Old dimensions

Roots

The Presence (G of R)

Chapter Thirty

Gathering of Rain

They dispersed after the morning’s revelations, needing time away from discussion, debate and information, from knowledge. Thus, singly and in pairs, they dispersed.

It was not easy to put the game aside. Destiny’s noose tightened around all of them in one way or another and they would not emerge unchanged.

Kylan and Kisha disappeared together in search of herbs and potions to restock Kylan’s pouch. He was forced to throw what he had away; seawater ruined it. Kisha took the opportunity to find a hat to protect her northern skin against the southern sun. Both were amazed to discover that the coin for north and south had not changed. The few dians she had - the north relying on barter rather than money- could be happily spent in Actar. The two had fun amid the stalls and tiny shops, and laughed a great deal in those hours between. In quieter moments Kylan looked at this woman who had turned his life upside down and inside out. He asked her to give them all a chance. He did not say it, but he did not want to lose her, not yet. He did not say it, but she heard him anyway and smiled secretly. She prayed for the opportunity to discover something solid together. Kylan was a wonderful man; her father would have approved.

Aven dragged a chair onto the balcony and there he fell asleep, his thoughts swirling in the unconscious over Averroes, awaiting her return, praying for it. Taranis had promised to fetch her when night fell, signature be damned. The game was at a critical stage. He also had confusing thoughts about Rain. Always he had been able to read between the lines, see through and behind temper tantrums, into his argumentative nature, and now Rain was elusive. He worried and his dreams were not soothing. Mordan stayed with him, also falling asleep. Mordan, for his part, slept soundly.

Rain vanished alone, to find a moneylender…and to think.

His thoughts were not always pleasant.

Taranis told nobody where he was going.

His thoughts were far from soothing also.

Llettynn and Belun made it to the edge of town without being seen and there, far from prying eyes, took to the skies.

Glint went to a secluded eatery and, having explained to the credulous proprietor about the new skin dye he was testing for a fancy-dress party, proceeded to taste everything that came out of the kitchens. He placed a huge order to take back with him, much to the proprietor’s delight. How he would pay was anyone’s guess. Glint did not give the game thought. He already lived with destiny; he had seen many changes come and go- this was another and would play out one way or the other.

Samson and Cristi went sightseeing, entranced by the southern ways. They quietly discussed what they had heard. As the two youngest they often felt unable to contribute and thus forged strength simply by admitting their fears to each other.

Saska did not know what to do with her time and when McSee offered to take her out to the reef-lake, she readily agreed. They hired a small boat and sailed the heat of the day away amid cool ocean breezes. Neither mentioned the irony of being on calm water after so close a shave with death. McSee did ask about the Sylmer, but she did not want to talk about it and turned the flow of their conversation to his boyhood adventures, often laughing with delight. McSee had shadows in his eyes- did they not all have those now?- but he was interesting when not on the subject of magic and knew how to entertain.

Sometime during the day Rain reported the Calloway lost at sea to the local authorities, explaining the circumstances as best he could. He asked that word be sent to Betty at the Luannesse.

Night fell, and brought with it a presence.

Not the noise, the music, the colour, the revellers, although it brought that too.

McSee and Saska had just moored, pleasantly tired and absolutely ravenous, when they felt the air heave and shimmer. They stared at each other wordlessly and then began to run.

Samson and Cristi, laden with packages, stopped and looked at each other, feeling the sinister vibrations in the air, under their feet…they dared not move.

Glint was halfway up the stairs bearing a large tray covered with edible goodies, payment satisfactorily concluded, when the air became so dense he could barely breathe. He propped himself and the tray against the wall and waited it out.

Llettynn and Belun endured much enquiry as to where had they got those incredible wings, when they experienced a heave and suction, a tearing through the fabric that was air.

Aven woke up clutching at his throat, and Mordan prostrated himself on the floor in irrational fear.

Kisha and Kylan stumbled on the cobbles of a square and clutched each other, slowly looking skyward.

Rain rounded the final corner to their residence, when the air thickened and congealed about him. Taranis, coming from the other side, stood dead still, staring at Rain, but not seeing him, his throat constricted.

They were not alone in the terrifying experience.

The noise of Actar subsided as pleasure-seekers froze or fell or held onto each other. They clamped about trees, stuck to walls, cowered into benches, all in consternation, and eventually they too looked skyward, expecting a severe thunderstorm after the heat of the day, after heat of weeks. What else could possibly thicken air pressure dramatically…if not the precursor to an epic storm?

Consternation turned to fear when they saw nothing but darkening sky with stars winking brightly. The moon had not yet risen. Everything appeared normal…while the air grew ever thicker, heaved, shimmered, moved. Fear grew apace, yet not a body stirred, nor uttered a sound. Actar froze.

Breathless waiting.

Suffocating. Airless.

And then it was over.

The would-be revellers dispersed, the night’s pleasures over before they had properly begun. Fear remained tangible. The rumours about Farinwood, Infinity, strange glows and changeling children resurfaced, although words were barely shared. Now this, they seemed to say with their eyes.

That night, Valarians- for the strangeness was widespread- in private and in hushed tones, speculated about the coming war, darklings, and recalled the horror of Drasso and Infinity. The precedent for evil confrontation already existed in Valarian psyche, and they were awakening to the fact that their beloved world was changing beyond their control. Forces were at work. The sages among them said it was long overdue, but not even they understood the meaning of their words.

One by one they rushed back; Glint first with the food, having been nearest, and Saska and McSee last, having been the furthest.

‘What’s happening?’ Cristi asked, her voice quavering. She twisted the cord at her waist.

‘Shh, it’s over now,’ Samson murmured, comforting her in his arms.

‘No, I’m afraid it has just begun,’ Rain stated. He stood just within the door, his fair hair a tangled mess, grey eyes faraway. ‘What we just experienced is a signature. When a great feat of magic is in operation, there is a signature that can be felt by all magic-users. This one was the mother of a feat if everyone felt it.’

Aven said from where he sat rumpled on the couch: ‘Something like a forgotten lord readying for a revealing?’

There was dead silence.

Taranis said it. ‘Vannis.’

Rain nodded, still looking into far distances. ‘Yes, the Vallorin.’ His hand strayed to the Medaillon on his chest, and Taranis moved to thrust that questing hand aside.

‘No, we don’t know enough. It’s his.’

Focusing briefly, Rain brought his gaze to Taranis, eyes grey and so like his own, and then unfocused again, and his hand fell away. Taranis glanced over at Llettynn, who motioned for him to leave the mortal alone, to see what came next. Taranis stepped reluctantly away.

‘Vannis is almost free,’ Rain said in a disembodied voice. ‘He has been imprisoned for a long time, now seeks release. Averroes set him on that path a few minutes ago. That is what we experienced. She believes it a dream, and took a dream into new levels out of curiosity. He is beautiful, looks like us, golden skin…a dragon tattoo on his chest. His eyes are…mostly yellow, but changeable. He needs the Medaillon to complete the release, to remove the final barrier to his freedom…she was meant to have it, she is the bearer he was waiting for, she is the Changeling. He is Vannis, Vallorin of the Valleur, he tells her, he is furious, so close, thwarted…Averroes is…there is danger for her…’

Aven rose, sat down, and then rose again. He glared accusingly at Taranis, who was too intent on Rain to notice.

He is very good, Belun thought, his eyes also on Rain.

‘You’re in danger also!’ Taranis blurted, gripping Rain’s arm. ‘You have the Medaillon he needs. Pull back before he sees you!’ Taranis willed the man away, praying he would hear, and, to his relief, Rain focused on him. ‘Thank the Lady,’ Taranis muttered, and then said without turning away: ‘Belun, call the Eagles, all of them, to hell with signatures…and tell them to find Averroes, tell them to bring her here. We need to get her into protection immediately.’

Aven slumped as Belun began communicating with the Dome.

Taranis gave his undivided attention to Rain. He still held the man’s arm in a death-grip; with a muttered apology, he let go. ‘You’re more powerful than you know, Rain of the Mantle. You are now the key to his freedom, and he is going to sense that soon. You will be his main target.’

‘He incarcerated himself, Taranis,’ Rain said. ‘Deliberately, for this time.’

‘That’s a bloody long time to stew through,’ Glint muttered.

‘Do not use the Medaillon again,’ Taranis said. And then he frowned, realising Rain had not, in fact, touched it. More powerful than any of us suspect even now and that could be as dangerous as a freed, angry Vallorin. Breathing out, he retreated into the room, carefully schooling his face.

Llettynn sucked at his teeth, as expressionless as ever.

Saska stared at Rain, wondering who he was, what he was, and where he was going. She needed to know. She desperately desired to know.

And Rain- he withdrew. Inwardly he asked the same questions and that placed him on par with those around him, but his answers, if he had the courage to acknowledge them, put him somewhere else entirely. His time was approaching.

Destiny would force his hand.

****

(Links list in sidebar)

Shifting balance

Fire and Glyphs

Silver candlelight

Great Forest a.k.a. Forbidden Forest

The Great Forest of Valaris is a broad and dense band of trees stretching from the east coast to the west, thereby literally dividing the continent into north and south. This is why it is also known as the Great Dividing Forest. The north regards the band of trees as dangerous (the why of that is explained in Gathering of Rain) and northerners therefore refer to the forest as Forbidden.

However, all is not what it seems...

Yes, in case you wonder why I post about a band of trees frequently, I do like my Great Forest!

Dialogue: Dantian

Dantian

(Blue could not interview Dantian, Vallorin of the Valleur beyond the Rift, for the time between rift tear and his capture was too fleeting. Blue subsequently spoke to Dantian via a visitation from the realms beyond. The Valleur, it is told, can do this. Whether or not you believe what is recorded below, these are the words as remembered upon waking.)

Blue:  My Lord Vallorin, thank you for appearing. We believe others need to know of your sacrifice.

Dantian: I do not regard what happened as a sacrifice. My destiny was written into my name at birth.

Blue: The Valleur scry a newborn’s future and apply a name to suit, right? Is that how you became aware of what you call your destiny?

Dantian: When one grows with a name that is a destiny, one accepts.

Blue: I cannot believe it is as simple as accepting.

Dantian: It was not easy.

Blue: Your brother Dante- what was his destiny?

Dantian: To be the father he was.

Blue: Ah, yes, he had a daughter. According to our records, she did not survive the burning of Hutito.

Dantian: There are different kinds of death, Blue. Her survival may not be as you trust it to be. Mark the future for news of this daughter of the Valleur.

Blue: We do enjoy a challenge. We shall watch.

Dantian: My time in this form grows short.

Blue: And before you dissipate, my lord, could you tell us what lies beyond?

Dantian: Life. Salvation, if you desire it. Redemption, is you require it. Choice, where before choice was a relative factor.

Blue: I assume you speak now of a destiny voided.

Dantian: Destiny fulfilled. And beyond it new choice. Life.

Blue: We need not fear death?

Dantian: Fear it. What you do in flesh echoes in these realms…

(Dantian’s visitation ended then, although Blue claims the essence of his presence lingered for a time. From that lingering she claims to have absorbed more of the man’s personality.)

Blue: A footnote, reader: Dantian was a man who loved life despite knowing his destiny. He lived large and loved as much. We are the poorer for his passing. I wish I had known him.

The Guardians

They came from varied places. The Sagorin were nomads; The Siric arose from their latest homeworld, old by most calendars and far from the gathering place. The mighty Eagles winged in from various roosts, tailed by the nimble Falcons. The Centuar materialized within the gathering in the blink of an eye. Finally, there were the delicate and beautiful Sylmer. A gathering-call was felt within and could not be denied.

The Dome was a magical cathedral, with soaring marble pillars reaching heavenward to commune with the stars, pure white with silvery tracings, intermittently sparking, a reminder of the life within the stone. It was warm to the touch, releasing the slightest electrical shock, a pleasant sensation. Living rock- many would discount the notion. There were fourteen pillars exactly spaced about the perimeter of the circular interior and together they formed the sacred ogives. It was through one of these vaulted arches that each group entered, each having a doorway. There were fourteen magical doorways and six were employed in answer of summons.

 Gathering of Rain

Smell of Rain

Ever do I take a look at images of rain, mist, dew etc., because the title of my first published book is Gathering of Rain. Now, for those of you who have not yet read it (why not??), there is little by way of rain in this the first volume of the Tales from the Path of Shades series (actual rain comes later and causes havoc), and still I find I respond to the images. Rain, in book one, is the main character, a man on a path not of his choosing. Destiny stalks him. The day does come, however, when he is faced with deluge and therefore change...

P.S.: I do love the smell of rain!

RAIN in the Forest

North of the clearing a track led through the trees to a picturesque setting where one of many streams lacing the Forest floor widened into a deep, green pool. Saska found it soon after the Guardians arrived on Valaris, in her search for a place to bathe in private.

This was where Cristi discovered Rain before they moved on. He squatted on the edge staring into the rippling depths as if mesmerised. Water dripped from his face and hands and his hair was damp. Never comfortable around people, she had come for a few minutes of solitude and, finding it unlikely with Rain already there, she began to retreat.

His head turned. Grey eyes speared her, immobilising her. He rose with a sigh, drying his hands roughly on his breeches. When he finally looked away she felt released. And then strangely...bereft.

‘I don't mean to frighten you,’ he said as he moved past her heading for the path back to the clearing.

‘Wait,’ she said and could not believe she did so.

He halted and to his credit did not express surprise. If he had she might have bolted.

‘I’m ever wary,’ she said. ‘Around others. It’s not that you frighten me...’

He gave a half-smile. ‘You’re lying.’

She stared at him, briefly nonplussed, and then stood straighter. ‘Fine. You do scare me, but that’s how it should be. Somehow that makes all this strangeness all right.’

He frowned quizzically, but didn’t speak.

‘What I mean is, I feel safe.’ Cristi stopped there, putting a hand to her burning face.

‘That makes no sense.’

Hangman's Noose

On Valaris, a human world isolated by its distance from the populated centres of the universe and also due to a space warp beyond the atmosphere, sorcery is forbidden. Even common legerdemain is outlawed. Any man, woman or child caught  doing magical tricks will be summarily strung from the nearest tree.

Human nature being what it is, however, means magic is not by any means dead. The art went underground...

Find out how and find out where in Gathering of Rain (links in Pages)

About Valaris

I would like to share with you the homeworld featured in all my Tales from the Path of Shades. Known as Valaris, it begins its journey into the multiverse in Gathering of Rain and continues in House of Valla, Shades of Shadow and The Sunless One. Thereafter (Glittering Darkness onward) Valaris remains the homeworld, but the multiverse expands a fair bit to include other worlds and dimensions. Always Valaris is hearth and home to the characters that populate the Tales.

A small world, in the grand scheme of time and space, but beautiful and benign. There is one continent and a host of islands- a water world, really…although the folk living there are more than a little wary of the great depths of unchartered oceans!

Here are a few descriptions and images:

Drasso’s continuing legacy was a continent divided by the one region that had remained relatively untouched by the battles: the Great Dividing Forest. Valaris was a largely water world- one continent and thousands of unexplored, uninhabited islands, the rest being ocean in every direction. Thus, when one described the continent as divided, one was actually saying a world had been divided and its people also, and most effectively as Kisha and Kylan came to understand.

Back in Valaris’ beginning, once it became a habitable world, there was no sentient life. The humans of today did not evolve here; they came from faraway worlds, much the same as happened elsewhere. One starship came and saw it was good, and then there was another and another, a familiar tale. This was and is a paradise world and the humans who settled were happy, but, being human, being sentient, they were selfish also- another familiar tale- and denied entry to other races. Now, around the time that selfish mind-set began, a space warp materialised in the heavens above that made it impossible to travel the stars again, the same warp still in position today. It also, of course, denied entry to other settlers, and put an end to other races interfering with the humans already here. Thus, without any great effort, the humans got their wish, and the Valarians were born as a people apart.

Valaris went beyond every dream. It was far more than this miserable excuse of a world. Even when the light shone benignly here and the mountains were green and white, rounded and inviting, it could not compare.

Ah, what a kaleidoscope world! Sapphire and emerald, silver and white, gold, crimson, amber and violet! Mountains of infinite variety, fertile valleys, oceans, islands, lakes and rivers! Wondrously growing things! There he could live, BE! He could never return to that innocent young man, but, then, he no longer had interest in recapturing that kind of wonder. He was what he was, and it would bring him what he desired. Beauty. Valaris had beauty. In abundance.

A real world, don't you think? Would love to hear your opinion.

The 'gods'

Herald, lift your bugle! The gods have come!

Using magic to travel via doorways through the spaces, insubstantial as a breath of wind, faster than any light, they materialized seconds apart in the clearing. Like to Drasso and his kind, when they sought entrance through the barrier of the space warp surrounding Valaris skies, it proved assailable then and it proved so now; the warp was no barrier to real magic, and thus not to them.

Belun of the Centuar arrived first and he grinned as he landed. Time for action! His golden tail was raised high in challenge and swished gracefully. When physical battles were enjoined Centuar plaited their tails in intricate patterns- the symbolism of war. Belun’s eyes were silver with dark blue pupils, the pupils contracting and expanding in light and dark. His glorious wings, folded now, glinted in the sunlight; a shimmering palette of gold and silver. He was a truly magnificent sight. Let it be said here a Centuar is not a Centaur, a confusion for those who don’t know the truth. A Centaur is a myth, a story, a tale, and may even be real in the back ends of time, for myth frequently has basis in reality, but a Centuar is of the universe, part of time and history and reality, a created legend that continues to breathe and function, think and act. Belun, if one dared query the distinction, would snap at one for confusing one with the other.

Glint of the Sagorin and Llettynn of the Siric arrived simultaneously. Llettynn was in his usual white attire, wings folded sedately. Glint, whose skin tone was a paler green than his companions, had divested himself of eye-catching amber to don shades of green that blended with the Forest; even his boots were green, which Belun smirked at, and only his hair relieved the severity of camouflage. It hung loose, long and enviably thick, the purest white.

Saska of the Sylmer appeared three seconds after, arriving closest to the Well. She complemented Glint in her green tones, but had swapped elven slippers for sturdy hiking boots and tinkling bracelets were missing. A broad leather strap adorned her left upper arm, studded with crimson, sapphire and saffron gems. This was more than adornment; it was a highly effective weapon.

Taranis, having ascertained his team’s safe arrival, came last, appearing at the edge of the clearing, his muscular form clad entirely in grey, the most effective colour of concealment.

He strode forward to meet up at the Well of Crystal Sound.

(using colour to illustrate the impact Guardians have on others)

Gathering of Rain

There is a darkness coming

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Taranis

Taranis strode over to the dais. He disdained clothes of any purpose other than functionality and was thus casually clad in plain black breeches tucked into leather boots and a blue linen shirt. His hair, thick and dark, teased the collar of his shirt.

He stepped up and laid his sword and scabbard down, and turned to survey the gathered. Grey eyes crinkled in a greeting smile.

He knew all present were able to perform the tasks he had for them this occasion…and sighed. Today was a day of choices. Potentially, it could get heated before calm reigned. They would all step forward to offer hands, minds and lives, and he could select only four. His eyes warmed when he noticed individuals catch his gaze deliberately. At one time or another each had been a teacher to him. Each taught him well, each was a friend. The wheel had turned, however, and today he was the teacher. He thought his ability to lead stemmed from his uniqueness and singularity, for they were multiple units and could argue hard before unanimous decision.

Calling the Clans

Further north still, where snow capped the mountains even in summer, the Kinna were about daily tasks. Mordan didn’t have much to do. He was too old for energy-consuming chores and left those now to the younger ones.

This day the clan was out picking nuts, barring the old couple up on the hillside working the vegetable patch behind their cottage, so he sat slumbering under the big fig tree and allowed his thoughts to roam. A strange look crossed his face, but there was no one to see it. After a time, he rose carefully and gathered survival essentials, including his oak staff with its gnarled head and scored grooves. He ambled unhurriedly to the river’s edge where the rafts and rough dugouts were pulled up onto the bank. The sun threw polite shadows onto gritty sand.

He chose a raft, for it seemed easier to handle. The South River would take him to the Forest in quick time; heart somewhat erratic, he set out. It had been a while since he handled a craft alone on the water.

Gathering of Rain

Infinity

From the dark beyond the fire came the most dangerous creature Kylan had ever encountered. As a Herbmaster he often went where others did not and saw different creatures and strange animals on four legs and six, but never this. Jess’ hackles were raised. No amount of calling on the Deities would help him, and likely they did not hear a lone human.

The creature was blue with an underlying pulse of purple…colours like the eggs. It had been a premonition; he just wasn’t afforded the time to figure it out…not that he’d have come to this conclusion. It was naked, obviously female and very alluring. Her skin tone wasn’t repulsive in the least. Her hair was long and blue, swaying gently in the night air. Shaped and sized as a human female, she was extraordinarily sensual...until he saw her eyes, until he looked.

They were voids, transparent pools so deep they were eternal. If he stared too long he’d certainly drown, spiralling into infinity, over and over and over and…he hurriedly looked away. He didn’t know how he knew her eyes could kill, only that they would.

She laughed. It was a knowing sound that was also the sweetest he had heard. The danger was far worse than he at first thought. He knew who she was, but until now hadn’t believed she existed. She was a myth, a legend, a tale.

...spiralling into infinity…

This was Infinity, the blue dara-witch.

According to legend and tale and myth she was the mother of all gods, immune to death and sorcery. The legend further stated that one could live forever if one subjected one’s soul to her eternal will. This before him was no dream and no legend. His brief glimpse into her eyes that were not eyes revealed to him clearly the price for eternal life was death, in any way she devised, endlessly repeated for her twisted pleasure. It was eternal death and it was endless.

He had to get away NOW.

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A throwing star?

McSee heaved a huge big sigh and then pulled from his tunic four metal stars. Two black and two silver; they glittered on his palm. He said nothing, knowing they said more than he could.

‘They’re technology gismos!’ Saska gasped, astonished.

‘Indeed,’ Rain said. ‘How did you come by them?’

Glint started to laugh. ‘I don’t know, Taranis,’ he chortled. ‘I mean, sorcerers and necromancers, the Oracles and the Medaillon, all crawling from the woodwork of a narrow, backward world…the Ruby, I ask you! And now technology does the same! Hell, we should take pause and rethink this whole thing.’

‘I suspect you’re right, Glint,’ Taranis remarked and was entirely serious.

‘Explain!’ Rain barked out, ignoring both Glint’s hilarity and Taranis’ speculation.

For an instant he wanted to quip something about the shoe being on the other foot, but one look at Rain’s thunderous expression and McSee was forced into silence. Was Rain angry at the presence of technology, or was he angry that he had not known it existed in some form on Valaris?

‘McSee, I’m warning you,’ Rain said. Llettynn and Belun glanced significantly at each other.

‘Fine,’ the big man spat out. ‘Saska was right when she said this is a post-technological world, and we all know it. History tells of the technology that came with the starships and how it was allowed to disintegrate …a bounteous world the settlers called it, and saw no need to hasten the calamities they fled from, mostly caused by over-mechanization and over-reliance on computers and gadgets.’ He jiggled the stars. ‘All was not lost. These stars are harmless in this form, activating only when in motion. Silver paralyses and black are…they are deadly. Innocuous, seemingly, but very dangerous, no doubt another reason they were to vanish, forgotten. A brave new world didn’t need these; humans were alone here and should be able to live in harmony, right? But, again, let us go to history, for it tells how aggressive we are, how we start wars over the tiniest infraction…so, thank God, there were no weapons such as these. Yet they did come with the star ships and someone sometime intended to use them somewhere. Thank God they were allowed to rust away…only they did not. As with the Mantle, the Society is slightly more than what it seems, Rain. There’s still technology on Valaris from settler times, and some of it is highly advanced…well, by our standards anyway. Learning about it, using it, improving and maintaining it, is another of the Society’s duties.’ McSee sighed as he had at the start of his revelation, but his anger had bled away during the relief of confession. ‘It is hidden and safe.’

‘Well,’ Belun remarked.

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The Scrying Bowl

They prepared the fire in the centre. A ceramic dish of pure white, octagonal in shape, needing two men to heft and carry, was carefully brought in. Rosewood was stacked in a pyramid shape in the centre of the heavy dish, ready to be lit. Alongside, a simple wooden bowl, two hands wide, its origin lost to antiquity, stood waiting, the dark wood polished to a high sheen by time and use.

Rosewater dripped, drop by slow drop, into the ancient bowl until it was finally filled. Vannis had given this honour to Namud, and smiled when the young man realised what a tiresome process it was. Generally, as in when scrying for a newborn’s name, this slow process was unnecessary, but given the gravity of their situation, Vannis had opted for the old, formal ceremony. The state of mind it engendered would aid them well, making them more receptive to visions. Well, he needed to be receptive; he would be gazing into the future.

Namud sat back at last, and Vannis took his place before the two dishes. The remaining fifteen sat cross-legged in a circle about him. When all was ready, Vannis nodded, and together they declared: ‘Manik!’ The rosewood burst into fragrant flame to burn with a steady blue light. ‘Saldan!’ and the pyramid collapsed into bright blue embers in the shape of a flying blue dragon. The smell of roses perfumed the air. Vannis nodded at Namud, who shuffled forward on his knees. He lifted the wooden bowl, careful not to spill, and placed it gently on the hot dragon, before briefly dipping his fingers in the warming rosewater and shuffling back into the circle. Silent, the others came to do likewise, dipping fingers to show homage to the future. Last was Vannis, who then remained with his face bent over the steaming water.

He waited until he saw the first bubble shoot to the surface, and then nodded. As one, they declared: ‘Manil!’ The steamy surface of the water instantly cleared and was mirror smooth.

Vannis kept his attention focused on the reflection in order not to miss a moment of the visions that were coming, for future there would be, whether or not any of them lived in it. He cleared his mind even further, while the Valleur collectively held their breaths, afraid to make the slightest move. Never had a scrying been so important.

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