The Silver Mage - Katharine Kerr [138]
“I shall hold my tongue, then.” He rumbled again. “If you’ll move a safe distance away, I’ll fly off. The thought of those immigrants troubles my heart.”
Valandario had just finished casting a divination when she heard Dallandra calling her. She took a quick look at the arrangement of gems on the scrying cloth—nothing of particular interest—then went to the door of the tent to answer.
“I need to consult with you about a ritual,” Dallandra said. “Concerning the dragon book. Laz hasn’t been able to find it, and I’m wondering if the time’s truly ripe.”
“Come in, then,” Valandario said. “What’s brought this on?”
“Rori’s finally made up his mind. He wants to be transformed.”
“Finally, indeed!”
Dallandra ducked under the tent flap. They stood looking down at the gemstones glimmering on Valandario’s divination cloth.
“Naught there about the book,” Val said. “You mentioned a ritual?”
“I”ve come to realize,” Dallandra said, “that the dragon book generates a current on the astral. That current most likely flows toward Rori. He can’t retrieve it when he’s flying all over the Northlands.”
“He couldn’t pick it up without hands, for that matter, even if it landed on his snout.”
Dallandra laughed. “Just so. There are spirits attached to it, and spirits are just so literal-minded. It’s a very powerful artifact. All of Evandar’s creations were.”
“It’s a pity he didn’t realize it.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well, do you think he considered the consequences when he unleashed these things upon the world? Or were they just toys to him?”
Anger flared in Dallandra’s eyes. Valandario looked steadily back until Dallandra shrugged and turned half-away. “Perhaps they were. Consequences—no, he didn’t understand them, not at first, anyway.” Dalla sighed and turned back. “But about the ritual, I thought we might see if the current could be redirected toward Laz.”
“Very well. I suggest we hold the ritual just before dawn. That will enlist the sun power. As it rises, it’ll shed its light upon us and the query both.”
“I like that idea. Will you take the east, then?”
“Yes. And if we put Grallezar in the south and Branna in the west, that leaves the north for you.”
“That’s appropriate. I’m the one who’s going to have to wrest this dweomer out of the darkness.” Dallandra paused, thinking. “We’ll let Neb stand as sentinel. He does so resent being left out of these workings.”
“I have no objection to that. I’ve been meaning to ask you, in fact, if he’ll be part of the Haen Marn ritual.” Val smiled briefly. “Assuming we ever find the wretched book, that is.”
“No, he won’t. The dragon represents a tremendous binding of male force. I think it’ll be best to have the counterbalance be as female as possible.” Dallandra paused again. “I’ll have to meet Mara—Berwynna’s twin, you know—before I can tell if she should take part. From what Laz said, she’s mostly untrained.”
“The sentinel again, then. Um, another question. How are we going to all get to this island? I take it you can’t hold one of the roads open long enough for all of us.”
“I may not have to. It may be possible to bring Haen Marn to the Lake of the Leaping Trout. Branna had a vision while she was meditating. She thinks that might have been one of its original homes.”
“One of them?”
“That’s all she knows. Speaking of being untrained and all that, she doesn’t know how to extend her visions yet. We shall see, however, sooner or later. Assuming, as you say, we can find the wretched book.”
On the morrow, some while before dawn, the dweomerworkers—Valandario thought of them as a warband of sorts—trooped out of the camp and walked out into an untrammeled stretch of grass. Val and Dalla trod out a ritual circle, marked it with powdered charcoal, then used their consecrated swords to level the grass within. Since they wanted to put the spirits of the working at ease, they laid the swords down to make an equal-armed cross in the circle’s center. Neb,