Richard Baker: The City of Ravens

"Good," the lady in blue said. "I have something that I would like you to do for me, and it will be easier if you choose to live."

He looked at her again and tried to focus clearly on who he was, who she might be, but it was difficult. It seemed impossible that a lady such as she could have anything she needed anyone to do for her.

"What is it, my lady?"

"The wild mythal still exists, unbound, untamed," she said. "I could rend the Weave to silence it, but if I did so, I fear that no magic would ever work there again, perhaps not anywhere within a hundred miles of the spot where it stands. The safest thing to do is to disperse its power among a great number of people, as I have always done. In the hands of one person, a weapon may be dangerous. Break it into a thousand pieces and give it to a thousand people to carry, and it is much less threatening. I wish you to accept a greater portion of the load."

He simply stared at her. "Why?"

"The wild mythal also needs a will to tame it, a spirit to guide its sentience. The Warlord's will not suffice; you exiled her to a very distant plane when you expelled her from the stone. If you relinquish your bond, the mythal will select another, and its preference is likely to be dangerous. It has tasted of Jelan's ambitions and hungers for more. With my help, you will check the mythal's dangers."

"Am I to use it to help people?"

"Use it as you see fit," the lady replied. "It might be best if the wild mythal served no purpose, malign or benign, but it is a mortal magic and thus a mortal decision. I wish to make sure that the Weave remains whole. Fetter the stone for me, and that will be enough. Will you do this for me?"

He thought for a moment, understanding that this also was a serious question. Then he nodded. "I will."

The lady smiled and said no more. She faded away, leaving him adrift in a white maze.

Some time later, he awoke. To his surprise, the whiteness was still there. He rested in a white bed, in a white room with white curtains. And Illyth sat beside him, also dressed in white. She was reading a book, but she looked up at Jack when she felt his eyes on her.

"You're awake," she said in surprise.

"Did you see the lady?" Jack asked.

"Lady? You must have seen me watching over you," Illyth said. She smiled. "You've been unconscious for more than a week. We thought we would lose you."

Jack started to sit up, but the lightness in his head dissuaded him. He lay back down in the pillows. "A week? What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

"We were at the mythal stone. I used the ring of stone to shove Jelan into the mythal and then closed it on her. Then the water-"

"Zandria teleported us away just in time. A moment more, and I fear we all would have been drowned. As it was, you barely survived. Jelan almost killed you, Jack."

"What of the city, the shadows, all the rest?" he asked.

Illyth smiled and set down her book. She came close and laid a hand on his forehead. "Jelan had arranged for a coup to begin as soon as she mastered the mythal. She had hired companies of mercenaries throughout the city-there was fighting in the street all day, and her troops were backed by some of the merchant houses loyal to the Lady Mayor and noble houses seeking to settle old feuds during the chaos. The mayor's office is vacant, as you might imagine; the deputy mayor is filling in for the moment. There have been no shadow attacks since we were in Sarbreen. Zandria says that any shadows left might have dissipated when Yu Wei died, so things are getting back to normal, I guess."

"Do they still mean to execute me?" Jack asked.

"For your valor in defeating the Warlord and your help in unmasking her duplicity, the High Magistrate has granted you a full pardon," Illyth said. "Of course, that is dependent on the consensus of the Council of Lords, but it seems likely to be confirmed when the noble council-or what's left of it-meets again."

"I'd better start looking into this," Jack said. He started to lever himself up and abruptly found himself flat on his back. Illyth had pushed him back down with one hand. He winced. "Maybe later."

"Maybe later," Illyth smiled.