Robert Newcomb - The Scrolls of the Ancients

"Forgive me, Father," Celeste began, "but are you sure this is a good time to be doing this? What about Wulfgar and his fleet?"

"Now is the best possible time," Faegan answered. "In other ways, it is also the worst. And Wulfgar is the reason behind both. If he truly is on the way, we want to get the acolytes to safety as quickly as we can, before he can influence them. And if Grizelda was lying and Wulfgar is not advancing on us, then why wait? Your father and I thought long and hard about this, and finally decided to go ahead."

Tristan looked over at Wigg, and the lead wizard's face darkened. "And the other thing you called us here to discuss?" Tristan asked. "What is it?"

Ignoring Tristan's question, Wigg looked sternly at both of them. "We are sorry to have to ask you this, but we must know if the two of you have been intimate. And if you have, how many times this occurred."

Tristan and Celeste stared at him, shocked. "How could you ask such a thing?" the prince demanded. "Besides, this really isn't the time for-"

"Just tell us," Wigg interrupted sternly. "Trust me when I say that we have our reasons. It is vitally important that we know."

Had any other man asked him this, Tristan might well have knocked him down. But these were Wigg and Faegan, and the wizards always had their reasons. Still, he scowled.

"Once," he answered. Annoyed, he crossed his arms over his chest. Celeste blushed.

"When was it?" Wigg asked.

"Yesterday morning."

"And during your time with one another, did either of you see an azure glow form, then disappear?"

Tristan looked over at Celeste. He took her hand, then looked back at Wigg. "I may have," he said tentatively.

"That's not good enough," Wigg shot back impatiently. "Either you did, or you didn't."

"I was half asleep," Tristan answered. "And that's the best answer I can give you. Even now I cannot be sure whether it was a dream or whether it was real."

"What is all of this about?" Celeste asked anxiously. "Is there something wrong?"

Wigg's expression softened a bit, and he held one hand out to her. "Please stand, and come to me," he asked her quietly. She did so.

Wigg looked to the table at large. "Everyone please be still," he asked. "What I am about to do is very important."

Reaching out with his free hand, he placed his palm onto Celeste's lower abdomen and closed his eyes. Silence reigned as Wigg gently moved his long fingers to and fro, as if searching for something. After a time he removed his hand, opened his eyes, and bade Celeste to sit back down.

Faegan leaned anxiously over the table and looked at Wigg. "Well?" he asked.

A sad look overcame the lead wizard's face. "I can't tell," he answered softly. "My attempts were blocked, exactly as the scroll said they would be."

Wasting no time, Faegan wheeled his chair over to where Celeste sat. Placing his hand upon her as Wigg had just done, he also closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his face registered an equal look of surprise.

"Do you now see?" Wigg asked him sadly. "Just as I told you. Inconclusive. And to my knowledge, this has never happened before."

"But how can that be?" Faegan whispered, half to himself.

Cleary frustrated, Wigg ran his hands down his face. "I have no idea," he answered slowly. "But the influence of Tristan's presence has clearly been at work here. Did you sense it? It was almost as if our powers were being overcome somehow. It seems that once again, as has also been true with so many of the questions concerning his azure blood, we can find no clear-cut answer."

Tristan looked quizzically at Celeste, then back to the wizards. "What in the name of the Afterlife are you two talking about?" he asked. "What were you doing to Celeste?"

"The two of you have done nothing wrong," Wigg said compassionately. "But you have been caught up in something not of your own making, and there are things that must be said. Things the two of you will find very difficult to hear. And they have to do with the scroll." Turning to Faegan, the lead wizard nodded. Faegan nodded back.

Wheeling his chair away from the table a bit, the old wizard raised his arms in the direction of the hovering scroll. Almost at once a short section of text in Old Eutracian lifted itself from the body of the scroll and came to hover over the center of the table. It glowed magnificently.

Looking over at Celeste, Tristan saw that she was reading the text. Then a sudden look of horror overcame her, and the blood ran from her face. She placed her hands over her eyes, as if looking at it had somehow become unbearable. Not knowing what else to do, Tristan put an arm around her.

"In the name of the Afterlife, will one of you please tell me what is going on here?" he shouted at the wizards. "Can't you see you're upsetting her?"

"Perhaps the best way is to read the passage for you, since you cannot do so for yourself," Faegan answered him softly. Turning his chair, he looked up at the glowing, hovering script and began to read aloud.

" 'And should the Chosen One make use of his gifts before he is trained to do so, the ordeal shall alter the nature of his blood, changing it from red to azure. But with this change shall come a price. For should his seed then mingle with that of any female, the child they might produce would be horrible beyond description, for the blood of the Jin'Sai shall be tainted. And no endowed female in the world, except for the twin of the Jin'Sai, shall carry a blood signature strong enough to keep such a child from possessing the left-leaning signature that shall without question emerge. Such shall always be the case, until the blood of the Jin'Sai can be returned to red. Thus, no seed of the Jin'Sai may be allowed to walk the world at any price, and no practice of the craft shall be able to determine whether the Jin'Sai's mate is with child. Only nature's way of revealing the answer shall be available to those who shall both worry, and wonder…' "

His mind stunned and drifting, Tristan slumped down into the chair. Finally, slowly, he looked over at the wizards. Their faces were very concerned.

"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" he breathed, scarcely able to get the words out. "We could have prevented this… That's why you were examining her, isn't it? You needed to see if she was carrying my child." He paused tentatively for a moment. "Is she-"

"We don't know," Wigg interrupted softly. "We only discovered this message in the scroll this morning, and then called for both of you straight away. It was the best we could do."

"But I thought the scrolls were only a compilation of Forestallment formulas," Tristan countered softly. "Do you mean to say that they speak of other things, as well?"

"Yes," Wigg answered. "The scrolls are much more than they appeared to be at first glance. Not only are they the repository of the Forestallment calculations, but they are informative, as well, much like the Tome of the Paragon."

"And you are unable to use your gifts to tell us if she is with child?" Tristan asked.

"That's right," Faegan answered. "It is just as the scroll said it would be. The only way we shall know is by the appearance of the traditional, natural signs. And that will take some time. I also regret to say that until Tristan's blood is somehow returned to normal, the two of you must refrain from physical intimacy. I'm sorry, but being of the craft sometimes also means making sacrifices. For now, that is how things must be."

Faegan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Aside from the impending arrival of Wulfgar, it now seems that our most pressing concern is the search to unravel the mystery surrounding Tristan's blood." Pausing for a moment, the brilliant wizard thought quietly.

"Who knew?" he asked. "Who knew that Tristan's answer to defeating the Coven of sorceresses-the only answer available to him, and achieved with such great self-sacrifice-would in turn somehow become the greatest, most dangerous riddle of the craft?"