Loremaster Olangah listened to Archmage Miir’s account of the past days, expression dark. “So the one who tainted Moya and Ahn with those traces of soul matter years ago—what was her name?”
“Lady Larkwing of the Dominion Thaumaturgy Labs,” Miir supplied.
“This Larkwing started the project that eventually resulted in orphans, a former Dominion assassin, a noblewoman’s daughter, and a condemned aethermage being called here to Tanahr when their souls were restored?”
“Larkwing and another mage who died—the father of the two women, Lenore and Emrys—along with that general and someone named Felsin were behind it. Not complicated at all,” she said dryly. “Then Larkwing died in the leytemple explosion that hurt Ahndras, and someone used her body parts to summon corruption and Kraah.”
“I don’t even know where to start. If those first experiments were something the Dominar had at one point signed off on—even if, as Corvus Sevens testifies in his letter, it was later disallowed, all evidence destroyed…” Loremaster Olangah’s voice faded.
Archmage Miir drummed her fingers impatiently on the side table.
“It means there are more like the Dominion refugees and those children out there, broken by leymages like Larkwing,” Miir said with a fierce scowl. “Even here in Tanahr. It means we have not seen the last of this monstrous magic. And if there are more reliquaries, corrupting temples and leylines, we are in real trouble.”
Loremaster Olangah pinched the bridge of her nose, wincing as if from a headache. “You are doing the right thing in assigning Moya as a permanent guardian to Mage Frost. I know it won’t be easy for her to leave her life here, but these are dangerous times. We will need all the help we can get.”
“At least now that they have tamed the corruption and the Duskmere portal is working again, she will be just a short jump and ferry trip away from Easthaven. Did you speak with Niamh Starsong about returning to the Northgate to search for another Starling relic?”
“She, Jeron, and a small army will be on their way within the week. You know, she hasn’t seen the nightmare visions since Ahn’s spell. I can’t help but wonder how many he mended of such evil.” Miir’s eyes went distant.
“Indeed. One last order of business. Captain Hawke tells me Leneah Thorne is traveling from Reshk by Waystone and portal so that she can be here in time to meet Corvus. It seems your informants in the Order were right. Her mother was our top undercover Dominion informant, and he is most likely the brother she never met.”
“Some joy to come out of all this. The Source works in peculiar ways. Now, what do you want me to do about all this mess besides my work with the Order?” Archmage Miir watched Loremaster Olangah, gaze sharp.
Olangah sat up straighter, thoughtful. “We will search any temples whose leylines directly connect with the Northgate. I can put together a group for that if you wish. In the meantime, reach out to your contacts. In the Dominion, Canrish, the Merrow Isles, and anywhere in the Allied nations. If there are other such incidents, we need to know about them. I’ll be working with Corvus Sevens and Emrhys Coldriver to find out all they know.”
“That is a good idea,” Miir said. “I’ve asked Ahndras Frost to sending two of his best scouts to assess the situation with Templegate and Concord Archives connection—with all those priests heading to their Archives, there could be something amiss. I will be directing one of my best undercover informants to go with them. What of Premier Riva, and the other allied leaders? What do we tell them? In the past, the Order has recommended secrecy, but I believe we are past that now.”
“We tell them the truth, or at least enough of it to light a fire under the more complacent of our connections,” Loremaster Olangah said, lips thinning in displeasure. “The Kraah have been sighted rampaging in Easthaven, Kraah magic is tearing the very souls from people’s bodies, and Dominion mages were trying to develop soulless soldiers using ancient Kraah curses, even if the Dominar changed her mind. All things that we can reasonably prove.”
“Well, then. Enjoy that. I’ll keep you updated on any news. Be careful, Loremaster. These are uncharted and very choppy waters, and people don’t like bad news.”
“I’m always careful,” the Loremaster said. “For what good it does, anyway.”
“Good. Let us hope it’s enough,” Archmage Miir said, taking her leave in a swirl of dark cloak.
Lizzie Sinclaire 