“No,” Isaac said.“That’s not my point.The point is that Icould.Anyone could.A singleelemental mage, set loose upon a kingdom, could cause mass amountsof destruction.The same is true for enchantments, andhexes, and ancient artifacts, and any number of technologies currently underdevelopment.It needs to be regulated.Otherwise, you get The Scorch again.”
Zaria grunted.
“You’ve heard ofthat, I assume?”Isaac asked.
“Better than you,probably.”
“Well, in that case,I wouldn’t need to tell you it’s the reason the Diet of Nine exists at all.There are entire forests so overrun with enchantment that a single sneeze wouldturn you to stone.It formed glaciers.It fissured mountainsapart.There’s still wizards alive who fought in those wars, and theyhave every interest in not repeating the same mistakes.Hence, the Diet ofNine.The Assembly of Nine.The Meeting of Minds.And so on.It’s acollaboration between kingdoms, a supranational body of government.Frankly,it’s a miracle of diplomacy.”
Zaria nodded, as ifshe were thinking.Isaac hoped he’d gotten through to her.
“Still a bunchagreedy cunts,” she said.
He sighed.
“I mean,” Zariasaid, “Vekra’s tits, I’ve gone a good ways around the Nine, I’ve stolen someodd-looking baubles from magical sorts, and the most consequence I ever had waspayin’ hand to fist.They knew I had what ain’t mine.They didn’t care.Theyjust wanted their cut of the fat.”
“Well,” Isaac said.“The Diet is very large.It can’t control everyone.There will always be badactors.It doesn’t mean the alternative would be better.”
“You say that, butyou’re the one livin’ rich.”
“Well, yes.”
“And the mages arethe ones now in power, after they wreaked terror on the common folk.”
“I wouldn’tdescribe—”
“Funny how the oneswith power always end up gettin’ rich.Ain’t it?”
He did not answer.
The conversationtrickled away.A gust of wind sheared across the top of a dune, raining asprinkle of sand into Isaac’s messy hair.He shook his head, forcing himself toraise his eyes toward the sun, trying to squint through the glare.It wasgrowing close to midmorning, and, if his recollections of the map were stillaccurate, they must be getting very near to the entrance of the old necromancercapital.
He might be able tospot it now.
He wrinkled hisgaze, furrowing his brow, doing his best to ignore the stabbing aches that shotthrough his eye.He wanted, more than anything, to finally see the tomb.
The colossus.
He had journeyed forso long.He was tired.He was covered in scrapes and pain.He was sure that,once he spied the jutting skull, and the strangecontours of its crown, it would all feel like a worthwhile—
“There,” Zaria said.
He was startled.“What?”
“There you go,” she said.“Look at that.We were just talkin’ a while.”
Isaac twisted hiswrists beneath the rope, trying to take a breath.Whatever focus he had wasgone.
“Seems you and I canjaw together,” Zaria continued.“Wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes, well, I....”
He paused.A hiss offalling sand spread around them.
“Aye?”Zaria asked,curious.
“Nothing.Nevermind.”
