after me, no one did anything, not my parents, or our priests or seers. They all
just looked at their feet, as if the key to my salvation was written in Azehur’s
sand. But it was not! And oh, did I learn from my wizard! More than he thought
to teach me, since he crumbled into dust on my account, and that is sure.”
Yet, she stopped the rods twirling, and she did not start to sing.
They stared a time longer at each other, and while they saw themselves in one
another, Cime began to cry, who had not wept in thrice a hundred years. And in
time she turned her rods about, and butts first, she touched them to the shards
of the obsidian he held in a trembling palm.
When the rods made contact, a blinding flare of blue commenced to shine in his
hand, and she heard him say, “I will make things right with us,” as the room in
which they stood began to fade away, and she heard a lapping sea and singing
children and finger cymbals tinkling while lutes were strummed and pipes began
to play.
7
All hell breaking loose could not have caused more pandemonium than Jihan’s
father’s blood-red orbs peering down through shredded clouds upon the
Mageguild’s grounds. The fury of the father of a jilted bride was met by
Vashanka in his full manifestation, so that folk thrown to the ground lay
silent, staring up at the battle in the sky with their fingers dug deep into
chilling, spongy earth.
Vashanka’s two feet were widespread, one upon his temple, due west, one upon the
Mage-guild’s wall. His lightning bolts rocked the heavens, his golden locks