"He will try to take the Scroll of the Vigors from us-if for no other reason than to keep us from gifting your blood signature with more Forestallments. The more power you gain, the greater the danger to him and to what he wishes to accomplish."
"And Grizelda and this Harlequin, whoever he was, were supposed to retrieve the scroll for him and take it to the Citadel," Wigg added soberly. "But they failed, and are both dead."
"What do these orbs look like?" Shailiha asked. "And what purpose do they serve? I have heard you speak of them before, but I don't really understand them."
"Nor do I," Celeste added. "What are they, exactly?"
"Magic is everywhere," Wigg answered. "Even though it cannot be seen. In this aspect it is very much like the air we breathe, constantly surrounding us but invisible. In truth, however, magic has substance and shape, as does the air. Let me be clear: I'm speaking of the craft itself, of what it really is. There is a true, interwoven consistency to its energy and its existence, and it can be literally seen, each of the two sides, both the Vigors and the Vagaries. This is the reason we asked you to meet us here on the balcony, rather than in the depths of the Redoubt. So we could show you this wondrous thing firsthand, that you might better understand what it is we must bend every effort to try to protect." Wigg then closed his eyes and raised his arms, as if in supplication.
The sky began to lighten. As it did, a gigantic glow began to coalesce before them in the air of the courtyard. Slowly it started to spin and turn on its axis. It was becoming a brilliant, golden orb, with offshoots here and there of the palest white radiating outward from its center. From time to time golden droplets of energy would trickle down from the revolving orb and fall to the courtyard, dissipating into nothingness. For the second time in his life, Tristan found himself looking in awe at the Orb of the Vigors.
Wigg raised his arms again, and a darker image began to form. As it grew in size to match the other orb, it too began to coalesce into an orb and spin, but rather than being beautiful and awe-inspiring, the dark orb gave off a distinctly menacing aura-frightening, even horrifying.
As they watched the dark orb grow to the size of the Orb of the Vigors, it began to try to push the other orb aside, as if attempting to make room for itself. It was as frightening as the Orb of the Vigors was beautiful. Droplets of dark energy dripped from its pitch-black, shining sides, and bright scratches of lightning shot through the ebony orb's center. The Orb of the Vagaries, Tristan thought. The dark side of the craft in all its ghastly splendor.
Completely entranced, the people at the table watched as the two great orbs began to move about the afternoon sky. They would slowly, repeatedly attract one another, as if somehow needful of each other. But then, just as they were about to touch, they would unexpectedly, violently repel one another, and the process would continue. In some ways it was almost a pitiful thing to watch, the never-ending attempts to join, only to be thrust apart, over and over again.
Wigg opened his eyes. "Each thing in nature has its opposite," he explained. "Male and female, light and dark. And so it goes through the entire scheme of the world as we know it. The two sides of the craft are no different. For as long as we have known of their existence they have been in this perpetual state of struggle with each other." Pausing, he looked around the table at the amazed faces.
"It is believed that the two orbs must never touch," he continued. "Should that happen, the result would be calamitous-a rent, or tear, if you will, in the fabric of each. If the tears were large enough, it is believed that their powers would be released, to join uncontrollably, and that such an occurrence would be the end of all we know. It is also believed that there are invisible corridors in the fabric of the craft that might one day be called upon to finally, safely join the orbs, and that until these corridors are traversed by one or more of the Chosen Ones, neither side of the craft, no matter how powerful it may seem to be individually, has even a smattering of the dynamism it would if properly joined with the other." Lifting his arms again, Wigg closed his eyes, and the two orbs began to dissipate, finally vanishing altogether.
"What will happen to the craft if Wulfgar is successful in destroying the Orb of the Vigors?" Abbey asked.
Reaching out for the cup of tea before him, Faegan thoughtfully took a sip and then replaced it on its saucer. "In truth we cannot be sure, for so many of the concepts of the craft we once thought to be inviolate now seem subject to review-such as our long-held theory that one side of the craft couldn't exist without the other, for example. But at the very least the Vigors would cease to exist. As will you, Wigg, Celeste, and myself, for our time enchantments are each supported by that side of the craft. Not a very happy prospect." He took another sip of the tea. "At the very least, the world would be plunged into the dark side of the craft, perhaps forever, with Wulfgar as its master."
Another thought occurred to Tristan. "Why can't we simply beat him to it?" he asked hopefully.
"I don't understand," Wigg said, his expression skeptical. "What are you talking about?"
"You believe that the scroll in our possession contains the calculations for the destruction of the Orb of the Vagaries, correct?"
"Yes."
"Then why can't we destroy the Orb of the Vagaries first, and render Wulfgar powerless? That would solve all of our problems, would it not?"
Wigg sighed. "We thought of that, and it is a very tempting proposition. But it wouldn't be wise. Assuming, of course, that such a situation is even possible."
"How so?"
"You're forgetting something," Wigg explained. "The Tome states that it shall be your mission, and then the mission of your sister should you either fail or perish in your attempt, to combine the two sides of the craft for the good of all humankind. If we purposely destroy the Orb of the Vagaries and thereby allow only the Vigors to exist, you will never be able to fulfill the destiny that the Tome says you must." Wigg gave a small sigh and looked down at his hands.
"Perplexing, isn't it?" he continued a moment later. "It seems we have been placed in the unwelcome position of having to preserve both sides of the craft, no matter how repellent we find the Vagaries. While Wulfgar, on the other hand, is left completely unbridled, and quite untroubled by such a conflict of interest. In many respects, his task is far easier than ours."
"How will it happen?" Geldon asked.
"How will what happen?" Wigg responded.
"When Wulfgar employs the Forestallment to destroy the orb, I mean," Geldon answered. "What will actually happen?"
Wigg laced his long fingers together. "That is impossible to say," he replied. "The Scroll of the Vigors provides the calculations, but does not actually describe the unfolding of the event. It does, however, make mention of something called the 'Isthmus.' "
"What is that?" the dwarf asked.
"We're not sure. Perhaps more research will tell us. But for now we believe it to be a manifestation of the craft that somehow allows the partial joining of the orbs, without the two of them actually touching each other. And we believe this Isthmus may be an inherent part of what Wulfgar has planned. But there is one advantage we do have over Wulfgar in all of this."
"And what is that?" Tristan asked, eager to hear a scrap of good news.
"Over the centuries, it has been our experience that the two orbs reside only over the landmass of Eutracia," Wigg answered. "Although they exist within the fabric of the craft, and we believe the craft to exist everywhere, every attempt to move the orbs either out over the Sea of Whispers or over the heights of the Tolenka Mountains has always failed. We never discovered why, but it seems quite impossible to do. The only reason we could ever discern was that the Tome stated that Tristan and his sister would one day arrive in Eutracia, and for the Chosen Ones to fulfill their destinies, eons ago the orbs were somehow enchanted to remain imprisoned here, in our homeland, thereby helping to ensure Tristan's or Shailiha's success. But that is still only a theory; as with so many things of the craft, no one can be absolutely sure. But this is why Wulfgar cannot simply call the Orb of the Vigors to the Citadel and destroy it there."