He scowled at her. “Do not waste my time, witch.”
“Watch, great one.” She bent her head, parted her red lips, and whispered a Feraz witchword. A shadow flickered in the heart of the pearly stone, like a larva wriggling in its egg. Beneath the outer layers of stone, a rune began to gleam with a brightening glow.
Vadim’s brows drew together. He recognized the rune and knew its meaning only because of his dealings with long-forgotten Feraz witchcraft.
“Gamorraz?” The rune was beyond ancient, hailing from a forbidden form of witchtongue used in the blackest days of the craft, millennia ago. Gamorraz was a very powerful demon, the father of the four Guardians of the Well of Souls.
“Zim,” Zebah breathed. “An ancient and powerful name to summon an ancient and powerful magic.”
“And the purpose of this stone?”
Zebah smiled. “To open gateways, Chazah. To the Well of Souls.”
He snatched the stone up off the desk and tossed it back to her.She caught it with one swift snap of her wrist. “This is your Fezai’s great new triumph? Theselkahrcrystals already do as much.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You dismiss so quickly a gift whose greatness you do not begin to fathom, Chazah.Zim, the stones—which we callchemar—do what yourselkahrdoes, but only in their purpose arechemarandselkahrsimilar.” Zebah opened her fist and rolled the stone between her fingers. “Selkahris very precious, we know. How much do you have to spare for such uses as gateways and portals?”
Vadim’s spine stiffened at the directness of her probe. “Enough,” he answered guardedly.Selkahrwas made from Tairen’s Eye crystals, and those had been in exceedingly short supply of late.
She laughed, a throaty sound. “But it is not so easy to come by.” She leaned forward, her breasts pressing together invitingly, her sloe eyes fixed on his face. “Chemar, great one, are made from the bones of those sacrificed to Gamorraz. The stones can be manufactured at will and in great quantities. But best of all, as you have seen for yourself, thechemarhave no magical properties until they are activated by the proper witchword. Fey wards will not detect it. No sacrifice is needed to make the stones work. You can placechemaranywhere you desire a portal and open the gates at will—and without using Azrahn. You can insert your armies, without warning, anywhere you so desire. The stones are consumed when you use them, but all you need do is simply drop another when you wish to open a gate again.”
The High Mage leaned back in his chair. “Very well. You have piqued my interest.” He gestured to the bag dangling from Zebah’s wrist. “How many of thosechemardid you bring with you?”
The witch hefted her black pouch. “Fezai Madia sends four dozen as a gesture of her goodwill.”
Vadim rose to his feet, the hem of his purple Mage robes swirling about his ankles. “You will give me a demonstration of their effectiveness. Then I will decide how useful they may, in fact, be.”
Zebah bowed low, but the slow, confident smile on her facewhen she straightened belied any implication of subservience. “As you will. It is my pleasure to serve, great one.”
“What price does the Fezai have in mind for more of thesechemar?”
The Fezaiina’s smile widened, showing the pointed edges of her small, white teeth. “One of your strongest males for every four dozen stones.”
Vadim’s glance sharpened. “That is a steep price.”
“Perhaps.” Zebah lifted her dark, arching brows. “But consider this, Chazah: Your males will be returned to you when the Fezai is through with them.” She shook the bag ofchemarstones and laughed. “Or, at least, what is left of them.”
Three bells later, the Fezaiina took her leave, stepping into the open maw of the Well of Souls. Four muscular,sel’dor-shackled men followed her, tame as sheep, their eyes downcast, their faces blank with the dazed effects of the Feraz witch’s enchantment.
Vadim Maur watched them go with a twinge of regret. The four had been promising men from strong bloodlines, full of latent magic. But Fezai Madia would not have been pleased if he’d sent her less than quality in payment for her latest discovery... and the woman had an evil temper.
The hand holding thechemarpouch began to shake again. He bent a hard gaze upon it, trying to will the trembling muscles into obedience. Instead, the tremors grew more pronounced and shot up the entire length of his arm. The velvet bag filled withchemardropped from nerveless fingers.
“Master Maur.” A nearby guard started towards him until a snarled command from the High Mage sent him reeling back in fear.
Vadim bent to snatch thechemarpouch from the ground and stuffed it in the pocket of his robes. His trembling hand he stuffed in the other pocket. His gaze swept the room, noting which men had witnessed his moment of weakness. Unfortunately for them,all four belonged to Primages who had apprenticed to a Mage other than Vadim Maur. He did not have access to their souls the way he did to theumagiof his own apprentices.
“You four. Come here.”
Nervously, they came. What choice did they have, really?
“Kneel.”
Two of them swallowed and hesitated. “Master Maur?”
The fearful defiance annoyed him. “Do as I say.”
Gulping, the four men knelt. “Mast—” The guard’s voice broke off in a gurgle as Vadim’s Mage blade swept out in one clean slice across three of the four men’s necks. The fourth man gave a cry and jerked back just in time to miss the first death strike. He didn’t miss the second.
