The Grove(43)

“What, the Convocation?” she asked, not catching on that he wanted to speak about the subject obliquely in public.

“Shh,” he said. “But yes.”

“Why should I want to stop it?” she asked, giving him a puzzled look. “Such a thing should be celebrated, encouraged, and assisted back into being.”

(Promising . . . Go on,) Teral nudged him.

“Well, your king wishes it to be done by his own people, rather than outlanders,” he confessed.

Frowning softly at that, Saleria considered his words. She considered them all the way into the Keeper’s house, and beyond. Only when she had shut the Grove door did she respond, by asking a question. “Who has the better chance of pulling it off the soonest? Katan, or this other land?”

“Nightfall. Technically, it is a part of Katan that has rebelled and broken away from your Empire, and they are determined to prove their independence by hosting the Convocation, with all the Gods and Goddesses of the world as their Patrons,” Aradin told her, and braced himself for her reaction.

“You sound very confident about that,” Saleria stated. Her tone was merely thoughtful.

“They have the cooperation of the Witches in gathering the Names of all the Gods and Goddesses.”

Folding her arms, Saleria studied him thoughtfully. She did have the gossip Councillor Thannig had given her, but she wasn’t going to blindly trust Aradin . . . or Teral . . . on what the dual Witch knew. “How do you know all this? As far as I know, the only Nightfall I’ve heard of is a small island on the eastern side of the continent—a continent which is the entire Empire of Katan—and if it is some other Nightfall, then it would be much farther away. So. How can you know all this? How do you know they’re trying to resurrect the Convocation?”

(That’s not so promising,) Teral observed, (but go on.)

Aradin suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at his Guide. Teral wasn’t the person standing in front of him, after all. “One of our fellow Witches ended up in the city of Menomon, which lies well outside the bounds of your empire. While there, they heard of a request for the Scroll of Living Glory by the people of Nightfall, which contains details on how to re-invoke the Convocation of the Gods. They—the Witch pairing—asked questions of the Dark, and determined that the people of Nightfall, which is indeed the former Katani island in question, have the best chance at succeeding. Not the only chance, but the best, as circumstances currently stand.

“The people on Nightfall do seem to be in a state of rebellion against your empire,” he continued. “I don’t know all the details, but it seems they have Rung the Bell in proper ritual form to make themselves a new, independent kingdom, have been answered with a holy crown . . . and apparently intend to manifest all the Gods and Goddesses as their official Patron Deities.”

She knew about a city of Menomon, though thanks to Guardian Sheren’s misfortunes a little while ago, the Fountainways between there and here had been closed while the older mage recovered. Aradin’s words only confirmed what Saleria knew. What little she knew, technically, since until now her world had revolved predominantly around the Grove, the village, and all the petitions received. But now we have a piece of Katan breaking away and trying to restart the Convocation. “How ambitious of them.”

Aradin shrugged and clasped his hands lightly together. “There is enough ambiguity in the Dark’s reply to put the end result in some small shadow of doubt, but less so than for any other nation about which we have queried. At the moment, they have the best chance . . . if perhaps not the only chance. So. What is your opinion of that?”

Saleria knew what he was really trying to ask. He wanted to know if she would try to sabotage their efforts—an absurdity from this far away—or try to wrest control, or stop it from happening, or whatever. She didn’t care for any of those things, however. “I guess I’d say good luck to them, and may Kata and Jinga bless their attempt.”

He frowned, taken aback by her light reply. “You honestly don’t object?”

“It occurred to me, as we were walking through the house just now, that if my king wanted to do it, he’d probably want to invoke the Convocation here.” Spreading her hands, she indicated the carefully spell-warded patch of flagstones that kept the Grove-warped plants away from the entrance to her home. “This is the holiest spot in all of Katan, and it is utterly unsuited for a meeting of Gods and Mankind. Even if you can wrest a miracle antidote from your dripping magic-sap experiments and somehow leech the excess spell-saps from the soil of the Grove, it will still take far too much time. Years’ worth of time.