Alta

“Ah,” Marit interrupted, with a wan smile, “You see, the Great Ladies, not trusting servants, call upon their own ladies-in-waiting to serve at these meetings. I have seen them, as has Nofret. They may show one face in public, but the Magi hate each other as much as they hate rivals outside the Tower of Wisdom. More so, perhaps, in some ways. They are constantly seeking to topple one another. That is probably the only thing that keeps them from becoming all-powerful.”

“Well, that’s something, at least,” Can said, scratching his head. “But are you sure of that?”

Marit smiled mirthlessly. “They are not only at each others’ throats, they are making real efforts to slay one another. Just today, Nofret told me, someone attempted to poison Magus Kephru with the wine served at the shadow council meeting. If he had not taken the precaution of testing it first, whoever it was would have succeeded. And no one but another Magus could place poison in a single cup when all were served from the same jar.

“Oh,” Gan replied, rather nonplussed. “That is—interesting.”

“But not useful, at least, not to us,” Heklatis opined. “I would not trust any of them as an ally, and that is the only possible use any of them could be to us.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Kiron said thoughtfully. “Any-thing bad that happens to any of them is likely to be placed first at the doorstep of the nearest rival, and then every other Magus, and only third at an outsider.”

“You have a point.” Oset-re sucked on his lower lip. “The problem is, they each have a half century or more of experience in active deceit and treachery to call upon, whereas we—” he shrugged. “Experience and treachery will overcome youth and idealism with no effort whatsoever.”

Kiron shook his head. “But we have some of that experience available to us.”

“Not unless you are far older than you look!” said Gan.

Kiron sighed. “Perhaps, having grown up with education available to you, you think too lightly of it. I do not. Scrolls, Gan. Volumes of wisdom available to all of us at any time. You have studied more of them than I. What do our texts, the words of our great generals, say to do when an enemy has superior resources?”

“Run away?” Gan suggested brightly.

“Move to a theater where he no longer commands those resources,” Kaleth said immediately. “Find ways to deny him those resources.”

Kiron turned to Aket-ten and Heklatis. “This is where I ask you if you have an answer to that question I asked you some time ago.”

He didn’t actually expect an answer; he really just wanted them to say “no,” or that they were still working on it, so that he could explain to the rest what his idea was—an idea even more urgent now that Toreth was no longer with them.

But to his shock and amazement, the two looked at each other for a long moment. And then Aket-ten answered, soberly, “I believe that we do.”

SIXTEEN

GAN looked from Kiron to Aket-ten and back again. “I don’t suppose you would care to explain that? I don’t mean to be rude, but—well, I’m not completely sure just how a girl and a Healer could fit into this situation, no matter what you asked them to find.”

Kiron ignored Aket-ten’s glare. He knew she’d have a few words later—with him, or with Gan, or both—but she would just have to control her annoyance for now.

“Toreth’s long-term plan was to put enough Jousters into the field that we could negate the Tian Jousters without needing the storms that the Magi were sending,” he reminded them.

Kaleth swallowed at the sound of Toreth’s name, but nodded. “I recall that,” he said. “We both thought that once the Magi were no longer necessary to the war, their influence would wane somewhat. That was before we realized what else they were doing, of course. Still, even then, it was a good plan. If nothing else, they would stop draining the Winged Ones in order to send the storms.”

That made them all silent, and Marit shuddered. “When Kaleth told me—I could hardly believe it. But then Nofret and I saw the Great Ladies growing ever so slightly younger looking, not older, day by day—now they appear to be perhaps half their actual age.” She shook her head. “I cannot fathom why no one else notices, unless it is sheer willfulness not to see. Everyone does speak of how well-preserved they are, or how they have lost weight and become more fit, but they say nothing about looking so—unnaturally young. The great blessing is ‘May you live a thousand years,’ but to think that this is what they might be trying to do—it is monstrous—”