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"It's raining," he answered.

"Have you just arrived, then?"

"Yes."

"Who are you?"

"I am the Seer of Weideth."

"Ah, then it's you who started all this!"

"I suppose it is. Who are you, then?"

"You don't know me? I am Deriam of Ur-Dormulk, and probably the only wizard here who knows what he's doing." He gestured to take in the entire assembly.

The Seer decided that he didn't care for Deriam of Ur-Dormulk. He was trying to think of a polite way to break off the conversation when Shandiph rose and broke it off for him by calling the meeting to order.

"I see that we now have the necessary numbers," he said when the entire group was seated and silent, "counting Derelind. With this quorum, then, we are constituted an official gathering of the Council of the Most High, empowered to take action on behalf of the entire membership. I think that you will all agree shortly that some action must be taken, and quickly."

He paused dramatically, and someone in his audience snorted derisively. Shandiph ignored it.

"We have just received word, through the offices of the sorceress Zhinza, from Derelind the Hermit, who was earlier sent to the city of Mormoreth, in Orfin to ascertain the status of our comrade Shang and the basilisk which had been placed in his keeping. I now yield to Zhinza, so that she may give Derelind's message herself." He gestured toward the ancient woman and then sank into his chair.

Zhinza rose and proclaimed, "Shang is dead. I was right."

Deriam muttered something into his beard.

"Tell them what Derelind said," Shandiph reminded her.

"Derelind said," she went on, "that he arrived safely and found that Mormoreth is now inhabited by the bandit tribe that formerly roamed the Plain of Derbarok. Being a wizard, he was easily able to convince the bandits to talk to him and tell him how this came about. They claim the city was given to them as a gift by the person who killed Shang, as a blood-price for several tribesmen he killed as well."

"All right, woman, who was it killed him?" Karag demanded.

"Shang was killed by an overman named Garth."

There was a moment of stunned silence as this news sank in.

"What about the basilisk?" someone called.

There was a hush as Zhinza looked about for the speaker and failed to locate her. Finally, addressing the group at large, she said, "Garth took it with him."

The ensuing silence was brief and followed by a babble of many voices. Shandiph let it go on for several minutes before demanding order be restored.

"You mean," Karag of Sland said, when he was reasonably sure he could be heard, "that our greatest weapon has fallen into the hands of the enemy even before we have begun to fight him?"

"That would appear to be the case," Shandiph said. "Before we begin debate, however, I would like to have all the available information laid out. We are fortunate in that Kala of Mara thought to bring with her a good scrying glass. At my request, she has been studying this overman. At this time, I would like to ask her what she has learned."

Kala was a young woman in a simple brown robe; she stood and said, "I haven't learned much, I'm afraid. It's very hard to use the glass on Garth of Ordunin; the sword resists the presence of all other magic, and he is never apart from the sword."

"Have you seen the basilisk?" asked Thetheru.

"No, I haven't. I haven't seen any trace of it anywhere in Skelleth. I don't know what happened to it, but I don't think it's there."

"That's good," Deriam said.

"What I have seen, though, is enough to frighten me badly. I cannot look at Garth directly; the sword will not allow it. When I attempt to force it, it retaliates by filling my crystal with its own hideous light, so that I can see nothing. I haven't the strength of will to fight it. However, I have watched the village of Skelleth and places around the overman. There have of late been several great storms in that area, as well as earthquakes; they have had snow and hail, as well as the rain and sleet that might be expected in this season, and winds sufficient to tear apart thatched roofs. I have glimpsed lightning storms that lighted the night sky as if it were day. I think that Garth is somehow using the sword to create or summon these storms."

"You say that you haven't been able to watch the overman himself?" Karag asked.

"No, I haven't. I have also been unable to see inside the local tavern he frequents, whether he is there or not; I have no idea what this might mean."

"These storms," Karag asked. "Are you sure he's causing them? I've never heard of any such magic."

"I am not certain, but they are like no natural storms I have ever seen."

There was a moment of silence; then Thetheru of Amag said quietly, "Do we have any chance of stopping such power?"

"He has already taken our greatest weapon," Herina the Stargazer observed.

"Well, no," Shandiph said, "he hasn't, really."

There was another moment of silence; then Miloshir the Theurgist asked, "Are you referring to the Ring of P'hul?"

"Among other things, yes."

The Seer was confused. He had never heard of the Ring of P'hul. He looked about for Chalkara, but she was seated well down the table on the opposite side.

"What other things?" Karag demanded.

Shandiph sighed. "I was afraid this would happen sometime. A need was bound to arise."

"What in the name of the seven Lords of Eir are you talking about?" someone asked. The Seer was surprised to see that it was Chalkara; he would have guessed that she was privy to all the Chairman's secrets.

"Have none of you ever wondered at how little power our magic has? Haven't you all heard the tales of the great magicks used in the wars of the Twelfth Age and wondered what became of them?"

The other magicians were all staring at Shandiph now.

"They're just stories," someone said.

"No, I'm afraid they aren't."

"You mean that Llarimuir the Great really did move mountains? That he created the overmen on a whim? That Quellimour raised a city overnight and then sent it sailing in the clouds?" Karag's voice was openly sarcastic.

"Yes, they probably did just what you say," Shandiph replied mildly.

"Then what happened?" Miloshir asked.

"It was at the end of the Twelfth Age," Shandiph explained. "The world had been in a constant state of war for over a thousand years, probably more than two thousand-the wars destroyed all the records, so we can't be sure. The wizards of that age fought in those wars, using all the magic at their command; reading their descriptions, I find it miraculous that anyone survived at all. The seers and oracles helped by giving military counsel to the generals and warlords."

"But that's forbidden!" the Seer burst out.

"It is now, yes; it wasn't then. As I was saying, magicks mightier than any we can imagine were common and were employed without any compunction, not only in genuine wars, but in looting and pillaging at whim. The wizards themselves were among the most feared of the warlords. It was only the balance of power, the fact that each side could recruit and use equal amounts of magic, that kept the wars going-and it was probably that balance that kept most of the population alive. Each wizard, you see, defended his subjects, and there were protective spells as powerful as the destructive spells.

"At any rate, this continued throughout the Twelfth Age; but about three centuries ago, the surviving wizards grew tired of the constant conflict and gathered in council to arrange a peace. That was the beginning of the Council of the Most High. You've all probably heard that the wizards were advisors to the warlords, and some were, but most were the warlords themselves. It was agreed that all wars would stop at once, whether the other lords wanted them to or not; the Ring of P'hul was used to end the Orunian War and the Racial Wars, and lesser magicks dealt with the lesser conflicts. It was then decided, when it was seen what the Ring and the other spells had done, that such powers were too dangerous to keep in use, and they were sealed away in a spot known only to the first Chairman of the Council."