The Magestone

13 Elsenar—his journal transcription continued by Mereth at Lormt (10th Day, Month of the Ice Dragon)

“As soon as I arrived at Lormt, I discovered that an ominous proposal was being debated among the Adepts of the Light already assembled there. Lormt’s site had been chosen for its strategic nearness to Escore, permitting a constant magical watch to be sustained in that direction. Since my previous visit, the citadel’s walls and living quarters had been erected by spells, and four great spheres of quan-iron had been seated at the bases of the corner towers. The Power inherent in that extraordinary substance provided the ultimate protection against any assault by the Dark. Unfortunately—from my point of view, which was shared by a few other Adepts—the sheer size and spatial relationship of the spheres tempted the majority of Adepts to conceive a dangerous plan. They recommended that such an immense Power focus be used to create a Master Gate, capable of opening into multiple destination sites. All of the Gates known to us from previous experience had linked our world with only a single destination. The party in favor of this Master Gate project argued that the immense threat from Escore’s Dark Adepts demanded that we seek additional sources of Power from other worlds to bolster our defenses and ultimately allow us to regain control of Escore for the Light.

I was not at all convinced that so unprecedented an effort could bring about the results they predicted. The complexity of the spells that would be required necessarily entailed enormous risks of unpredictable repercussions. I stated my reservations before our Council of Adepts, and suggested that we should instead seek closer sources of aid; we could call upon our brother Adepts of the Light in Arvon, across the sea to the west. I proposed that we open a postern to link Lormt to Arvon, but the others would not listen. Because of the success of their recent mountain-raising spells, many of the younger Adepts had become overly confident. They asserted that Arvon’s Adepts had little interest in matters relating to Escore. Complaining that it would take time to persuade those of Arvon of our desperate situation, they said such time and energy would be far better employed on their Master Gate effort.

When I saw that I could not sway the disputants to accept my plan, I withdrew from Lormt to a forester’s lodge in the nearby mountains. The simultaneous working of spells by so many Adepts at Lormt was creating continuous cross-currents of Power. I determined to act alone, using my jewel to open a postern to Arvon. I had framed my spell and actually begun my transit when the most awful catastrophe occurred.

The main body of Adepts, having descended to the very roots of the Lormt citadel, had invoked a Great Spell, mightier than any ever before attempted by Adepts of either the Light or the Dark. As they had expected, a multibranched Master Gate did briefly form at the quan-iron spheres’ Power focus, but the Adepts balancing the intricate layers of spells lost control of the structural flux. An unbelievable surge of Power blasted outward from Lormt, disrupting my comparatively feeble postern spell. I was literally snatched back to the forester’s lodge, where I lay for some hours, stunned in both body and mind. As soon as I had revived, I rode immediately to Lormt, where I learned the appalling extent of the disaster that had afflicted us.

There was no one left to testify to the events that had scoured the spell chamber, but apparently, when the Master Gate coalesced in the center of the chamber, it must have exerted an irresistible suction that pulled all of the spellworkers into its maw. The apprentices and retainers who had been stationed in the outer corridor told me that they had been blinded by a blaze of light and deafened by a thunderclap of sound. At that same instant, the Power surge erupted from the chamber, physically dashing them to the floor.

The only Adepts spared to us were those few elderly mages whose bodies had been thought too frail to dare the exertions involved with a Great Spell, and a few others who had shared my distrust of the project and had declined to assist. Even in their tower quarters remote from the spell chamber, they, too, had been rendered senseless by the discharge of Power loosed when the Master Gate vanished.

From a formidable force representing the Light, our company had been reduced to a devastated remnant. I gave what succor I could to the dazed survivors, and dared one magical effort in the spell chamber to establish contact with any of the missing Adepts. The very air in Lormt’s lower vault had been drained of all energy. I knew with cold certainty that the Master Gate was unreachable, and all those who had passed through it were lost to us forever.

Once all of us had recovered sufficiently to gather in the great hall, I conferred with the remaining Adepts and apprentices—a pitiful number compared with our former strength. They agreed with me that our only hope now lay in an appeal to Arvon’s Adepts of the Light, but feared that no one could be spared from our watch on Escore. With the residual Power of the quan-iron spheres to aid us, we could just barely preserve the same evident force level as before. That was vital, for we knew that Escore’s Dark Adepts would have registered the Power disturbance rippling outward from the Master Gate’s collapse. They would certainly soon emit questing probes to seek the cause of the disturbance, and to test our remaining strength. As the primary bastion of the Light, Lormt had to appear to be unchanged and impregnable.

Having already once constructed a postern to Arvon, I offered to re-establish that link and essay the mission to seek aid from our brothers to the west. After agonized discussion, the others bade me to make the attempt. Ordinarily, I would have allowed myself a day or more of rest and meditation before I again conjured such an extended postern. In view of our perilously decimated situation, however, I waited only long enough for a fresh mount to be brought before I set out for the forester’s lodge.”

[Mereth’s hand abruptly faltered. She snatched up a fragment of parchment, wrote on it, and handed it to Morfew, who hastily rounded the table to peer down at Elsenar’s journal.

Alarmed, Ouen asked, “What is amiss?”

“Mereth can no longer sense Elsenar’s message,” Morfew said, pulling the study lamp closer to illuminate the opened page. “Master Ouen,” Morfew exclaimed, “the hand composing this journal has altered. I can read this script! It appears to be an addition by an apprentice—a distraught apprentice, as well he might be. . . .”

“Morfew,” said Ouen in a decisive tone, “pray share your discovery with us before we become distraught.”

Morfew was instantly contrite. “Forgive me, dear friends. Could you fetch one more lamp? This scrawl is so ragged that some words are difficult to make out. Thank you. ‘Master Elsenar has not returned,’ ” Morfew read haltingly. “ ‘It has been . . . three days! Old Master Verdery was taken to the lodge to employ his scrying glass. He detected vestiges of a spell so shattered by intense Power flow that the postern to Arvon which Elsenar had anchored there could not be reestablished. We fear the worst—that a Dark Adept in Arvon must have intercepted Elsenar. We can ill bear the loss of one of our few remaining Master Adepts. May the Light defend us!’ ”]