Michael Stackpole - When Dragons Rage

That which will please my mistress. That which will allow him to fulfill her desires . Neskartu shifted his gaze to Isaura by floating his eyes around to the left side of his head. You know your part, Princess .

Isaura drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, then closed her eyes. She invoked a simple spell that allowed her to see things in the realm of magick. By this sight, Vionna did not register at all. Neskartu appeared to be much the same as always, and the Thaumatorium glowed green with the residual effects of countless magicks.

The man inside the egg had taken on the grey of ash. Stepping forward, Isaura invoked another spell. She reached her hands up, and they passed through the sides of the shell as if it were not there. Had she desired to do so, she could have reached into the Azure Spider’s chest and with the brush of a finger stilled his racing heart. She knew that could be done because she had seen it done with animals, but her mother had only done that so Isaura could learn to set it to beating again before the soul had left the body.

With her hands in place on his head and heart, she concentrated and felt the river flowing around her. There was little for her to see and less to hear, but currents raced past, teasing and buffeting—at times playful and at others resentful. The most violent she let slip past, then found one that suited her needs. Isaura drew it into her, then projected it into the man.

Pure magickal energy flowed into him, dissolving his physical nature as quickly as boiling water dissolves inkstone powder. The energy flooded into the shell, roiling and rising, fighting the confines. Surges shot to the apex, then dripped back down again, unable to escape and seeking a place to run.

A surge of energy from Lord Neskartu injected itself into the mix. It provided direction through a complex series of spells. Isaura caught hints of urZrethi magick, but since the object was transformation, that hardly was a surprise. Other bits and pieces, elven and human, swirled past, then odd things joined them. Neskartu had clearly been fashioning some magicks of his own. They came from human roots, but had been woven differently and were unrecognizable.

Is this the betrayal my mother fears ?

Though no answer came to that question, the magicks the sullanciri employed did their work. The Azure Spider shook and twitched. His spirit clawed at the new shape in which it was imprisoned. She could feel the man’s outrage and shock, but she did not pity him. She could understand fear, but she knew the rewards her mother would grant for serving her. In the world free of southern tyranny, he would be among the most grand heroes, worshipped for all time.

It is done, Princess.

Isaura nodded and drew her hands back, then returned to her place. She I blinked, canceling the spells she’d cast, and slowly smiled at Vionna. “It went well.”

The pirate queen had paled and stared wide-eyed at the floating egg. , “What did you do?”

One last burst of power flowed from Neskartu and toward the egg. The floating ovoid blazed blue, then began to shrink. From the size of a man’s torso, it shrank slowly and silently to something barely larger than a hen’s egg. At the last it drifted to Vionna and she cupped it in both hands. The magickal cord connecting it to the sullanciri snapped and she almost dropped the egg.

He will rest now. You shall keep him close to you, nestled against you, for warmth—his, not yours .

She shook her head. “I am not some hen to incubate an egg.”

Neskartu’s thoughts lashed her. You are what my mistress wishes you to be. And not a hen, a courier. Spyr’skara is required in Meredo a day hence .

Vionna frowned. “Impossible. That journey would take months.”

My mistress knows you fail at the possible, so she would not set before you the impossible. You will be conducted there. When you are, open the egg and release him.

“Will it be safe?” The pirate queen looked at the egg. “He was not pleased with me before, and I suspect he will be less so now.”

He will do as bidden and, for now, he is bidden not to harm you. You have a more important task, for you shall take the princess with you.

Isaura’s silver eyes grew wide. “To the Southlands? I am going south?”

It is as your mother desires, Princess. You will go and observe. She wishes this. She wishes you to bring the ruby replica so you may aid in the recovery of that Truestone . A certain pleasure drifted through the sullanciri’s thoughts. In there you will learn, Princess, learn much that will determine the future .

Isaura started to smile, then a shiver shook her. She had never ventured outside Aurolani domains. While she hungered to see the world her mother had described—no matter its faults—the prospect daunted her. She feared her reactions but, far worse, she feared disappointing her mother.

She nodded. “I shall do as I am bidden, Lord Neskartu.”

Of course you shall, Princess . The swirling of colors in his form quickened. And you, Vionna ?

The pirate looked at the egg, then sighed. “It seems the custom to do as one is bidden. I shall not disappoint.”

Very good. The alternative would have been unpleasant . The sullanciri let an arm flow out to the left. Come and enjoy the rewards the empress offers her allies. Tonight you shall be feasted, and tomorrow you shall earn even greater favor .

Princess Alexia smiled carefully as she sat in the audience chamber where Crow’s trial had begun. The room was not exactly small, but was far smaller than the palace’s throne room. Unlike the throne room, this chamber had not undergone extensive restoration. While it still featured strong columns upholding a vaulted roof, the walls had not been covered with wooden panels. Tapestries depicting ancient history, a few in serious need of repair, covered them instead.

At the narrow end of the rectangular room, a set of three thrones had I been placed, with the centermost pushed slightly back. In it sat Prince Linchmere. Though Alexia knew him to be in his mid-thirties, the man’s soft and I unremarkable features belied his age. Of average height and on the considerably rounder side of lean, even the fierce visage into which his mask had been worked could not supply him strength or presence. When he listened to eviI dence, he listened distractedly, and the princess was fairly certain that at least I once he had fallen asleep.

Augustus, wearing a thin, black courtesy mask, took the throne at Linchmere’s right hand, placing him closest to Alexia. Furthest was Queen Carus of Jerana, a small woman with black hair and restless dark eyes. She wore an embroidered gown of light blue, and had been given a lacy courtesy mask dyed to match. In direct contrast to Linchmere, she listened to things closely and questioned witnesses sharply. She savaged Cabot Marsham as the man testified to things he had said before the Council of Kings a quarter century before, and clearly had studied Jeranese records of the proceedings as she called for constant clarifications of his statements.

Crow sat in the prisoner’s docket, with iron shackles securing his feet. He’d been washed and had pulled his white hair back into a tail knotted with black leather. He’d only been allowed simple clothing, but did not appear at all uncomfortable in it, save when a cold draft touched him.

So far the trial had been going well. Marsham had clearly been the cornerstone of the prosecution, but Queen Carus pointed to inconsistencies between what he had said before and what he was telling them now. Moreover, she.pointed out, correctly, that his only knowledge of events had come through conversations with Hawkins. This reduced the whole of his testimony to the level of hearsay, which she was not inclined to countenance.