Instead of a knock to signify Kell’s arrival, at noon the door flew open. Alize had her dagger in hand before she recognized Onder, flustered in his billowing robes. She lowered the blade as Kell and Davram both followed him with harried expressions.

“What happened?” Davram demanded as the door closed.

“Alize, dear, how are you?” Onder asked her, ignoring Davram’s question. Several leaves clung to the bottom of his robes and rustled against the carpet.

“I’m fine.”

“You found us?”

“Not exactly,” Alize responded recalcitrantly, “they didn‘t tell you?”

“The important thing is that she’s here now,” Davram declared definitively before directing his gaze to Onder. “Now what happened?”

“I don’t have good news,” Onder said as Davram helped him shrug off his bag. “Both the fallen Conjurers were Magi.”

Alize balked. She lowered herself to her own bed. Her leg was shaking from moving too quickly.

“What?” Davram thundered, “That goes against everything-”

“I know,” Onder interrupted grimly. “They had been attacked with the gray magic – it was none of theirs – and something, some spell, kept the rest of us from seeing the attack. Which of course prevents the Magi’s retaliation. And, like we saw in Alize, the bearers of gray magic can be controlled from afar, explaining why a Magi would act against our own creed.”

“Nocture,” Kell swore. He stood leaning against the door.

“I rode to Camacas and spoke with the High Magi. We must mount a response, but we do not yet know the aggressor or the reason.” Onder pulled off his cape and sank into the seat facing Alize.

“Power?” Davram offered. He took his seat beside Alize.

“Undoubtedly, but why? The High Magi believe it has something to do with the earthquakes. I showed them the magics we took from Alize. We separated them and discovered two things.” Onder reached into his bag and removed two vials, one shining gray, and the other white. “First, the gray magic belongs to an infamous Conjurer. I wish I didn’t have to speak his name.”

Everyone waited.

“Arouah.”

Davram hissed quietly and Kell performed a sign in front of his face. Alize rested her chin in her palms. The name held no significance.

“I thought he was dead.” Kell said.

“We all thought he was dead.” Onder responded.

“Who is he?” Alize asked.

Onder gaped at her “You haven’t heard of Arouah?”

“No,” Alize bit back a swell of annoyance. It was not directed at Onder. “The name sounds Miringian, though.”

Onder swallowed. “Well, yes. It means the Whisperer. He was a Conjurer who fell into great darkness, almost two decades ago. Travelers began noticing caravans in the east, stalled, with their horses gone, and only bodies in the wagons. Others found whole families drowned in wells. Soldiers dead on their own swords. Such was the fate of Arouah’s hosts. It was never his violence that killed them; his whispers drove them to kill themselves.”

“But he’s dead.” Kell reiterated, “He was killed.”

Stolen novel; please report.

“I certainly thought so,” Onder replied grimly. He placed his cap on the bed beside him and sighed. “Alize, a young Sargon from the Dsarte province killed Arouah and the magic with him.”

“Sargon Omurtak is a revered hero, Alize, for what he did.” Kell explained.

Alize nodded. She had heard Omurtak’s name on the lips of Sargons, but she had never known his story. “What happened to Omurtak? He died?

“Why should he have died, Alize?” Onder asked.

“Only the dead become legends.”

Kell frowned. “I always assumed that Omurtak returned to the Dsarte Kingdom and continued to serve as a Sargon.”

Davram nodded in agreement.

“That doesn’t seem strange to you?” Alize asked. “That people would idolize a man who still lives, and pray to him as though he were a god?”

“Anyway, that’s not the point.” Onder said quickly. “Listen, the gray magic – both gray magics that we took from you – are part of a whole, and they belong to Arouah. Divided magic! Not only is he alive, but he has something to do with the people pursuing you.”

“And it’s definitely his magic?”

“The High Magi said they are as certain as the sun follows the dawn. There is a unique filth to that magic.”

The three men fell silent until Alize prodded softly, “You said you discovered two things.”

“Oh!” Onder looked almost startled and held up the white vial. “Tell me, Alize, have you ever heard of echoes?”

Alize tilted her head, “Echo, echo echo echo?”

Kell grinned but Onder’s intensity did not abate. “Echo magic, rather.”

“Then, no.”

“It’s a bit of a mystery to the Magi. Everyone is born with white echo magic and it belongs to them until they die. But,” Onder continued, “the echoes rarely remain with the bearer – they are transferred to people the bearer trusts, as a way of stabilizing power within communities. Among the Magi, we bow,” Onder dipped his head in demonstration, “to transfer them.”

Alize frowned. Like the ceremonial sign of subordination.

“A single person’s echo is like a very tiny light, usually imperceptible except in absolute darkness. Easy to overlook, you see. Actually, I first heard of this magic, oh, thirty years ago, when someone in the Magi community began researching it. Something about summoning the echoes, if I remember correctly.”

“But,” Alize interrupted, “what does the magic do?”

Onder folded his cape in his arms. “It’s never been entirely clear. The Magi suspect its power is rather modest: fending off illness and speeding recovery from injuries.”

“So the men that attacked us were all healthy leaders of a community?” Kell asked. He sounded unconvinced.

“Actually, it appears that the gray magic – Arouah’s magic – is binding the echo magic, allowing him to divide it amongst the bearers he’s brought under his sway.” Onder widened as he began to talk faster. “The echo magic has been corrupted. Sometime after Arouah’s demise, or rather, his supposed demise, the echoes ceased returning to their original bearers for redistribution. Which of course defeats the whole purpose. Echoes represent the choices of the original bearer. But they’ve become independent, moving on in the direction of accumulation.”

“Then, a single person could amass all echoes.” Davram said.

“Exactly,” Onder nodded in emphasis. “And the High Magi believe that this effort is behind the earthquakes we’ve been feeling. It’s related to the accumulation.”

“One of Jorin’s mistresses has been spreading a rumor that Jorin senses the earthquakes before they come,” said Davram, “like Alize.”

“I bet he started that rumor himself.” Kell quipped, “He just wants to remind us that his power is mandated from the gods.”

“I don’t think you could feign sensing the earthquakes.” Alize said.

“You can feign anything when you’re a prince.” Kell responded irritably.

“But my clan leader could feel them too.”

Onder looked grave. He returned both the vials to his sac. “It would make sense for a prince and a Hrumi clan leader, but what about the earthquakes? And Alize?”

“The only echoes I had came with the gray magic,” Alize reminded the Magi.

“And you also anticipate the earthquakes even without your magic.” Onder said thoughtfully. “Listen to me Alize, when those Magi died, this magic and the echo bound to it should have returned to Arouah. But the echo sought you and you alone, not Davram or Kell who also stood by. The High Magis had no explanation for that.”

Alize narrowed her eyes and folded her arms. She flinched slightly when she felt Kell’s hand on her back. He quickly withdrew it.

“So what do we do?” he asked.

“The High Magis wish to meet Alize.”

“We can leave tonight.” Kell said. “Before they close the gates.”

After Davram and Onder left, Kell lingered behind. “Will you be ready to go?”

“Certainly.” Earlier in the day Alize had painstakingly assembled the dress, smug to emerge victorious at last.

“Er...” Kell raised his eyebrows. “I think you’ve got the top part on backwards though.”

“Really?” Alize grumbled, glancing at the blue and red diamond pattern across her chest. “I’ll fix it.”

Kell passed her a bag of food, “And you should change your bandages before we leave.”

“Already did. But, what about my horse?”

Kell’s eyes brightened. “I have a plan.”

Alize found his smile contagious. Even after he left, the feeling was slow to fade. Alize sighed and started untying the belt at her waist. She loathed to admit how anxious she felt to return to the forest now that she knew what awaited her there.