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“Tuura,” Kella said, “you know I have complete faith in you, but it’s my duty to ask. Do you have any reason to believe the Silence is compromising your spells?”
“A fair question, First Blade,” Tuura replied with a nod, “but adjusting my spells for this hemisphere doesn’t weaken my magic.”
“It weakens her.” Karege put his hands on his hips. “The extra effort her spells take is affecting her health.”
“No need to fuss over me, Noon Watch. I don’t deny it’s tiring, but even so, the Collector should not have been able to sneak in here under my nose. That said, it’s best if none of us become overconfident in our abilities where this foe is concerned.”
“We should preserve your energy,” Kella said. “Will it drain you too much to examine the glove?”
“No, this is an important use of power.” Tuura reached into her medicine bag and pulled out a pouch. She sprinkled powder from inside it onto the floor, filling the chamber with the woody and sharp scents of Imperial herbs. Taking her staff in both hands, she used the end of it to spread the powder in a protective circle on the ground.
She set the warded bag inside the ring and raised her staff. An invisible wind seemed to ruffle her wrap dress. She swayed on her feet, murmuring. Whispers swept around the circle.
Cassia gasped, and Lio shared her awe. It seemed that through Tuura, an echo of the ancestors could be heard.
Solia, Eudias, and Ariadne gathered around the casting. They watched the powder float up, shedding light and magic as it swirled around the glove.
Tuura slammed her staff onto the ground once, twice, three times. The presence of death in the room fled, chased away by the whispers of her spell.
The powder dissipated into nothing, and Tuura leaned heavily on Karege’s arm. “I’ve removed the danger.”
Mak knelt and took the gauntlet from the bag to hand it to her.
She gestured to the Eye of Hypnos without touching the palm of the glove. “This glyph is more than theatrics, I’m afraid. This blood was drawn here during a magical ritual. A sacrifice.”
Mak grimaced. “Gift Collectors often make human sacrifices during their spell casting.”
“I’ve seen them do it.” Cassia shuddered.
Tuura shook her head. “The ritual that gave this artifact its power didn’t cost a person their life. It cost them their magic. And if that is what this Gift Collector can do to mages, imagine how he can manipulate the life force of those without power of their own.”
Cassia rubbed her throat, her anxiety spiking in their Union. Lio slipped his hand behind her neck and sent a trickle of thelemancy into her. She relaxed slightly.
“We cannot let him do that to anyone else,” Ariadne said.
She looked at them all with red, swollen eyes, Eudias’s arm around her shoulders. Lio longed to ask for forgiveness. But it was selfish to ask her to absolve him to ease his own guilt. She needed time to grieve.
He had told her how sorry he was, but he must show her. “We will cast a thelemantic ward on Lord Hadrian’s camp as soon as he gives us the all clear. How else can we help you?”
The petite, seventeen-year-old mage in her delicate veil drew herself up with authority worthy of a Prisma. “I want you to cast wards here at Patria as well. Eudias and I will deal with Master Gorgos and the Semna. Once they agree, Lord Flavian will have no choice but to accept.”
“We would be very grateful to you.” If she still trusted Lio to take part in warding Patria, perhaps there was hope she could forgive him. “Would you consider leaving Pakhne in the care of the Hesperine healers?”
“She must stay with you,” Ariadne said firmly. “No one else understands what the Collector has done to her.”
“Will the Semna agree?” Lio asked.
“Leave that to me,” Ariadne replied. “We will tell everyone else that she exhausted her magic to save the life of Perita and her child. She’s in seclusion with Kyrian elders who are praying for the Mother Goddess to restore her.”
“And Pakhne’s family?” Lio asked, his heart heavy. “They deserve to know she may not survive. I feel honor bound to break the news to them, but fear that hearing it from a Hesperine would only add to their pain.”
“I think it best if the Semna and I speak to them,” Ariadne said. “Her father, Free Lord Galanthian, is here for the Full Council, along with her mother. We’ll tell them in the morning.”
“Where is her sister, Lady Nivalis?” Cassia asked.
A furrow appeared between Ariadne’s eyes. “We are rather surprised that she and her husband, Free Lord Deverran, have yet to arrive. He must be coming later for the vote, like Lord Hadrian.”
“I’m sure that’s the case,” Cassia said smoothly.
