much, and with that many spell casters …’ He left the thought unfinished.
Miranda said, ‘The King’s men are often stupid, but rarely are they suicidal.’
Pug had learned some bitter lessons from the Academy. He had eventually bequeathed daily control of Stardock to those who lived there, angering the Kingdom of the Isles who had considered the island in the middle of the Great Star Lake to be one of their minor holdings, though its elevation to the status of Duchy simply served their own political ends.
To the south, the Empire of Great Kesh had sought to ensure their interests were served by persuading many young practitioners of magic to seek refuge at Stardock, while retaining their loyalty to the Empire. The two brothers, Watoom and Korsh, had almost succeeded in convincing the majority of students that Kesh’s claim to the island was legitimate. Only Nakor’s time at the Academy, and his formation of a third faction, which he had mirthfully called the Blue Riders to honour the gift of a beautiful horse and blue cloak from the Empress herself, restored a precarious balance and stopped the brothers, who Pug was now convinced long after their deaths had been Imperial agents.
He had visited the Academy occasionally, always with two aims in mind; first he wished everyone there to remember he still held official title to the island, even though he had renounced his claim to Kingdom nobility. Secondly, he wished to maintain contact with a handful of Conclave agents and keep an eye on whatever nonsense the ruling triumvirate – the current leaders of the three factions – were up to.
The ‘Hands of Korsh’ were the most conservative group, but they were as opposed to becoming a province of the Empire as they were of joining the Kingdom. But they also perceived all non-magic users, and anyone outside their faction as possible enemies.
‘The Wand of Watoom’ were more moderate in their policies towards general outsiders, but decidedly pro-Keshian in their world-view.
The Blue Riders continued to delight Pug, for their leadership always seemed to reflect Nakor’s slightly mad and manic views on magic. Many of them had adopted his notion that there really wasn’t any magic, but only some mystical “stuff” that could be manipulated by anyone once they managed to achieve a certain level of familiarity with it.
They were the group almost entirely responsible for recruiting new students, while the more conservative factions waited until someone who met their more rigid standards of acceptance arrived at Stardock. Pug was always grateful for their closed-mindedness, for it allowed the Blue Riders more opportunity to keep the island’s population in balance.
Caleb said, ‘If Father’s spending more time there, something is undoubtedly wrong. Either he’s alerting our agents to be on the watch for something, or they’ve told him that something’s already happening.’
Magnus said, ‘No, he would have said something to one or all of us.’ He glanced out of the window, as the breeze rustled the leaves of the old trees sheltering the building from the afternoon heat. ‘No, it’s something else.’
The mother and her two sons were silent as they pondered what could be disturbing Pug so deeply that despite his attempts to disguise his distress, they all could see it. Miranda finally stood and said, ‘Well, we can be certain of one thing: when your father judges it time to share his worries, he will be totally forthright, and whatever he’s worried about will be a very big problem.’
She left the room and the brothers exchanged nods, for they knew she was probably making an understatement. Whatever worried their father was likely to be more approaching disaster than problem.
Pug dismissed his class and gathered up the few items he had used to demonstrate the lessons of the day. He knew his family had been observing them for a while, and was nearly certain of the reason. He had attempted to conceal some grave concerns from them, but had obviously failed. Still, today he was reluctant to assume things worse than he already knew them to be; today he would finally come to grips with the cause of his worries: a summons from the Oracle of Aal.
But it was more than the missive, it was also the way in which it had arrived; one moment Pug had been alone in his study, writing notes late into the night, and the next a figure in a white robe had appeared at his side. As soon as he saw the man, he had recognized him as one of the consorts or companions of the Oracle. Conventional human concepts were only an approximation. For the Aal, gender was a function of legacy, their bodies were human, so their physical makeup was familiar, yet their spirits and minds were alien. Pug had felt cautious at first, for the Oracle had taken the dying body of a great dragon, her golden scales fused with a riot of gemstones welded by furious magic unleashed in the heat of battle, as the dragon and its rider, Tomas, heir to the power of the Valheru, had confronted the most dangerous of creatures: a Dread Lord.
That battle had been fought over a century before, yet for Pug it might as well have been yesterday. He could still conjure vivid memories of the chaos that had surrounded him, of Macros the Black, and the two Tsurani magicians who had joined him in trying to stem the return of the assembled host of the Valheru, the Dragon Lords, to Midkemia.
That battle beneath the long-abandoned city of Sethanon had been but the first of many encounters with agents of the Nameless One, Nalar, God of Evil; the agent behind the Chaos Wars and the subsequent battles waged by Pug and his allies.
He paused to gather his thoughts. The strangest thing about the summons wasn’t its personal delivery, but that he hadn’t been asked to come at once. He had been summoned to appear before the Oracle upon a date nearly a month away. And now the day was upon him.
Pug considered letting Miranda know what was occurring, but for some reason he felt it best to hear the Oracle first, then deal with his wife’s moods. She would certainly wish to come with him, but neither her name, nor Magnus’s had been mentioned.
Besides, his previous encounters with the Oracle had tended to be short, the longest lasting barely half an hour. He would be back before the evening meal.
For ten years he had been practising the art of transporting himself without the use of the Tsurani orbs. They were becoming increasingly rare as the years passed since the destruction of Kelewan. A few artificers from Kelewan had immigrated to LaMut, but most who survived the destruction of their home planet now lived on New Kelewan.
Though he would never admit it, Pug hated the fact that his wife was able to transport herself effortlessly to places she barely knew, while he had to muster all of his concentration.
Still, the chamber of the Oracle was unique and he had been there many times over the years. It should present him little difficulty to move there now. And now was the time to go.
Pug closed his eyes and willed himself to the chamber; as he appeared, he heard the voice of the Oracle within his mind.
Welcome, sorcerer. Your timing is perfect.
As Pug turned to regard the majesty of the gem-encrusted great golden dragon, a screech loud enough to make her companions cover their ears tore through the room.
Something appeared between Pug and the Oracle, a shadowy form at first, which rapidly resolved into a figure. A demon, at least twenty feet in height, stood motionless for an instant, disoriented by the magic that had brought it to this place. But its confusion lasted but a moment. It quickly surveyed the room, judging the little figures around it as scant risk, then it turned its attention to the Oracle.
With a bellow that echoed in the vast chamber, the demon launched itself at the great golden dragon.
PUG UNLEASHED A SPELL.
As the demon took a step towards the Oracle’s dragon form, a searing hot band of energy lashed out at it, wrapping around the demon’s torso like a lasso. Evil-smelling black smoke erupted where it