"Forgive me, but I assume you're unaware of the attack on the Oreska House last night," Seregil broke in, "or that Nysander i Azusthra has been seriously wounded."
"Nysander!" Leiteus gasped, his robe billowing around him as he sank into a chair. "By the Light, why would anyone want to harm that decent old fellow?"
"I can't say," answered Seregil, his manner now betraying none of the emotion of a moment before. "He sent us to you, though he was too weak to tell us why. Magyana says he'd consulted you on some astrological matter recently. It could have some bearing."
"Do you think so?" Leiteus fetched a pile of charts from a nearby shelf and shuffled quickly through them.
"If only he'd allowed me to do that divination for him. He was gracious about it, of course, but so— Ah, here it is!"
He spread a large chart out on a polished table and peered down at it. "He was interested in the movements of Rendel's Spear, you see."
"A comet?" asked Seregil.
"Yes." The astrologer pointed to a series of tiny symbols arcing across the chart. "It has a synodical cycle of fifty-seven years. This is the year of its return. He helped me calculate the date of its appearance."
Seregil leaned forward eagerly. "And you have it?"
The astrologer referred to his parchments again. "Let me see, going by the observations recorded in Yrindai's Ephemeris, as well as our own calculations, I believe Rendel's Spear should be visible on the fifteenth night of Lithion."
"That gives us just over two weeks, then," Micum murmured.
"Of course, it will remain in the sky for nearly a week," Leiteus added. "It's one of the largest comets, a most impressive display. Of particular interest both to Nysander and myself, however, is the fact that this cycle of the comet coincides with a solar eclipse."
Seregil shot Micum a meaningful glance, then asked, "Would that also be considered a synodical event?"
"Certainly, and one of the rarer variety," replied the astrologer. "I assumed that's why Nysander was so curious about it."
"Eclipses are unlucky things," Micum noted. "I once knew a man who went blind afterward."
"It'll be a doubly unlucky day with the comet in the sky," Seregil added, though to Micum's ear he sounded more pleased than alarmed. was "Plague stars," I've heard these comets of yours called, bringers of ill fortune, war, disease."
"That's true, Lord Seregil," Leiteus concurred. "The College of Divination has already sent word to the Queen, advising the suspension of all trade on that day. People should keep to their homes until the evil influence passes. Such a conjunction has not occurred in centuries."
"And do you have a date for that?" asked Seregil.
"On the twentieth."
"Was there any other sort of information Nysander seemed interested in?"
The astrologer stroked his chin. "Well, he did ask me to calculate if such a conjunction had occurred before."
"And did you?"
Leiteus smiled. "I didn't have to, actually.
As every Skalan astrologer knows, it was that very same conjunction that heralded the beginning of the Great
War six hundred eighty-four years ago. So you see, Lord Seregil, your talk of unlucky "plague stars" does have some basis."
Leaving the astrologer with assurances to send word of Nysander, Micum and Seregil headed back to the city.
"I admit, it makes some sense if you accept that Nysander's right about Mardus aiming for that conjunction," Micum said as they rode.
"He is right, I'm sure of it. Think about it, Micum. There haven't been any major incidents between Skala and Plenimar for twenty years, yet all of a sudden Plenimar decides to launch another war of aggression, just as they did in the Great War.
And the old Overlord, who opposed such a war, conveniently dies just in time for his hawkish son to take the throne? And there's the same conjunction?
And the attack on the Oreska? And if that whole business does all revolve around some rite or ceremony having to do with their Eater of Death, then what more propitious time could there be than during the conjunction?"
"But what is it all for?" Micum growled. "Those odds and ends that Nysander was guarding, what does
Mardus want with them? If the Plenimarans need them that badly, and now, just as war is breaking out again—"
"That's just it, though. Nysander said he wasn't the first
Guardian. His mentor, Arkoniel, was before him, and the wizard before him. Who knows how long Oreska wizards have been watching that same hidey-hole in the vaults? Those things could date all the way back to the Great War. You've heard the legends of necromancers and walking dead from that time, and everyone knows it was the wizards who finally turned the tide."
"You mean to say that the Plenimarans are going to use those things to summon the power of this god?"
"Something like that."
They both rode in silence for a long moment.
"Well, we'd better get moving," Micum said at last. "If you and Nysander are right, then we've only got two weeks to find this mysterious temple, if it exists, and a long way to go to get there. We'll have to hire a ship."
"I had Magyana send out word to Rhal this morning.
We should be able to set sail by tomorrow or the next day."
He kicked his mount into a gallop toward the city gate. Micum spurred grimly on behind him.
Returning to the Oreska, they found Magyana and
Valerius in Nysander's workroom. Seregil quickly outlined what they'd learned from Leiteus.
"So you see," he added, "it's imperative that we all be at this place together, at the given time."
"Haul Nysander off in a ship over spring seas? Are you both mad?" Valerius burst out, glaring at him and Micum. "It's absolutely out of the question. I forbid it!"
Clenching his fists behind his back, Seregil fought to remain calm as he looked to Magyana for support. "There must be some way we could make him comfortable."
But Magyana shook her head firmly. "I'm sorry, Seregil, but Valerius is quite right. Nysander must have solitude and peace to heal. Such a voyage in his present state would certainly kill him."
"Not to mention the fact that you're sailing off into the very teeth of a war," the drysian sputtered. "Even if he could stand being moved—which he can't-what if you're boarded or sunk? Bilairy's Balls, man, he's scarcely conscious more than a few minutes at a time!"
Seregil ran a hand back though his hair in exasperation. "Micum, you talk to them."
"Calm down," said Micum. "If Valerius says Nysander can't survive the voyage, then that's the end of that. But what about a translocation?"
Magyana shook her head again. "He's too weak to survive it, and even if he could, it would not be possible. Since the attack there are only three wizards left, including myself, who possess the skill to perform that spell. And it will be some time before any of us are strong enough to attempt it."
Seregil let out a frustrated growl, but Micum was still thinking. "Well, assuming that these Illiorans are on the right track with their prophecies and comets and all, then we wouldn't necessarily have to move him for almost—"
"Two weeks," cried Seregil. "Praise the Flame for hardheaded Sakoran common sense! You may have just saved us all, Micum. What do you say to that, Valerius? Would he be strong enough in two weeks?"
"With his will, it's possible," the drysian admitted grudgingly. As for the state of his powers, though, only he could say."