«Oh, I am,» Chaumel said. «I will give no more trouble.»
«Then its time to redirect the power to its original purpose, as conceived by the Ancient Ones: weather control.»
«But what shall we do about the other mages?» Plennafrey asked.
«If we can't convince 'em,» Carialle said, «I think I can figure out how to disable them, based on what our long-gone chronicler said about answerback frequencies. With a little experimentation, I can block specific signals, no matter how tight a wave band they're broadcast on. The others will learn to live on limited power, or none at all. It's their choice.»
«We'd employ that option,» Keff said quickly when he saw Chaumel's reaction, «only if there is no other way to persuade them to cooperate.»
«And that is where I come in,» Chaumel said, smiling for the first time. «I am held in some esteem on Ozran. I will use my influence to negotiate, as you say, a widespread mutual surrender. With the help of the magical pictures you will show us"—he bowed to Carialle's image—"we will persuade the others to see the wisdom in returning to the ways of the Ancient Ones. We must not fail. The size of that gourd . . .» he said, shaking his head in gently mocking disbelief.
«I still think you're wrong to leave Brannel behind,» Keff argued, as Plenna lofted him over the broad plains toward Chaumel's stronghold.
«It is better that only we three, with the aid of Carialle and her illusion-casting, seek to convince the mages,» the silver magiman said imperturbably. He sat upright in his chariot, hands folded over his belly.
«But why not Brannel? I'm not a native. I can't explain things in a way your people will understand.»
Chaumel shook his head, and pitched his voice to carry over the wind. «My fellows will have enough difficulty to believe in a woman who lives inside a wall. They will not countenance a smart four-finger. Come, we must discuss strategy! Tell me again what it said about promotion in the documents. I must memorize that.»
The chariots flew too far away even to be seen on the magic pictures. Brannel, left alone in the main cabin, felt awkward at being left out but dared not, in the face of Chaumel's opposition, protest. He remained behind, haunting the ship like a lonely spirit.
The flat magiwoman appeared on the wall beside him, and paced beside him as he walked up and back.
«I don't know when they'll be coming back,» Carialle said very gently, surprising him out of his thoughts. «You should go now. Keff will come and get you when he returns.»
«But, Magess,» Brannel began, then halted from voicing the argument that sprang to his tongue. After all, this time she was not driving him away with painful sounds, but he was unhappy at being dismissed whenever the overlords had no need of him. After all the talk of equality and the promise of apprenticeship following his great risk-taking in Magess Plennafrey's stronghold, he, the simple worker, was once more ignored and forgotten. He sighed.
«Now, Brannel.» The picture of the woman smiled. «You'll be missed in the cavern if you don't go. True?»
«True.»
«Then come back when you've finished your work for the day. You can keep me company while I'm running the rest of the tapes.» The voice was coaxing. «You'll see them before Magess Plenna and Chaumel. How about that as an apology for not sending you out with the others?»
Brannel brightened slightly. It would be hard to return to daily life after his brush with greatness. But he nodded, head held high. He had much to think about.
«Oh, and Brannel,» Carialle said. The flat magess was kind. She gestured toward the food door which opened. A plate lay there. «The bottom layer is soft bread. You can roll the rest up in it. We call it a 'sandwich.'»
He walked down the ship's ramp with the «sandwich» of magefood cradled protectively between his hands. The savory smell made his mouth water, even though it hadn't been long since he had eaten his most delicious lunch. How he would explain his day's absence to Alteis Brannel didn't yet know, but at least he would do it on a full belly. Associating with mages was most assuredly a mixed blessing.
«Why not relax?» Chaumel said, leaning back at his ease in a deeply carved armchair that bobbed gently up and down in the air. «He will come or he will not. I shall ask the next prospect and we'll collect High Mage Nokias later. Sit down! Relax! I will pour us some wine. I have a very good vintage from the South.»
Keff stopped his pacing up and back in the great room of Chaumel's stronghold. Chaumel had decided on the first mage to whom he would appeal, and sent a spy-eye with the discreet invitation. Evening had fallen while the three of them waited to see if Nokias would accept. The holographic projection table from the main cabin was set up in the middle of the room. He went over to touch it, making sure it was all right. Plennafrey watched him. The young magiwoman sat in an upright chair in her favorite place by the curtains, hands folded in her lap.
«It's important to get this right,» Keff said.
«I know it,» Chaumel said. «I am cognizant of the risks. I may enjoy my life as it is, but I love my world, and I want it to continue after I'm gone. You may find it difficult to convince my fellows of that. I achieve nothing by worrying about what they will say before I have even asked the question. The evidence speaks for itself.»
«But what if they don't believe it?»
«You leave the rest to me,» Chaumel said. He snapped his fingers and a servitor appeared bearing a tray holding a wine bottle and a glass. He poured out a measure of amber liquid and offered it to Keff. The brawn shook his head and resumed pacing. With a shrug, Chaumel drank the wine himself.
«All clear and ready to go,» Carialle said through Keff's implant.
«Receiving,» Keff said, testing his lingual transmitter, and let it broadcast to the others.
«I have pinpointed the frequencies of all of Chaumel's and Plennafrey's items of power, including their chariots. They're all within a very narrow wave band. Will you ask Plenna to try manipulating something, preferably not dangerous or breakable?»
Plenna, grateful for something to do to interrupt the waiting, was happy to oblige.
«I shall use my belt to make my shoe float,» Plenna said, taking off her dainty primrose slipper and holding it aloft. She stepped away, leaving it in place in midair.
«But you're not touching the belt,» Keff said. «I've noticed the others do that, too.»
Plenna laughed, a little thinly, showing that she, too, was nervous about the coming confrontation. «For such a small thing, concentrating is enough.»
«Here goes,» Carialle said.
Without fanfare, the shoe dropped to the ground.
«Hurrah!» Keff cheered.
«That is impossible,» Plenna said. She picked it up and replaced it, this time with her hand under her long sash.
«Do it again, Cari!»
Carialle needed a slightly more emphatic burst of static along the frequency, but it broke the spell. The shoe tumbled to the floor. Plennafrey put it back on her foot.
«No answerback, no power,» Carialle said simply, in Keff's ear. «Now all I have to do is be open to monitor the next magiman's power signals and I can interrupt his spells, too. I'm only afraid that with such narrow parameters, there might be spillover to another item I don't want to shut off. I'm tightening up tolerances as much as I can.»
«Good job, Cari,» Keff said. He smacked his palms together and rubbed them.
«You are very cheerful about the fall of a shoe,» Chaumel said.
«It may be the solution to any problems with dissenters,» Keff said.