, Traax, and Shailiha. Morganna's baby carriage sat by his sister's side, and the princess gently rolled it back and forth with one hand. For the life of him, Tristan couldn't imagine why they were meeting on his father's balcony. It was pleasant here, to be sure. But knowing the wizards as he did, he knew that couldn't be their reason.
Puzzled, Tristan was about to ask Wigg what was going on, but the lead wizard jumped in first, his face somber. Clearing his throat, Wigg placed his ancient hands flat on the tabletop and came straight to the point.
"It is my sad duty to inform you all that the danger we now face is the most grave in our history," he said quietly. Everyone around the table became quite still, eyes focused steadily on him.
"I will put this as simply as I know how," Wigg continued. "As we speak, Wulfgar, the lost half brother of Tristan and Shailiha, may be returning to Eutracia with an army of demonslavers. Faegan and I believe it is his intention to permanently destroy the Orb of the Vigors. In a matter of mere days, all we know and cherish may disappear from the face of the earth."
Stunned, Tristan sat back in his chair. He could clearly recall that day on the mountain not so long ago, when Wigg had called the two orbs to appear so that Tristan might view them for the first time. The Orb of the Vigors had been bright, shining, and golden, while the Orb of the Vagaries had been black, and literally dripping with the destructive energy of the dark side of the craft.
"But how could such a thing be made to occur?" he breathed across the table, scarcely able to get the words out. "And why?"
"The Scrolls of the Ancients make it possible," Faegan answered. "They're what this whole thing has been about from the beginning."
"Is that what the scrolls are meant to teach us?" Shailiha asked. "How to destroy the orbs?"
"That," Wigg answered, "and a good deal more. In many ways it is easier to tell you what the scrolls cannot show us, rather than what they can. In essence, the scroll before you holds the calculations for virtually every known Forestallment of the Vigors, just as we believe the scroll in Krassus' possession does for the Vagaries. By employing the calculations gleaned from the scrolls, one can identify any already existing Forestallment branch that shoots off from a person's blood signature. The Forestallment branches can now be 'mapped,' as it were. In addition, whoever is in possession of the scrolls can actually not only decipher the calculations required for any Forestallment he or she desires, but can also imbue the blood signature with it and activate it at any time of his choosing."
"But there is even more to the puzzle," Faegan said, leaning over the table. "The scroll also reveals the answers to many of the mysteries of the craft that have plagued us for centuries. In truth, we have only had enough time to scratch the surface of what the scroll may tell us. Reading the document is an amazing experience-like looking into the very souls of the Ones Who Came Before. We now believe it was they who wrote the Scroll of the Vigors, and the Heretics of the Guild who wrote the other. Neither side expected to use the information to destroy the orb that supported their side of the craft, of course. But by including the opposite formula in each one, it seems they could assure themselves of mutual mass destruction in their struggle against one another, should the need arise. Simply put, each scroll was meant to be both a safeguard and a weapon for future generations of the craft to protect themselves with, should its opposite ever be found and used against them."
"What do you mean by 'mysteries of the craft'?" Abbey asked.
"For example, we could never understand how Nicholas had circumvented the death enchantments of the consuls of the Redoubt," Wigg answered. "But now, after reading part of the scroll, we do. We believe the calculations for their reversal must be contained in the Scroll of the Vagaries. Nicholas imbued them into the consuls' blood, thereby allowing them to participate in the construction of the Gates of Dawn without violating their oaths and perishing. The Forestallments no doubt exist in their blood to this day, thereby allowing them to serve their new master Wulfgar on the isle of the Citadel."
"I'll give you yet another example," Faegan added. "I believe each of you is familiar with the phenomenon that accompanies the deaths of certain endowed individuals and creatures of the craft. Most of us have seen the lightning and sudden wind that accompanies these events, such as occurred with the deaths of the mistresses of the Coven. The Directorate had always believed these phenomena to be a way for those who had perished to signal their demise to those of their cause who might still live. We now believe we might have been wrong about this-that the atmospheric events might have something to do with only the death of one's blood, rather than the death of both the blood and the body. Forestallments are, of course, a part of one's endowed blood. But unlike endowed blood, which is present at birth, Forestallments are conjured and added later. Each is the physical embodiment of a spell-a very potent and complicated one. But I digress. The truth is that we have far greater problems to solve now."