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Lord Haladavar leaned his head over to the ear of Lord Urddusk and murmured, "Be at ease! He says this so he can retreat from his plan with dignity! We've won!"

Unfortunately, the Lady Herald seemed to have left some trace of her voice-hurling magic behind, for the whispered words carried to every corner of the chamber. Lord Haladavar flushed a deep, rich red, but the Coronal laughed merrily and said, "No, lords, I mean it! Opening we shall have-but an Opening with the People well protected!"

"I suppose we'll now waste the best efforts of our young mages on this now, for the next twoscore seasons or so," Lord Malgath snapped.

The flash of one of the old-fashioned little globes known as "come hither" signals spilled forth among the courtiers then, and everyone looked to see its source. As a buzz of conversation arose and Lord Malgath's comment hung unanswered, the Lady Herald cut through the gaping ranks of well-dressed elves like a wasp seeking to sting, and came at last to an aged elf in dark, plain robes. She smiled, turned to face the Throne, and announced, "Mythanthar would speak."

The three lords frowned in puzzlement as the courtiers burst again into excited whispers, but the Coronal made the gesture for silence. When it had fallen, the Lady Herald touched the old mage with her sleeve, and by her magic his thin, quavering voice rang clear to every corner of that vast hall. "I would remind Cormanthans of the 'spell fields' I tried to develop from mantles, for use by our war captains, three thousand years agone. Our need passed, and I turned to other things, but I know now what direction to work in, where I was ignorant before. In elder days, our magic weavers could easily alter how magic worked in a given area. I shall craft a spell that does the same, and give Cormanthor its mantle. From end to end of this fair city there shall be a 'mythal.' Give me three seasons to get started, and I shall then be able to give thee a count of how many more I shall need."

There was a momentary silence as everyone waited for him to say more, but Mythanthar waved that he was done, and turned away from the herald; the Court erupted in excited chatter.

"My lord," Lord Malgath snapped, approaching the Throne and raising his arms in his anxiousness to be heard (overhead, the Srinshee aimed two scepters at him, her face set and stern), "please hear me: it is imperative that this 'mythal' deny the working of any magic by all N'Tel'Quess-in fact, by all who are not purebloods of Cormanthor!"

"And it must reveal to all the alignments of folk entering it," Lord Haladavar said excitedly, "to protect us from the shapeshifting beasts and all who dare to impersonate elves, or even specific elven lords!"

"Well said!" Lord Urddusk echoed. "It should also, and for the same reason, make invisible things visible at its boundaries, and prevent teleportation into or out of it, or we'll have invading armies of adventurers in our laps every night!"

Nearly every elf at court was crowding forward now, bobbing their heads, waving their arms, and shouting their own suggestions; as the din mounted, the Coronal finally spread his hands in resignation and pressed one of the buttons set deep in one arm of the Throne.

There was a blinding brilliance as the Coronal's lightshock wave took effect. It kept almost everyone from seeing the dagger hurled at the Coronal from the ranks of courtiers. That blade struck the field created by the scepter in the Srinshee's left hand and was transported to an empty storage cellar deep under the north wing of the palace.

It also had its intended effect: everyone except the Coronal on his throne staggered backward, stunned into silence.

Into the gentle moaning sounds that followed, as folk fought to clear the swirling lights from their eyes, the ruler of all Cormanthor said gently, "No mythal can hope to include every desire expressed by every Cormanthan, but I intend that it act on as many as are possible and tenable. Please make all