The Eighth Warden Bk. 04 Ch. 29-30

"Five?" Pallisur said. "You mean Shayliel? What did you tell her?"

The yanvasta were an odd people to begin with, and Shayliel had, on occasion, wielded powers that even Pallisur didn't understand. That made her a problem, and a perfect example of why magic needed to be more tightly controlled.

"I don't remember. I think... yes, that was it. Leonis wanted to find more wardens for the ritual. Shayliel was here so I asked her, but she refused to help."

"You tried to recruit Shayliel? She's dangerous, Badru!"

The other man shrank back. "I thought it was what you wanted."

Including more wardens would improve their chances of success, but Shayliel would never have been among Pallisur's choices. And he certainly wouldn't have asked Badru to be the one to deliver the message.

"What did you say to her?" Pallisur demanded. If Shayliel knew the truth, she could warn the other wardens.

"I just told her what Leonis told me," the First said. "About the ritual controlling access to the sources of magic."

Pallisur clenched his fists, keeping a tight rein on his temper. Inside, he was seething, but it was his own fault, not Badru's. He should have told the other man more, and not depended so much on Leonis.

"I thought you needed her," Badru continued, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. His mood swings had grown worse since the last time the two had spoken. The old Badru would have met Pallisur's anger with his own.

"It's all right, my friend," Pallisur said. "You did just fine." No wonder Shayliel had refused to help. Hopefully she'd viewed it as nothing more than the ravings of a madman. Could she have had something to do with Badru's inability to reach the dream?

"I did?"

"Yes, of course--I was just startled by the news. But if you see her again, don't mention it. Pretend you've forgotten all about it. And as for the dream, I could try healing you again..." Or perhaps he shouldn't. If the First regained full control of his faculties, he might realize the problems with Pallisur's story.

Badru raised an eyebrow. "I'm a better healer than you," the man said, his old confidence back. "If I can't heal myself, there's nothing to be healed. Like I said, it's just old age."

Pallisur nodded. He was taking advantage of a man who wasn't in complete control of his own mind--a man he considered a friend--but there was no other way. Leonis's loss had been a setback, and the newer wardens were too unpredictable to approach. Rusol had been the only possibility among them, but Herasis had had too tight a grip on him at first, and now he'd been claimed by some unknown player. That left few options.

"You're right, I'm sure," Pallisur said. "Still, if you ever need something, let me know. But for now, I could use some real clothes. And a sword."

#

Wolf stared at the image scratched into the dirt, a sense of foreboding settling over him.

Three parallel lines close together. A fourth line, diagonal to the others, intersecting with the middle of the three, but just barely missing the lower line and not extending far enough to reach the upper. Well above that group was a fifth line that was nearly parallel. It, too, was pierced by a diagonal line. A seventh line floated between the two groups, not attached to anything. And, most worrisome of all, a perpendicular line to the right of the diagram--not yet touching the others, but too close for comfort.

Eight lines carved into the soft earth.

The Collision.

Have you gone mad? he asked Fox. The last time they discovered it they nearly destroyed it, without ever bothering to understand what it was. And now you want to give them a map? They could unravel existence itself! He'd finally tracked down his younger brother only to discover Fox was planning something insanely reckless, even for him.

Mortals had interfered with the Collision twice before. The first time had been accidental, when they'd originally created the wardens. Whatever their intentions had been, the ritual spell had been beyond the limits of what could be done with the magics they wielded. They'd unknowingly drawn the power for it from the Collision, forever linking the wardens to the conjunction and causing the choosing spell to remain in effect in perpetuity.

The second time, the wardens themselves--having some small insight into the existence of the Collision, but without realizing what it was--had tried to steal its power. Even though the attempt had failed, the results had been devastating, unleashing wildstorms across the world, particularly on the continent of Donvar and in the three regions from which the wardens had cast the spell--Van Kir, the Storm Heights, and an island west of Donvar.

Ironically, the only reason further destruction had been averted was the fact that each living warden reinforced the integrity of the Collision--an unintended consequence of the original warden spell. Before they could complete the ritual and eliminate that protection, part of Tir Yadar had collapsed, killing six of the eight wardens immediately. By then, though, they'd already begun their ascension. Their minds--or spirits--had survived, and soon Boreas and Iris, unconscious from the backlash, had followed the others into their new existence.

Allowing mortals to once again learn of the Collision was far too great of a risk.

Fox tilted his head to the side. We have to stop him.

There must be another way, Wolf said.

There is, but are you prepared to face Snake yourself?

Wolf hesitated. Fighting one of his brothers would violate everything he was. He had no idea how Snake had managed it.

I can't, he said finally.

I've looked and I've looked, Fox said. Perhaps we could kill him if we all band together, but it would destroy us.

If we can't fight him, then what do you expect her to do? Wolf asked.

Snake evades my view; he clouds my visions of the futures. I've only seen hints. I need your help, Discovery.

---

To be continued...