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Marsden held out his arm. “It’s a silver circle, for o
bvious reasons. It’s used to link part of our power into a common fund to support such things as require a universal effort.”
“Such as Artemis’ spell,” Pritkin explained.
“Okay, following you so far.”
“The drain is supposed to be fixed at two percent of our magic—and no more. But Saunders quietly upped the percentage seven months ago—by almost half a point—and has been quietly selling the remainder.”
“And that’s illegal?”
“Highly! Not even the Council could approve such a thing. It would require the agreement of a majority of Circle members. And for that, he would need a better reason than lining his own pockets!”
“An extra half percent doesn’t sound like enough to take that kind of a risk,” I protested.
Marsden raised a bushy white eyebrow. It looked like a caterpillar crawling across his forehead. “Of one war mage’s power, perhaps not. But of a quarter million?”
“A quarter million?”
“That is the approximate number of war mages currently in service.”
I sat back in my chair. “Okay. That’s a lot of power.” I’d never realized exactly how strong the Circle was.
“That percentage could mean the difference between life and death for a mage in the field,” Pritkin said.
“It’s worst than that,” Marsden told him. “Saunders’ profitable sideline has warped his entire policy. He should have confirmed this child weeks ago. Instead he’s had the Circle hunting her down when they should be fighting a war because he’s afraid of what she knows or will soon discover through her clairvoyance.”
“But what about Agnes’ clairvoyance?” I asked. “She was still Pythia when he started this!”
“She was also frail and ill and preoccupied trying to locate her missing heir. The entire Pythian Court was bent on nothing else, leaving him a window of opportunity—which he seized.”
“And wants to retain,” Pritkin guessed.
“Yes. Having a Pythia over whom he exerts no influence come to power would not only mean the end of his profitable venture, but also very likely his exposure.”
“That would explain why he hasn’t wanted to meet,” I said, feeling sick.
“A reasonable precaution. A clairvoyant is much more likely to see the truth when confronted with it face-to-face.”
“What are you planning to do?” Pritkin asked grimly.
“To challenge him, of course.”
“Jonas—”
“It’s the only possible way, John. I could go public with my evidence, but Saunders controls the papers and has a stranglehold on the Council. The story would be hushed up and I would be silenced, either frozen in lockup like poor Peter or more permanently, given last night’s example.”
I looked back and forth between the two of them. “What’s a challenge?”
“It’s an old law but never rescinded. If a member of the ruling Council believes the Lord Protector is corrupt or dangerously incompetent, he can challenge him. And the fact that I lost the last election does not negate my appointment to the Council. I still have a month left on my last term, and I intend to use it!”
“I don’t get it,” I said as he set a pot of tea by my elbow. “Challenge him how?”
“To a duel,” Pritkin said tightly.
Marsden nodded. “If he loses, the Circle will be without a leader, and the law says that in that case the most senior Council member will rule until such a time as an election can be held. And that would be me.”
“Assuming you win,” Pritkin pointed out.
