But they were not alone.
Off to the east appeared a beautiful woman with snowy white hair and a soft innocence to her features and expression. Her eyes immediately caught Alexia’s attention because, despite her being semitransparent, they glittered silver. Her mouth moved and Alexia caught pieces of words. “… Kesh, here things… victorious… casualties…” There was more, but the volume waxed and waned, with the words sometimes coming slowly and other times squeaking quickly.
When their hands parted, the vision vanished.
Both women looked at each other, then held hands again, but it did not come back.
Dayley frowned. “You saw it, of course. What was it?”
Alyx shook her head. “I don’t know.”
She shivered and Dayley caught it in her grip. “Something, Alexia. What is it?”
The Okrans princess frowned. “‘Kesh’ has to refer to Nefrai-kesh, Chytrine’s general. Was she communicating with him? Warning him? Something like that?”
Dayley nodded, letting her hand slip from Alexia’s. “Logical, but it was something else that made you shiver. What?”
Alyx shifted her shoulders uneasily. “In Meredo, Will saw someone, someone he said saved him from dying. She could have been the person he described.”
“Someone in league with Nefrai-kesh saved the Norrington?”
“So it would appear.”
Dayley sighed heavily. “I don’t know what to make of that, if it is welcome news or not. If the gods are merciful, perhaps we have a chance to figure it out.”
46
Kerrigan awoke with a start. Bok had clapped a knotty hand over his mouth, stifling an outcry. The mage clawed at the hand, but could not move it. The urZrethi’s hand remained in place for a moment or two more than it needed, then finally moved away as Kerrigan stopped fighting him.
The young mage blinked his burning eyes. He’d not intended to fall asleep when guided to his chamber. He just lay down on the bed while Bok went for the luggage and shifted things around. He remembered yawning and deciding to close his eyes for a moment—then the hard press of Bok’s hand on his mouth brought him back to consciousness.
Rym Ramoch, standing there at the foot of the bed, shook his head. “I asked you to awaken him, Bok, not scare him.”
The urZrethi sank to the floor in a low crouch and mewed an apology.
Kerrigan pulled himself upright and banged his head on the headboard. “Ouch.”
“Don’t be doing that, Kerrigan. We can’t have you dashing your brains out when we need them.” Ramoch moved stiffly to an overstuffed chair near Bok’s corner and seated himself. “I apologize for my absence, but when you detoured into Bokagul, reaching you was too difficult. Knowing your goal, however, I was able to come here ahead of you. I have learned some things that might be useful in your quest.”
“Learning how to detect fragments of the DragonCrown?”
“The same. But first, however, I need to know what happened in Bokagul.”
Kerrigan yawned as Bok slunk across the room to Ramoch’s side. The elder mage idly tangled fingers in the urZrethi’s hair and scratched him as one might a dog. The younger man smoothed a wrinkle from the blankets upon which he’d slept, then began to recount his adventures beneath the mountains. Rym Ramoch did not interrupt him, and because his face was masked and shadowed, Kerrigan had trouble telling if he was even listening.
When he finished his recital, the crimson-robed mage nodded solemnly. “The power you displayed is impressive. If you are able to harness that and direct it toward our goal, Chytrine will not be able to stand against you. And this thing with Will and his blood is surprising. You’ve seen nothing like this before from him?”
“Well, he curses all the time, but this… I could feel the magick pulsing off him. The effect his blood had on the Aurolani and their allies was horrible—and incredible. Even when we were leaving, after the hallway had been washed clean, I could still detect the magick. It would not surprise me if an araftü flying above that spot would not be stopped by the columns of power marking where his blood lay.”
Ramoch drummed his right index finger on the arm of his chair. “Something must have happened to him. What was different?”
Kerrigan shrugged his shoulders. “I think maybe he likes Princess Sayce, and she had been hurt when he acted.”
“A factor, certainly, for it lent power to the oath, but something else.”
“Well, before Bokagul, while you had me, he had been bitten by a sullanciri and said a woman in white healed him. He has two burn scars on his neck and is always cold.”
The elder mage’s head came up. “You have examined him?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And he seems normal.” Kerrigan frowned. “Normal except that I can’t detect the scars. They should be there and wrong, but his body seems to have accepted them.”
Ramoch pressed the fingers of his left hand over his mouth for a moment. “That is fascinating. Watch for more symptoms, more signs.”
“What is it? Is he okay?”
“I’m sure he’s fine. More than fine, actually. Still, it will bear watching.” Ramoch nodded. “Now, tell me, did you notice anything particular about his magick? Something that marked it as his?”
Kerrigan smiled. “I thought of that. Not at the time; we were too busy fighting. But later when I got a chance to examine the places his blood had fallen, there was something about it that had an essence of Will. It’s very hard to describe. When I cast a diagnostic spell, I would get odd echoes in the back of my mind: hearing a word as he spoke it, or catching a flash of his grin, or even seeing him as he was in Yslin, running away from me.“
That latter memory brought a frown to Kerrigan’s face. Granted that had been before Will had known him, but Will had run from a gang of youths beating him up. Had the situation been reversed, Kerrigan would have waded in to help. At least, I think I would have. Will had apologized, and had since become his friend, but some bitterness remained because of that incident. Because of it I was given the dragonbone armor to protect me.
“This is good, Kerrigan, very good. You are sensing his essence. Your mind is relating that to memories you have of him. This indicates you are capable of perceiving a great deal more information related to a spell than most other mages.”
Kerrigan smiled. “I’ve had a chance to think more on that, too, based on our previous conversations and what I noticed in Bokagul. I’ve identified at least seven different dimensions I think I should be able to find in a spell. They are: Person, School, Race, Nature, Intent, Influence, and Power Source. Person, School, and Race I know are there. I picked up on the difference between a diagnostic spell cast by Prince Murfin of the Caledo Academy and the one I would cast. Since I know it was a diagnostic, I guess I got Nature, and Intent, too. Influence I know about from you, since you said I have the taint from the DragonCrown.”
“And Power Source?”
He frowned. “I have cast spells that draw on my own physical strength. That’s how I learned to do things at Vilwan, but then there are some other spells I’ve cast in an emergency, like diagnosing and healing the urZrethi infant in the womb. I wasn’t tired afterward. It was as if the energy for that spell was taken from somewhere else. I could guess my further training at Vilwan might have showed me how to access other power sources.”
“Clearly, Kerrigan, you were shown those paths, but in a subtle manner so you do not have conscious control of those flows. Were this not true, you’d not have been able to draw from those sources.” Ramoch waved his left hand idly. “That matters not at the moment, however. Your analysis is very good, and there are dimensions you have missed, but those are largely inconsequential—temporary things dealing with local factors at the time of the casting. Your further thoughts?”