“Yes, Lady Eilin.”
“Stay there!” Eilin’s voice cracked across the clearing, and the big wolf gave a low, warning growl. “How do I know that I can trust you?” the Lady said. “After what happened the other night . . .” She shook her head.
“Will somebody please tell me what happened the other night?” Maya interrupted.
Eilin glanced at her sharply, “You mean you don’t know?”
“My fault, Lady,” D’arvan said. “Finbarr’s death shocked me so badly . . .” He shrugged. “I knew nothing after that, until I awakened and saw the wolves.”
“As well for you that you woke up then,” Eilin said dryly. “Aurian says in her message that your powers never surfaced. How is it, then, that you can speak with my wolves?”
“I don’t know,” D’arvan confessed. “I never tried to communicate with animals before. ! didn’t know I could,”
“Well, there may be hope for you yet,” Eilin said, “That is, if you are telling me the truth. Will you be Tested?”
D’arvan nodded, and stepped forward, his expression strained. The Lady held out her glowing staff, and he reached out his hand to grasp the iron-shod heel. The green glow flared into a dazzling aureole that consumed the body of the young Mage, and D’arvan gasped, falling to his knees. Through the scintillating glare, Maya saw sweat break out on his forehead, and stepped forward, an involuntary cry escaping her lips. But the big wolf barred her way, and others advanced to circle her. Then it was over. The Magelight died away, leaving only the flickering flames of Maya’s little fire, as D’arvan relinquished his hold on the staff with a sigh of relief, his shoulders slumping.
Eilin smiled. “Bravely done, young Mage,” she said. “The Test of Truth is not a pleasant experience, or an easy one.” She turned to Maya. “My apologies, Lieutenant Maya, for my suspicion. But grave times are upon us—the gravest the world has faced since the Cataclysm.”
“Lady, what has happened?” Maya begged, “If there’s trouble in Nexis, I should go back at once.”
Eilin shook her head. “No, child. It would be a grave mistake to rush back to Nexis, unrested and uninformed as you are. In fact, it would probably be pointless for you to return at all. Be patient a little longer. Come home with me, and I will tell you what I know, ill news though it is, then we can decide what to do for the best,”
“Very well, Lady.” Maya curbed her impatience; she felt forced to accept the sense of this.
The Lady Eilin took D’arvan up on her own horse, and Maya carefully buried the remains of her fire and, mounting the other skittish beast, followed in their wake. The wolves remained behind, on guard.
The warm red glow of the stove in Eilin’s kitchen dispelled the chill of the wintry night outside. The Lady soon had them seated in comfort, eating bread and cheese and cradling cups of fragrant, steaming tea. As the Mage sat down with her own cup, Maya leaned forward, desperate for news.
Eilin opened her mouth as if to begin, then paused, with a little shrug of helplessness. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I haven’t spoken to anyone for so long; one gets out of the habit,” She sighed. “Still, it musfbe done,” She closed her eyes, remembering. Maya wanted to shriek with frustration, but held her tongue, schooling herself to patience.
“I generally go to bed with the sun,” Eilin said at last. “Three nights ago, I awakened suddenly—I thought I neard Aurian calling me. Calling for help. She sounded so desperate— I knew it was not a dream. I could hear nothing more, but I was afraid, afraid to my very soul. Shaking, I got out of bed and sought my crystal. It’s been years since I last attempted scrying —what need had I to look at the world outside? As long as I had the occasional visit from Aurian I knew she was all right. But that night I looked—and I saw—” Her voice cracked, her hands whitening in their tight grasp round the cup.
“What did you see?” Maya pressed. “Lady, please—”
Eilin drew a long, shuddering breath. “Abominations,” she said. “Creatures of horror beyond all imagining. The Archmage has tampered with an ancient artifact from the past. Out of legend, out of history, he has unleashed the Death Wraiths of the Caldron.”
Maya knew little of such matters, but she saw the shock on D’arvan’s face, saw the look of dread that he and Eilin exchanged.
“There was more,” the Lady went on, her eyes shadowed with grief. “Maya, I’m sorry—more sorry and more grieved than you’ll ever know, to have to tell you this. The Archmage set one of those hideous creatures on Forral. I saw him fall, and saw him die.”
“No,” Maya whispered,. The world stood still around her. “Oh, Lady, no.” As a warrior, she had thought herself inured to the loss of comrades in battle, but now she felt her throat tighten with unshed tears. Not Forral! Please, not Forral! She had never known a better man! Not only was he her commander, but he had also been her close friend over the last few years, as had Aurian. Poor Aurian! Maya caught her breath. “What of Aurian?” she gasped.
“Alive. Finbarr came in time to save her. Somehow he found a way to disable those monstrosities, and two men— Mortal men—got her away.” Eilin’s voice was strained. “I have no idea what happened to her afterward. They fled, I suppose. She lives, I’m certain, but I cannot find her. I lost my link when poor Finbarr died. The Wraiths were too many for him. He fell in the end, and D’arvan must have felt his death as all we Magefolk did.”
“Yes,” D’arvan whispered. “I felt his passing. Dear Gods, Lady, what are we to do? How could Miathan be capable of such an act?”
“Miathan was always capable of far more than most people gave him credit for.” Eilin’s eyes hardened. “I had no proof that he had a hand in Geraint’s death, but I had my suspicions. That was one of the reasons why I fled to this place when Aurian was a baby. But as the years passed, I persuaded myself that it was a foolish fancy, born of grief, and that was why I permitted my daughter to go to the Academy when she was older. Folly! I should have trusted my instincts! But I wish I knew why the Archmage has so suddenly turned to this new evil. D’arvan, you were at the Academy until lately. Can you shed any light on this matter?”
“Not really, Lady, though Miathan has been acting oddly of late. What he did to me—he and my brother. . .” D’arvan told her his story.
Eilin frowned. “Ridiculous!” she said. “Of course you have power, he should know that!” Then she paused. “Ah, but does he?” she murmured. “D’arvan, did your mother ever tell you about your father?”
The young Mage blinked, puzzled. “Tell me what, Lady? They both passed when I was very young—strangely enough, about the same time that Miathan became Archmage—but I can remember my father quite weil. Uavordran was a Water-Mage; clever, yes, but not special in any way. What should she have to tell me about him?”
Eilin seemed lost in thought for a moment, then she straightened, her expression suddenly decisive. “Perhaps I am the only one who does know,” she muttered to herself. “Perhaps Adrina chose to confide only in me.” She looked straight at D’arvan. “Prepare yourself for a shock, young Mage,” she said. “Davorshan is not your twin, and only half your brother. Bavor-dran was his father, but yours . . . well, that is quite a different matter.”
The cup fell from D’arvan’s hands and splintered on the floor without his even noticing. “What do you mean?” he gasped. “It can’t be trjyjs^How can it?”
“Oh, we Magewomen can manage these things if we must,” Eilin said. “Having conceived you, Adrina was quick to see that Bavordran had a son of his own, to allay his suspicions. You were brought into being within mere days of one another, and it was fairly simple for her to arrange for you to be born at the same time—as well as her Earth-magic, she had a singular Healing gift.” She shrugged. “It was a bold move on her part— from the very start, people wondered why the two of you looked so different.”