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The Grove(56)

By:Jean Johnson


“. . . And in the final, far right row, we have Tuassan of Amaz, Shon Tastra of Darkhana, Sir Vedell of Arbra, and Callaia, newly appointed Guardian of Freedom’s Thought,” Kerric finished.

Saleria nodded at Tuassan; his skin was a rich dark brown, the hue of someone who lived close to the Sun’s Belt, much as those who lived in the far north of Katan could boast. She knew Amaz was a kingdom along the southern coast of Aiar, just to the north of the Belt. Tuassan was one of the four she had worked with before, and it was good to actually see his face for once.

Shon Tastra of Darkhana . . . she belatedly realized was a Darkhanan Witch. He also looked older than Teral, with greenish eyes, long, light brown hair streaked heavily with gray, narrower shoulders, and the same ubiquitous black-lined, sleeve-bearing cloak that Aradin Teral wore, visible when he lifted a hand in greeting. The outer layer of his robe, however, was a shade of blue just a little bit darker than the masking background the mirrors provided. When he held himself still, only his head, throat, and a stripe of dark green tunic down the middle of his chest could be easily seen.

Sir Vedell was also older than average, with a gray-streaked beard, short-cropped brown hair, fair skin, and brown eyes. A scar marred one cheek, but otherwise he looked like any confident man just past his prime. Callaia, the last of the women and the last Guardian to be introduced, looked rather young. She also looked rather sober; either that, or possibly annoyed by this meeting.

Her viewing lenses were grayish and small, unlike Koro’s or Alonnen’s; the wire frame perched on the end of her nose, allowing her blue gray eyes to look out over their tops. Of all of them, her hair was the curliest, framing her face in thick ringlets. For a brief moment, Saleria wished she had hair that luxuriously curly, instead of merely wavy. But then it’s probably a pain to comb out and keep tangle-free . . .

Having given everyone a chance to examine their counterparts, Kerric cleared his throat and resumed speaking. “Unfortunately, while there are a lot of you attending this call, you are the only Guardians I could get to cooperate with this endeavor. Nor are all of you going to be affected directly by what the problem is, unless circumstances keep changing randomly . . . which they have been, so there are no guarantees. But the more minds we bend to this problem, the greater the hope is that some of us will have clues to what is going on, and that all of us will be able to think of a solution.”

“What is the problem, Guardian Kerric?” the last woman to be introduced, the curly-haired blonde named Callaia, asked him tersely, almost tartly. “Forgive my impatience, but it is early morning here, and I have much to do today.”

“I may know something of what is wrong already, but it is sunset here, and I would like to retire for the night at a reasonable hour,” Saleria added. “Can you summarize it for the others?”

Kerric quickly lifted both hands, cutting off the further comments that started to emerge from the scryings of the men and women in their little mirrors-within-a-mirror windows. “Please, milords, miladies, fellow Guardians. I will explain if you’ll let me. As you may know, one of my specialties is mirror-based magics. A few years back, with the blessings of several pertinent Patron Deities from around Aiar, or at least their clergy, I was able to craft a special mirror that could peer one year into the future . . . and just a few months ago, I saw the mighty Empire of Fortuna being overrun by what looked like a massive demonic army from a Netherhell.”

Shocked silence reigned for a moment, then several of the others started to raise their voices in protests, questions, and denials. Saleria kept silent, but only because the news wasn’t a shock to her. Nor was it to the dark-haired Dominor of Nightfall, whose blue eyes had narrowed in a thoughtful frown. Guardians Marton and Suela looked and sounded the most offended, asserting firmly and loudly that such a thing could never happen in their homeland. Guardian Kerric raised his hands again.

“Please! Some of you already know of this, and the mirror has been tested for the accuracy of its foreseeings. If things do not change, then these invasions will happen . . . but that is the key, isn’t it? Things can and may change . . . which means for the worse, or for the better. The first image happened shortly after the disaster with Guardian Sheren’s Fountain, which has since been shut down for the interim, which is why she hasn’t been included in this conference. Hopefully, she will finish recovering and get her Fountain reconnected to the rest of us so that she can join these discussions, but as Menomon is one of the few places I have not seen under attack, same as with Althinac and a few other rare places, we can use those lands as a . . . a controlled test subject, where we know nothing they do out of the normal will alter anything in the years ahead.