‘It knows what Nerak knew – and that is that the collective genius of the Larion Senate exists in Lessek’s spell table. Without Lessek’s Key, the spell table cannot be accessed, not even by a Larion as powerful as Nerak.’
Gilmour paused to refill his pipe with the aromatic Falkan tobacco before continuing, ‘With the key, Nerak might be able to trace Lessek’s original strategy and enlarge the opening in the Fold enough to allow his evil master to escape.’
‘I thought Malagon – Nerak – already had the key.’ Mark was confused. ‘Otherwise why would we be going to Welstar Palace to find it?’ He glanced across at Brynne who quickly looked away, embarrassed at having been caught staring at him twice in one morning. Mark turned back to Gilmour. ‘If Nerak had this key for nine hundred and eighty Twinmoons, why hasn’t he gone to Sandcliff Palace and used this spell table thing to release the evil essence on the universe? Can’t he do that himself?’
‘It’s much more difficult than that, Mark,’ the older man explained. ‘Lessek was enormously powerful, much more powerful than Nerak could ever be, and Nerak knows this. He might begin working with Lessek’s spell table and find he accidentally seals the gods’ evil creation in the Fold for ever. There’s a comprehensive collection of magic and mystical knowledge encoded in that spell table. The Larion Senate was never able to master more than a fraction of its potential. If Nerak taps its power and releases evil on the world, he risks destroying himself in the process. No, I imagine Nerak would keep Lessek’s Key as well protected and hidden from mankind as possible. He will want it somewhere it will neither be found, nor be out of his possession.
‘Nerak has time on his side. He has nothing but time: he can study the magic in the Larion spell table until he has discovered all he needs. When he has learned all that he, Nerak the possessor of souls, rather than he, Nerak the Larion Senator, ever knew, he will take Lessek’s Key back to Sandcliff and endeavour to release his new master on all of us.’
‘Oh God, no.’ Steven barely whispered the words, but Gilmour heard him and looked over expectantly.
‘Are you okay, my boy?’ he asked. ‘I wouldn’t worry about these things today. It’s been nine hundred and eighty Twin-moons and the rutting horsecock hasn’t been able to figure it out yet. We still have some time.’
‘Tell me how Lessek’s spell table works.’ Steven chose his words carefully.
‘Well, the table is just that, a table, carved from a granite block quarried deep in the Remondian Mountains of northern Gorsk. Lessek himself is said to have constructed it over several Twinmoons.’ Gilmour stopped and checked the position of the sun in the morning sky.
‘The key fits in a particular slot carved into the tabletop,’ he went on. ‘When it’s in place the table transfigures from a stone surface to a bottomless pool of knowledge and mysticism. Much of the knowledge is powerful – fiercely independent – and without proper training and practice, it will leap out or, worse, pull you inside. Nerak never understood the intricacies of the table. He was attempting to work with it when the minion escaped and claimed his soul for all time. He had gone too far. He had planned to use the table to overthrow us, but instead his plan backfired and he was taken first.’
Steven and Garec spoke simultaneously; their words had such an impact on the rest of the small company that each rider reined in and turned to stare back at them in stunned silence. Together, in a nearly incoherent marriage of two simple phrases, Garec and Steven changed the course of all their lives.
Garec, in surprise, turned towards Gilmour and cried, ‘You said overthrow “us”,’ while Steven shouted, ‘I have Lessek’s Key.’
There was a pregnant pause which seemed to last an hour. Then everyone spoke at once.
‘What do you mean, you have Lessek’s Key?’ Sallax asked.
‘Gilmour, why did you refer to the Larion Senate as “us”?’ Garec repeated. ‘How could you have been there?’
The air was buzzing with cries of, ‘What did you mean by that?’ ‘How can that be?’ and ‘I don’t understand.’ After several moments of noisy confusion, Gilmour held a hand above his head in an effort to silence the group and restore order to the discussion.
When they had calmed enough for him to be heard, Gilmour called, ‘Please, everyone, please.’ They quieted further and he continued, ‘I’ll answer a couple of important questions, but then I must insist we push on. We have far to go before making camp tonight. Once we’re settled we can spend as much time as necessary talking this through, but right now we are in great danger.’
He turned first to Steven, his face alight with anticipation. ‘But before we take one more step, we need to hear from you, my boy.’ Trying to control the emotion in his voice, Gilmour asked, ‘How is it that you suddenly believe you have Lessek’s Key?’
Steven inhaled slowly and explained, ‘I knew it when you said the evil minion controlling Nerak would put the key in a safe place until it had enough time to master the spell table in Sandcliff Palace.’
‘That’s right. Why does that make a difference now?’ Everyone was hanging on Steven’s every word.
‘Nerak put it in my bank with the far portal. The key is in a box on my desk in Idaho Springs.’ Even though Steven had no idea what Lessek’s Key looked like, he was willing to bet William Higgins’ stone was the missing piece of the Larion spell table.
‘That rock,’ Mark added under his breath.
‘That’s right,’ Steven agreed, ‘it has to be that rock.’
‘It is a small stone,’ Gilmour explained, ‘about one hand across, and dark, like the land’s deepest granite.’
Versen and Sallax exchanged worried glances while Brynne sat transfixed by the conversation between her new friends and her old mentor.
‘Damnit,’ Mark interjected. ‘Now we have to get back there and get that stone before this Malagon-Nerak-minion character manages to figure out your old spell table.’ He was growing angry and frustrated.
‘You did it too,’ Garec pointed accusingly at Mark. ‘You called it “his” spell table.’ He gestured angrily at Gilmour.
Mark’s mistake didn’t get by Brynne, either. ‘Gilmour, what have you told them that we don’t know? How is it you’re so familiar with the Larion Senate? You speak about them as if you were there.’
Gilmour looked at Brynne and Garec with all the pride and affection of a grandfather. ‘Because I was there. I am one of the two surviving Larion Senators in Eldarn.’
‘How can that be?’ Versen asked, bewildered. ‘That would make you nine hundred and eighty Twinmoons old.’
Gilmour laughed, a bellow that shook his frame. ‘I remember nine hundred and eighty Twinmoons, Versen. I remember it fondly. No, I guess I’m about twice that old.’ And before any of his incredulous friends could interrupt again, he added, ‘Let’s keep moving, please. We’ve learned a lot this morning but nothing that alters our final destination. We have many days’ travel in front of us and we won’t get anywhere sitting here sharing revelations.’
They rode on in silent disbelief, the southernmost edge of the Ronan piedmont rolling along beneath their mounts. A midday meal was taken in the saddle to avoid another break; everyone – even Mark, who was still bitterly uncomfortable – was content to continue riding through the day. On several occasions, one or more of them tried to make small talk, but those efforts invariably collapsed. Until Gilmour explained more fully, no one would be quite comfortable.
Despite the palpable wariness that hung over the company, Versen set a brisk pace through the forest. Bouncing uncomfortably along, Mark once again started counting the minutes until they would stop for the night. His riding skills had improved since the previous day, but he still pined for a less painful form of travel.
After the midday aven, Versen’s horse flushed a pair of grouse that exploded into the air in a startling blur of dark brown feathers. Watching them fly through the trees, Garec saw the birds land in a sun-dappled clearing just off the trail. He and Versen dismounted and stalked the birds through the brush, catching and killing both.