He left the garden wondering why she was so anxious for his company, but he soon forgot his puzzlement in the rush of the day’s activities. First there was a long and uncomfortable session of planning for the movement of the army. Marreth was more unreasonable than usual, and, though Anareme, Vandaris, and even Terrel urged him to send the army south at once, he refused to allow it to be moved until after Eltiron’s wedding, two weeks away. When the meeting ended, Vandaris and Eltiron went to their daily practice match, and after that there was a series of lunches and receptions for various groups of nobility who were interested in meeting Eltiron’s prospective bride. In the evening there was another feast that jammed the banquet hall with courtiers and entertainers.
It was late when Eltiron finally reached his chambers, but he lay awake for some time, thinking about Jermain. As a result, he slept later than he had intended next morning. When he awoke at last, he hurried to the garden to keep his appointment with Amberglas, but stopped short when he entered and saw two figures waiting for him instead of one. He hesitated as he realized that the second person was Crystalorn. In broad daylight she did not seem much like the mischievous girl he had found eavesdropping on Terrel Lassond, and he felt a little shy.
Crystalorn looked up and saw him. “Prince Eltiron! Oh, good; I was beginning to wonder whether I understood Amberglas as well as I thought I did. Do you mind if I come to see this tower, too?”
“Of course not,” Eltiron said. “But I don’t think it will be very interesting. It’s just a tower.”
“Not necessarily,” Amberglas said absently. “Besides, people are frequently interested in very ordinary things such as candles and cartwheels and chimneys and eating. I don’t believe I’ve ever met anyone who wasn’t interested in eating, which is quite ordinary if you think about it, though perhaps you haven’t.”
“Yes, of course,” Eltiron said. “I mean, no, I haven’t.”
“I’d like to see your tower even if it is ordinary,” Crystalorn said. “And if Amberglas is interested in it, it probably isn’t.”
“What do you mean?” Eltiron asked as they started around the castle toward the Tower of Judgment.
Crystalorn glanced warily at Amberglas, who responded with an abstracted smile. Crystalorn shrugged and turned back to Eltiron. “Amberglas is a sorceress.”
Eltiron stared at Crystalorn for a moment, then looked at Amberglas with mingled disbelief and apprehension. “A sorceress?”
“Exactly,” Amberglas said, and Eltiron jumped. Crystalorn looked at him sharply, but did not speak, and he mumbled an apology. They continued toward the Tower of Judgment in silence, while Eltiron tried to sort out his emotions.
The idea of someone so . . . so absentminded wielding magic power made Eltiron’s shoulders twitch uncomfortably. Sorcery was rare in Sevairn, but Eltiron had seen and heard enough to give him a healthy respect for magical abilities of any sort. Still, Amberglas hadn’t done anything unusual yet, and Crystalorn seemed to trust her completely. It occurred to him that it might be useful to have a friend who could work magic, particularly if Terrel or the other man he’d heard was using sorcery for something. But Amberglas?
By this time, they had reached the tower. The guard at the door stiffened to attention as he recognized Eltiron, then his eyes widened as he recognized Eltiron’s companions. His lips twitched, as if he were suppressing a question or a knowing smile, and when he looked back at Eltiron he seemed somehow more respectful, even though he had not changed position. Eltiron wondered if the guard’s reaction meant that he had heard about Crystalorn and Eltiron’s late-night wanderings, and decided it did. Suddenly, Eltiron felt much better about everything.
Crystalorn and Amberglas entered the tower first, and Eltiron followed. Once inside the tower, his uneasiness returned. He tried to conceal it, though it was not really necessary; Crystalorn was well ahead of him on the staircase and Amberglas seemed to grow more preoccupied as they neared the tower’s top. By the time he reached the last landing of the staircase, Eltiron had convinced himself that he was being foolish.
Amberglas and Crystalorn had already gone out onto the tower top, and Eltiron hurried to follow them. As he stepped through the door, he felt a moment’s dizziness and a sudden flash of heat, as if someone had rapidly opened and closed an oven door. He swung around in surprise and found himself facing Amberglas. “What are you doing?” he demanded.
“How very nice,” Amberglas said. She sounded remarkably pleased about something. “I rather thought you might, though of course I wasn’t sure, and I doubt that you realize it yourself yet, which is quite understandable since it isn’t at all obvious. But then, even when things are exceedingly obvious, people frequently overlook them, which generally causes a great deal of difficulty for everyone.”
“What are you two talking about?” Crystalorn said, looking from Eltiron to Amberglas and back again.
“I don’t know!” Eltiron said. “I felt something when I came through the door, and if she’s a sorceress it has to be her.” He could still feel it, he realized suddenly. There was a warmth around him that had nothing to do with the weather, and his head felt strangely light.
“You are quite wrong, though I can see why you might think so,” Amberglas said. “Magic is so very confusing for beginners, particularly when one doesn’t know it.”
Eltiron stared at her with a sinking feeling. “What are you talking about?”
“You and the tower, of course,” Amberglas said.
“Amberglas, sometimes I could shake you,” Crystalorn said in exasperation. “That doesn’t explain anything! What does the Tower of Judgment have to do with Eltiron?”
“He has a link to it. Or rather, he has a link to the power within it, which isn’t quite the same thing but is considerably closer than most people think.”
“That’s impossible!” Eltiron said. “Even if the Tower of Judgment is magical, I’d have to be a sorcerer to use it. And I don’t know anything about sorcery.”
“I’m afraid that’s not true at all. Of course, most of what you know is quite wrong, which is perfectly understandable since you were born in Sevairn, though it wouldn’t be if you had been born in Navren or even Vircheta. Still, I can’t recommend it. It’s so very difficult to change the place one was born in, and it’s hardly ever worth the effort, particularly if you’re considering Navren. I believe it’s quite an unpleasant place.”
“I meant that I haven’t been trained to be a sorcerer,” Eltiron said. “So how can I have a link with the tower?”
“That,” said Amberglas, looking directly at him, “is something I intend to find out.”
“What does this link feel like?” Crystalorn asked, eyeing Eltiron speculatively.
“It doesn’t feel much like anything.”
“It isn’t like someone humming in the back of your head?”
“Dear me, why do you ask that?” Amberglas said.
“I’ve been feeling something like that off and on ever since we got up here,” Crystalorn admitted, “and I was wondering if it was the same thing.”
“Not at all, though I can see why you might think so. I don’t suppose you’ve ever noticed it before?”
“No,” Crystalorn said positively. “I’d remember.”
“How very interesting,” Amberglas said to the stone battlement just behind Crystalorn’s head.
Eltiron waited for her to continue, but she did not.
After a moment, Crystalorn sighed. “Well, then, if Eltiron has some sort of link with this tower, what can he do with it?” she asked. “Could he use it to find out what Salentor’s up to?”
“I rather doubt it, since there is very little that can be done with any of the towers just at present,” Amberglas said. “Though I expect that can be changed. Most things can, if one works at them hard enough; part of the difficulty in this case is that I believe most of the towers are not really suited to being deliberately controlled.”
“Towers?” Crystalorn sai
d. She peered over the parapet at the rest of Leshiya Castle. “How much of this castle is magic?”
“None of it, I’m afraid; the Tower of Judgment isn’t really part of this castle. Of course, it would be much more convenient to have everything in one place, but it doesn’t seem as though Galerinth was particularly interested in convenience, which is really quite like him now that I come to think of it.”
“Then what other towers were you talking about?” Eltiron asked.
“And who’s Galerinth?” Crystalorn put in.
“Galerinth is the sorcerer who built the towers,” Amberglas said. “I believe there is at least one in each of the Seven Kingdoms, though it’s rather difficult to be certain, since no one but Galerinth knew where they all were and he has been dead for a great many centuries. They are all identical—the towers, I mean, not the centuries, though of course they might seem quite similar after a while if one actually lived through them.”
“How do you know the Tower of Judgment is one of Galerinth’s towers?” Eltiron asked.
“It’s exactly like mine, or rather, the tower I’ve lived in for the past several years. Which wouldn’t matter at all, except that it is definitely one of the towers Galerinth built, so of course all the others are exactly like it.”
“What would a sorcerer want with a bunch of towers?” Crystalorn asked.
“I’m afraid he didn’t tell anyone, which is most inconvenient, though perhaps understandable since it turned out so very badly. I’m sure he was quite embarrassed, because no matter how good one’s motives are it’s awkward to have such a large project do so little. People with good motives frequently forget to pay proper attention to the way they intend to do something, though not always.”
“You mean they don’t work?”
Amberglas nodded. “And it’s a great pity Galerinth didn’t know more about sorcery than he thought he did when he put all that power into the towers. Though of course, no one then knew quite as much as we do now, what with a number of years in between, so it wasn’t entirely his fault; still, he really should have known better.”
“What did he do wrong?” Eltiron asked.
“He tried to make the towers perfectly good; I believe he wanted to make sure they could never be used for evil purposes, which was not at all wise, and he very nearly succeeded.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Eltiron said. “It sounds like a good idea, especially if they’re so powerful.”
“Nothing at all,” Amberglas replied. “Unfortunately, magic isn’t particularly good or evil; one can use it either way, depending on how one feels at the moment. Rather like an ax, which one can use to chop wood or to chop off people’s heads, though some people don’t think chopping off heads is a bad thing unless it’s their head, which is perhaps a little shortsighted of them. And of course it’s quite impossible to make an ax that will chop wood but can’t possibly be used to chop heads, so naturally they didn’t work at all well.”
“The towers?”
“Exactly. They have a great deal of power, of course, but it’s almost impossible to get at because half of it isn’t there, which is most regrettable.”
“So the towers don’t do whatever it is they’re supposed to do because Galerinth took out all the power that he thought could do evil things,” Crystalorn said. She frowned thoughtfully and began twisting one long strand of hair around her fingers. “But where’d he put it?”
“I really don’t know, though it would make things a great deal easier if I did because what with the Matholych coming and so on, it would be so very useful if the towers worked. Or even one of them.”
“Amberglas!” Crystalorn said with irritation. “Every time I think I’m beginning to figure out what you’re talking about, you bring up something new. What’s a Matholych?”
The description that followed was extremely confused, but by the time Amberglas finished, both of her listeners were thoroughly alarmed. The Matholych was something very old and powerful, which destroyed people and animals wherever it moved. Only sorcery could fight it, though unfortunately no one seemed to know exactly what kind of sorcery. There were a great many different theories, but since the Matholych ate magic, testing them was apt to be rather awkward. . . .
“I thought you said the Matholych ate people,” Crystalorn objected.
“Not at all,” Amberglas replied. “It eats magic, and there is quite a large amount of magical power in killing people and animals. Of course, getting power that way is a bit unpleasant, which may explain why it is generally regarded as Black Sorcery by everyone who doesn’t use it.”
Eltiron shuddered. Somehow, killing people to get magic from their deaths seemed much worse than killing them for food. “And this thing is coming north?”
“Quite soon.”
“I’m going to have to tell Vandi about this,” Eltiron said. “She’s been trying to get Father to do something about the Hoven-Thalar, but this sounds even worse.”
“Vandi?” Crystalorn sounded puzzled.
“My father’s sister, Vandaris.” Eltiron did not feel capable of describing Vandaris in greater detail.
“I believe Vandaris is already aware of the problem,” Amberglas said. “She’s really been quite helpful.”
“You know Vandaris?” Eltiron said.
“Quite well. I believe we met in Torrith, when that exceedingly silly Princess was trying to have the town conquered by Bar-Zienar so she could marry the King.”
Eltiron remembered the incident, though it had taken place nearly ten years before; it was one of Vandaris’s less successful campaigns, and Marreth had taunted her with it for years. Eltiron was rather surprised that Amberglas and Vandaris had remained friends so long. His acerbic aunt seemed to him to have little in common with Amberglas, particularly if this rather vague woman really was a sorceress.
“That’s nice, but what are we going to do about this Matholych thing?” Crystalorn said.
“I’m afraid Galerinth’s towers are the only thing I know of that might be at all useful for doing anything to stop the Matholych, which is a bit unfortunate though not exactly surprising.”
“But you said the towers don’t work properly! So how can we get them to do anything at all?”
“That depends almost entirely on how willing Prince Eltiron is to try strengthening his link with the Tower of Judgment.”
Crystalorn’s expression suddenly became very thoughtful, and she fell silent. Eltiron looked down, trying to think. The Hoven-Thalar were bad enough, but at least he knew what to expect from them when they came north. The Matholych seemed more like the stuff of nightmares—deadly, powerful, and unpredictable. He did not want to even think about it. But if Amberglas was right, he might be the only one who had a chance of doing anything to stop it. “What do you want me to do?” he said at last.
All Amberglas asked was that Eltiron spend a few minutes each day with her at the top of the Tower of Judgment. Eltiron agreed with some relief, and for the next twelve days he made sure that he found the time she had requested. With all the official meetings, parades, fittings, Councils, feasts, sword practices, and wedding preparations, this was no easy task. He was not motivated entirely by fear of the Matholych; on most mornings Crystalorn joined them, and Eltiron was glad of the chance to see her without crowds of courtiers around them. He was beginning to like his promised bride.
On the first morning Eltiron was nervous, not knowing what to expect. Amberglas seemed a bit vaguer than usual, but as far as Eltiron could tell she did nothing unusual, and the time passed quickly in conversation. Though he was relieved to find that she did not try to teach him spells, he occasionally wondered just what she was trying to do. At last he asked her, but her response was so extremely confusing that he decided she did not want to explain. He did not ask again; he had plenty of other things to worry about.
Chief among Eltiron’s other worries was Lord Terrel Lassond. After a few days, Terrel had ceased courting Crystalorn in public, and at
first Eltiron had been relieved. Then he noticed Terrel watching Vandaris at one of the receptions, and he began to grow uneasy again. He started to watch Terrel and realized that Terrel spent a good deal of his time studying Vandaris. Once he was sure, Eltiron tried to warn his aunt, but she was unconcerned.
“Lassond is the least of my problems,” she told Eltiron. “Anareme can’t get the army moving until Marreth gives the orders, and he’s being even more of an idiot than usual.”
“I’ve noticed,” Eltiron replied. That was another of the things that were bothering him. Marreth had always been stubborn and short-tempered, but since Crystalorn arrived he had been harder to live with than ever before. Even Terrel seemed to be on edge when Marreth was present. Fortunately, Marreth did not seem to take much interest in the preparations for Eltiron and Crystalorn’s wedding, so Eltiron was spared the worst of his father’s temperament, at least until the wedding breakfast on the first day of the festivities.
Custom and tradition dictated that a royal groom begin the three-day wedding festival with his family, so Eltiron broke his fast with Marreth and Vandaris. It was almost amusing, in a way. Vandaris and Marreth spent half the meal trading insults. The argument wandered over many subjects, and they agreed on none of them. Marreth kept coming back to Vandaris’s profession; he considered it an insult to his name that she should be a mercenary. Finally Vandaris told him that it was a good thing that she, not he, was the one who had become a mercenary. Marreth, she said, would have made a very poor soldier.
“We’ll see if you say the same when I’ve beaten you in the sword games this afternoon!” Marreth retorted.
Vandaris’s eyebrows rose. “You’re in the sword games? Are you sure you’re up to it? Darinhal seemed to think you’d be better off doing something . . . less strenuous.”
“Darinhal forgets that he is merely the castle physician, not the King!”
“Doesn’t surprise me,” Vandaris muttered. “But when did your name go on the list? I didn’t see it when I looked over the layout two days ago.”