Tradition dictated that the meetings of the council took place in Porista's opulent palace, a custom upheld by Girdlegard's magi for two millennia. The reason for the venue was twofold: Firstly, the practical consideration of a central location, and secondly, and more crucially, Lios Nudin's heart-shaped form. Like a well of enchantment, Lios Nudin supplied the other five realms with magic, the energy flowing outward to Ionandar, Turguria, Saborien, Oremaira, and Brandфkai.
Lot-Ionan patted his indignant stallion on the neck and laughed. "There'll be plenty of time for galloping on the way home," he assured him, keeping an attentive eye on the crowds.
The walls of Porista offered shelter and protection to forty thousand men. Grassy plains extended for hundreds of miles in every direction and the population made a decent living from livestock and crops. Farming was profitable in these parts: Porista's produce was considered to be almost as good as that of Tabaоn, the northwestern kingdom nicknamed the Breadbasket because of its fertile fields.
Lot-Ionan steered his horse through the bustling streets, dodging carts and carriages and taking care not to trample pedestrians underfoot. He was already missing the tranquillity of his vaults.
At length he reached the gates of the palace, closed to ordinary mortals except by permission of the council. An invisible trap ensnared foolhardy individuals who tried to slip over the walls. Glued to the masonry like insects on flypaper, they were left to die of hunger and thirst, their magic bonds loosening only when nothing remained but bare bones. In matters of security the council was unbending: The palace belonged exclusively to the magi and their staff.
Lot-Ionan recited the incantation. The doors swung open as if propelled by an invisible hand and the magus rode on.
On reaching a sweeping staircase of buff-colored marble, he reined in Furo and slid from the saddle. His path took him up wide steps and through sunlit arcades on paving of elaborate mosaic. White pillars channeled the light from a vaulted glass roof to shine on the colored tiles and show off the intricate designs. The walkway led all the way to the conference chamber where his presence was awaited. He gave the password and the doors flew back.
The others were there already, seated at the circular table of malachite: Nudin the Knowledge-Lusty, Turgur the Fair- Faced, Sabora the Softly-Spoken, Maira the Life-Preserver, and Andфkai the Tempestuous.
With Lot-Ionan, they formed the council of six and disposed of almost limitless power. Each used their magic to pursue a goal of their choosing. Had the magi seen fit, they could easily have toppled the seven human kingdoms of Girdlegard and annexed their land, but they were intent on perfecting their wizardry, not acquiring worldly might.
Lot-Ionan spoke first to Sabora, then greeted the others in turn, before taking his place between her and Turgur. His arrival was acknowledged with brief, stately nods.
Sabora clasped his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'm glad you're here," she said, smiling warmly. Her high-buttoned dress of yellow velvet, a straight and somewhat stern affair, reached to the floor. Her short hair looked more silvery than at their last meeting, but her gray-brown eyes were as lively as ever. She sought his gaze. "Andфkai was beside herself with impatience." She lowered her voice to a whisper so only he could hear. "So was I, but for entirely selfish reasons."
Lot-Ionan returned her smile. Sabora made him feel like an amorous young man. Their affection was mutual.
"We know why you didn't respond to our summons," Andфkai told him. Her harsh tone made it sound like a reproach. She was attractive in an austere sort of way and her physique was uncommonly muscular for a maga, lending credence to the rumor that she could fight as well as any warrior. She wore her hair in a severe blond plait and her blue eyes seemed to search for a quarrel.
"Friedegard and Vrabor are dead," Maira explained. She was taller and slimmer than Andфkai, with red hair that fell about her pale white shoulders. Her simple dress of light green cloth was the perfect complement to her eyes and showed off the gold trinkets hanging from her neck and ears. "The news arrived just before you did." She looked over at Nudin. "It seems to us that the evidence points to the дlfar. We think the Perished Land sent them to thwart our meeting."
Lot-Ionan frowned. "The дlfar are the Perished Land's deadliest servants, but they've never been known to venture so far south. Nudin tells me that our girdle is failing." He paused. "Enemy reinforcements are streaming into Girdlegard in greater numbers than before. Unless we seal the Northern Pass, we'll be meeting in Porista on a regular basis to renew our magic shield." He drummed his finger vigorously on the table. "Enough is enough! The Perished Land must be destroyed!"
"Oh, absolutely," Turgur said scornfully. The famously fair-faced magus had perfectly symmetrical features, a meticulously shaven chin, a thin mustache, and flowing black locks. Women of all ages swooned at the sight of him, for which he was hated and admired by others of his sex. He was far and away the most handsome man in Girdlegard. "Why didn't we think of it before? What a fabulous plan, Lot-Ionan."
"This is no time for sarcasm," Nudin rebuked him in a hoarse, rasping voice.
There was a brief silence as the magi reflected on their past attempts to defeat their invisible enemy.
"Our magic has done nothing to prevent the Perished Land from casting its shadow over Gauragar, Tabaоn, Вlandur, and the fallen kingdoms of Lesinteпl and the Golden Plains," Lot-Ionan said at last.
"And it's not for want of trying. We've used enough energy to topple mountains and drain oceans," added Andфkai, who knew all about destruction. Samusin, the god of winds, was her deity and she focused her magic on controlling even the slightest movement of air. Her mood was as changeable as the weather and her quick temper caused many a storm.
"It wasn't enough, though," said Turgur. "The Perished Land has dug its claws into our soil like a great dark beast and won't be shifted."
"No," Andфkai contradicted him. "It's lurking and ready to pounce. If we do nothing, it will attack."
Lot-Ionan cleared his throat. "I've been thinking. We know from experience that our combined power is enough to keep the threat in check. If we summon our apprentices to Porista and add their magic to the ritual, we may be able to defeat it." He looked expectantly at the others. This was no idle suggestion: They each had thirty or more famuli, all of whom could practice magic to some degree. "If we were to harness the magic of a hundred and eighty wizards, our strength would surely prevail."
"Failing that, we'll know for certain that neither might nor magic can defeat our foe," Nudin commented dryly.
The possibility was too dire for Lot-Ionan to contemplate. If nothing was capable of stopping the Perished Land's incursion, it was only a matter of time before Girdlegard fell. Every living thing, man, beast, or plant, would be forced to live out its existence as a revenant, dead and yet forever in the service of the northern pestilence. A shiver of fear ran through him. No, we can't let that happen.
Andфkai was the first to find her voice. She seemed anxious as she scanned the faces of the others. "I know some of you don't approve of my allegiance to Samusin, but I stand by my faith. We must act."
"I thought your faith would forbid you from driving out the Perished Land," Lot-Ionan said in surprise.
"Samusin strives for equilibrium, but in the blackest of nights, nothing survives, not even a shadow. If we stand by and do nothing, Girdlegard will be in thrall to the darkness," she explained. "Once the Perished Land is defeated, the balance will be restored. I'm in favor of the proposal."
The motion was put to the vote and received the council's unanimous support.
"Very well," Nudin said hoarsely, "but we should renew the existing girdle first. If our defenses crumble before the apprentices get here, we won't be in a position to undertake anything at all. I suggest we break for an hour and have some refreshments before proceeding."