Highmage (Highmage's Plight Book 4) Page 9

  Meltron's companion gaped as the shortest robed removed his cowl. The urchin, Gallen, glared at him. "There were two of them that I saw. That, most assuredly, is one of them."

  "This is outrageous!" cried Meltron. "You stoop to accusing one of the Brethren of foul crimes as if this should gain your cause support! It shall not work!"

  Sianhiel turned to his taller shrouded companions. "The Empress's will be done."

  The mages shrank back at the feel of magery, where magery should have been completely barred this day by the Guild's Enchantment. The bandaged elfblood cried out, throwing up his hands, then along with the taller two robe figures vanished in a burst of light.

  Their black robes fell to the floor as Meltron stared in horror. There was no doubt they had been wardens, now gone to seek out justice.

  His role would be revealed all too quickly. "I protest this profanity of injustice, Lord Sianhiel!"

  The Elflord sighed. "Pray the Wardens do not seek you out next... Come, apprentice, your master awaits."

  Meltron soon found himself quite alone and dared not look in Archmage Kolter's direction. He backed away and appeared to head for his booth. With any luck, he would be quite clear of the Hall before anyone suspected.

  Kolter winced. The plan was unraveling and this latest debacle had cost Grendel two assured votes. What else it may have cost mattered not. Meltron had made himself a distinct liability. The archmage glanced at the portly Faeryn archmage, his chief rival in the Hall. Abernathy actually grinned at his discomfiture.

  The pedestal circle glowed beneath Archmage Regis’s feet. He rose high into air. "Caucus is hereby closed. All herein please return to your places... The election shall now proceed."

  The Empress stiffened as the columns of light rose on her right and left. The right served as the tally for those votes supporting Lord Grendel; the left those of the human mage, Je'orj du Bradlei.

  Archmage Regis bowed to her from above. "As by tradition, the order shall proceed by elfblood mages first and foremost. Since the Order of Unity, I have been recently informed is present, they shall be called forth second. Elvin mages shall be next acknowledged. The Imperial Archmages as well as the High Healer will then be called, followed by the Great Houses.

  "It has also be decided that as a human mage, previously unprecedented, Lord Je'orj du Bradlei is best considered as a Founder of his Cathartan House, which is listed as an official Embassy within the Realm, and thus, he shall be called to vote at the time," Regis coughed, "of his peerage."

  That was greeted with some consternation and quite a few shouts of rage from the more conservative members. The Empress carefully schooled her face, though, the Lyai and Abernathy seemed quite pleased with themselves. As she knew, they should be, wondering how they had manage to get Regis to concede to that Je'orj du Bradlei was equal to a Provincial Lord of the Empire.

  When silence returned to the Hall, Regis raised his hand. "All rise who have vote right within this Hall."

  George rose beside his pillar, his apprentices standing steadfastly be his side. Raven was perched atop staff, warily watching the crowd as Revit glimpsed Grendel rise with a smug look of triumph on his face.

  The Hall rustled with the movement of literally thousands. The tiers seemed to brim with elvin faces, rising almost to the ceiling which arched the top of the seventh tier. The Provincial Elflords held the bottom, narrowest tier. Pure elvin mages lined the third, seeming far too few to Aaprin and Gallen as they glanced about them. Faeryn mages stood in their midst, yet more of their brethren rested in the fourth, fifth, and six tiers among the rank of more acknowledged elfblooded adepts and masters. The Seventh tier was crammed with the journeymen, much younger elfbloods.

  It was those who stood in the Second Tier, who drew Terus' attention. At first he was uncertain about the reason for his unease and found himself the uncomfortable focus of the Lady Karolynia's gaze. The elvin lady stood half way across the chamber; however, he could sense her continuing to take his measure. It was altogether rather unnerving.

  "My Elfblooded cousins, you are called to vote in Conclave... You may begin."

  Then the most beautiful music the children had ever heard was sung. The elfbloods in the middle and upper tiers raised their hands and willow-wisps of light swarmed.

  The song brought tears to the Empress's eyes. It was a song for Alrex, yet more so. It carried a wisp of their personalities, floating as if clouds.

  Gently they descended and divided, merged again, and danced about the two pillars without touching.

  The song seemed to go on forever before the first wisp settled, bringing Grendel's pillar the first burst of color. Again and again, the elfblooded mage's pillar flared into a rainbow.

  George frowned while staff began a litany of observations. Then a large number of wisps pulled away from the cloud. They turned toward George and coalesced into an elvin figure, who smiled at him and bowed.

  "Alrex," he muttered, unable to hold back his sense of awe.

  Abruptly the form strode forward and entered the empty white pillar. There was a brilliant flash of light and George nearly collapsed. :Emergency!: flared the staff struggling to deal with the overwhelming force crashing upon them.

  Aaprin hurriedly supported George on one side, a startled Gallen, the other even as Raven reared back and leaped to land. Shimmering into human form, the naked girl clung to her foster father. "Papa!" she cried, hugging him close.

  Shaking his head, George recovered enough to reply, "I'm all right... Just took me by surprise." When next he looked the wisps were gone entirely and the elvin song was ended, which left him feeling hollow inside.

  George sensed he had every Faeryn vote and no few elfbloods. He could practically taste Master Stenh's confidence and those of many others. When he looked Grendel's column was half full and his only a quarter complete. He felt the pit of his stomach drop.

  Regis announced, "Those who have voted may now sit." The middle to upper tiers rustled. A few mages still stood. Regis acknowledged them. "Should you choose to, you may vote at the conclusion of election but not before."

  The elfbloods nodded.

  "The Order of Unity is now called to vote."

  Three black robed figures descended from the Third Tier. His Eminence, the Prelate of the Order moved to stand opposite the Empress and bowed. "Lady… my order carries the Right of Proxy... Do you stand to hear the choices of your Northern Defenders?"

  "I do."

  The aged elf nodded to the mage priest on his right, who knelt before Grendel and began to chant. The priest’s body began to tremble as a pulse of lightning rose from his chest and hovered momentarily before him.

  The Prelate announced, "Three hundred and twelve mages have chosen you Mage Grendel."

  The Elfblood grinned exultantly as the light entered his blazing pillar of multicolored light. Its volume rose significantly higher against the white glare above it.

  The second elvin priest turned to George and nodded to him rather stiffly, then began to chant. A ball of light appeared in the elf's hand as the Prelate sighed, "Twenty-six mages have chosen you, Je'orj du Bradlei, as their choice."

  The ball of light flew into his column, making hardly a dent. The Prelate did not turn away. "Empress, Lords, Ladies, Brethen mages... The Northern Mages are concerned for our Unity. They made a most difficult decision. One, I advised them against... But the impartiality of the Order makes my duty here today certain.”

  The Prelate began to chant. His body beginning to glow, then slowly rose into the air. The glow became a thing of intense blue flame, growing larger and larger as it burst forth from the aged mage. It rose above him, dropping him to the floor, yet the Prelate never paused in his chant.

  Incandescent flame burst forward and swamped George's column. The shock was worse than the last. George collapsed in a heap as Aaprin, Gallen, and Raven cried out in backlash shock, taking the brunt of the overflow; they were so close to him.

  Staff flared bring
protective barriers even higher into play, while Revit and Terus reeled back then stared. George’s column was now practically of the same height as Grendel's and the mage seemed none too pleased.

  Archmage Regis called a brief recess as he leaped spritely from his floating podium as those nearest hurried to aid the stricken group.

  Grendel shouted, "See, he cannot handle such power! How shall he ever serve—?"

  "SILENCE!" commanded the Empress. "The time for debate has ended." There was a look of speculation in the eyes of those yet to vote.

  Chapter

  13

  "Je'orj, are you all right?" someone said to him seemingly from quite a distance.

  :Shield capacity down seventy-eight percent… Re-routing… Overload at—: Staff's litany droned on as George shook his head, seeing stars and groaned. Abruptly he realized, he was not the only one groaning.

  :Aaprin and Gallen were caught totally unprepared. Yet, they are regaining consciousness. Raven on the other hand...:

  "Raven," George muttered as he pulled the child closer. He stroked her hair and concentrated. The effort made his head feel as if it might split open like a ripe melon. He sensed damage and smoothed and corrected it.

  :George, do that again, but here, here and here... most amazing. Where did you learn that technique?:

  "What are you talking about?" he mumbled faintly as Archmage Abernathy bent close to see if he could extricate the naked little girl from George’s fierce grip.

  Staff flashed. :Mage, leave them alone.:

  Abernathy blinked and stared at the faintly glowing staff, cradled in a seemingly precarious hold by the human mage. Revit and Terus chimed together, "Take his advice. Staff knows what to do."

  Shrugging, the Faeryn of Faeryn rose and kept the other onlookers back.

  :George, look you did this and this, which seems to have shunted the overload here.: Raven twitched. :Now can we try the same thing on you?:

  "Me? Now how do you suggest I do that to myself?"

  A presence intruded. 'Can I help?'

  George blinked blearily. "Raven?"

  :Good girl,: Staff said. :Here's what I want you to try doing for your Papa.:

  George coughed as he rose with his foster daughter, Raven, in his arms. "Uh, sorry about that, won't happen again, just a point of incompatibility that needed a new link."

  He actually felt incredibly good. So did Raven. She reached up and kissed his cheek, "Thank you, Papa."

  :Hey, do not forget I had a hand in this.:

  "I won't, Staff," the girl promised shyly, looking at the too many people gathered around. She shimmered and growled. They stepped hastily back, then glanced at her foster-father and mentally sent, 'Me human mage, too, now.'

  George blinked, then petted her sleek black mane. That was the most she had ever said to him. "You certainly are getting there."

  Archmage Regis frowned, "Lord Je'orj, are you well enough for us to proceed?"

  Aaprin and Gallen were half clinging to each other. "Give us a few moments more, then we'll be ready."

  Regis noted something different about the human mage and hurriedly replied, "As you wish."

  Abernathy saw the look of surprise flash across Regis's face. He followed the elvin archmage's gaze, then stared. The human mage was glowing ever so faintly and so even much more faintly was the pale black maned were-beast, Raven.

  "My brethren mages, you are called to vote in election... Proceed."

  The elves in the Third Tier paused. Elvin sight was keen. They had watched the human mage's adaption that was like nothing they had ever seen before. The man actually glowed and his staff was matching his color. Staff would have explained to him that they were merely matching frequency with the power of the column's mageborn light, yet, the column seemed to be constantly shifting frequency. Staff, with inhuman accuracy, matched each fluctuation and change, which should end the shock George had been experiencing.

  Slowing, elvin mages reached decisions. The chant was far from harmonious this time. Wisps arched straight to the columns, right and left until the chanting abruptly stopped.

  The columns were roughly equally filled with bursts of light.

  Archmage Regis announced, "Archmages of the Aqwaine Empire, we are called to vote in election... Hayden, youngest of Provinces, you are first called."

  Kolter grimly rose and met the gazes of the elvin lords and ladies standing throughout the Second Tier. He sang of elvin glory against human treachery throughout the Age since the Empire was founded. His energy was no mere wisp of self, but a great ball that coalesced into an image of their very world.

  It orbited Grendel's column of light, then entered in a burst of exuberant flame. There was applause as Kolter returned to his place and sat.

  "Youngest of Archmage Orders," proclaimed Regis, "claiming no single Province as home but the Empire itself, Faeryn, you are called."

  The portly Abernathy walked toward the column, then bowed to the Empress. "I need no voice to sing, no chant to bring forth magery." He waved his hands. "Many of you consider this heresy after Faeryn's time as Highmage these centuries past." The short mage began to glow visibly.

  "His innovations had served your Empire well. Perhaps, that is why we supported the first human mage's entry among our number... He uses no spell, no chant, disclaims any use of magic, whatsoever." A bubble of light now formed about him as his fingers seemed to dance with the very air.

  "Yet, Highmage I believe he should be. His gift… that we must not fight the Dark only otherwise shall be ignored. His Human Lore the greatest gift ever to be brought to us!"

  Abernathy stood within the corona of the very Sun itself. It rose toward the ceiling, bathing the chamber in the light of a fine spring day. A moment later in settled against the apex of George's column.

  For a moment, the human mage was bathed in a matching corona, which was viewed with astonishment.

  Abernathy, the Faeryn of Faeryn, nodded to George before returning to his place, and grinning at Kolter.

  Regis looked to the Empress. "Majesty, I am called to vote in election. I hold the Right of Proxy for my brother archmage in Lyai. The Archmages of Llewellyn, Tane, and Rian have chosen to abstain themselves."

  "Proceed," his monarch commanded.

  The elvin mage bowed, then sang. Two balls of flames became shooting stars leaping from his hands. Both sailed toward Grendel's column, shot around it and entered the human mage's. Regis then turned back toward the silent crowd. "Healer of Healers, Master Ofran, you are called to represent your Craft of Magery."

  Balfour’s uncle, Ofran, stepped down from the Third Tier, where he had stood alone now. He began to chant of things of life, of health, growth, and change and smiled at his nephew's friend and mentor. His light was one of vitality, sprouting in the form of a tree, whose glowing roots reached out for nurturing by the font of George's column. A moment later, the light was completely absorbed.

  George smiled. Ofran grinned back at him and returned to his booth.

  "The Great Houses are called to vote in Election."

  The lords and ladies seemed almost universally quite young, but George was not fooled. These were by-in-large the elders of all the elvin Houses of the Empire. The Lady Karolynia was first to raise hand and chant. A blast of energy, impossible to ignore shot straight to George's column with a spectacular shower of light across the spectrum.

  "Grandmother! How could you?" Grendel shouted as the second response was made, also in the human's favor.

  The Lady Otummond shook her head and said to Grendel, "You've proved such a disappointment."

  The elfblood stared, unable to believe how alliances had shifted.

  A flash of light shot from Sianhiel's hand, marking a third vote in George's favor, then Elflords and ladies demonstrated their own decisions. Light arched and flashed from the hands of over thirty elves.

  George blinked. Staff confirmed it. He was marginally ahead by one vote.

  Regis proclaimed, "Hig
h Lords of the Aqwaine Empire, you are called to vote in election."

  Lord Tane rose, chanted a verse, then a bolt of cyan fire supported

  Grendel. Lord Hayden rose and sang out. His bolt was of lightning, cracking thunder across the Hall and supported Grendel.

  Lord Lyai smiled at George, nodded in respect, and sang out. A rainbow hue poured forth from the young elfblood's fingertips bathing George's column so long that as the computer staff matched the power's frequency, George became bathed as if he was at the rainbow's end.

  Revit and Terus thought that one really ranked. Aaprin shut them up in a hurry, never noticing the strange musing look that crossed Gallen's brow.

  The Llewellyn grinned at Grendel. He sang out and opened his hand to a dancing sprite of flame, the symbol of his lands.

  It arched toward Grendel's column, then abruptly stopped. The Llewellyn sang louder, becoming strident as lords, ladies and mages began muttering in surprise. The sprite of flame began to grow, struggling to edge forward.

  "USURPER!" rang out echoing across the hall and the sprite shot to the center of the room and again proclaimed, "USURPER!"

  The Llewleyn gaped, the spell forgotten, yet the magic remained. It grew and coalesced into an elvin form. The being looked right and left at the lords and ladies, then bowed to the Empress, "I CANNOT REST, LADY. MY PEOPLE, OUR LAND, ALL ARE BETRAYED BY THIS ONE BEFORE YOU."

  The Empress gaped, then rasped, "Regis, what is this?"

  With a gasp, Regis muttered, "Llewellyn?"

  "MY LINE YET LIVES! YET YOU LET THIS USURPER, ONE OF MY VERY MURDERERS RULE!"

  "This cannot be!" the living Llewellyn cried. "This is a hoax! Wardens! I demand the Wardens investigate this farce!"

  The figure shimmered, once more became the sprite of flame. "MY BLOODLINE SURVIVES... THEY SHALL RETURN AND YOUR FOUL PACT WITH THE DARK ONE UNDONE SHALL BE!"