his Outlookers, Emperor Jarell vowed to destroy the Society. The waterlords' power in Sileria had gone unchallenged for centuries. But now the most powerful ruler who had ever lived was waging war on the most dangerous wizards in the world, seeking them out despite the huge risks and heavy cost, forcing them underground and into hiding—and also driving thousands of Silerians into destitution and death.
The Valdani had foolishly believed their battle was won when, after a few years, they succeeded in destroying Harlon, the Society's most powerful wizard. However, he was eventually succeeded by Kiloran, who became even more notorious during the ensuing years. Indeed, after so many years of eluding the Valdani and maintaining the Honored Society's stranglehold over Sileria, Kiloran was now reputed to be the most powerful waterlord who had ever lived—perhaps even more powerful than Marjan himself, the very first waterlord.
And so Kiloran frightened most Guardians even more than the Outlookers did.
However, at least the Guardians had found some small benefit in the struggle that was crippling an already impoverished land. With the vast Valdani gossamer industry now destroyed, and with the Society occupied with fighting the Valdani, the Guardians were able to turn a decent profit by supplying refined gossamer at the best prices on the black market.
"We're nearly done here," Derlen told Tashinar. "They can finish packing the rest without me—if this is important?"
"It is." The old woman led him back to Mirabar, who glanced up briefly with hostile golden eyes, then returned to brooding over the strange drawing she had made in the dirt.
Derlen's brow puckered with interest. "What is this?"
"It's something I saw in one of my mad visions," Mirabar said in her most abrasive tone.
To his credit, Derlen didn't stomp away in a huff.
Tashinar said, "We were wondering if you can identify this symbol."
He traced it with a fingertip. "It looks Kintish to me."
"Kintish." Tashinar nodded. "I thought it looked—"
"Do you know what it means?" Mirabar asked, her tone a bit less hostile.
Derlen shook his head, then stroked his gray beard. He had lost his wife in a Valdani raid five years ago and was now raising his son alone, a responsibility which Tashinar suspected accounted for his turning gray so young.
"No, I know only a few Kintish symbols," he said. "Just the ones that were relevant to my family's trade. And that was a long time ago, too... " He frowned at the symbol a moment longer, then shook his head again. "No, I don't know what it means. But it definitely looks Kintish to me."
After he left them alone, Tashinar asked, "Do you think your warrior could be Kintish?"
Mirabar shrugged, staring at the symbol with absorption, seeking to unlock its secret. "I don't know, but I..."
"What?"
"I keep asking the Beckoner how I will know this warrior." The wind toyed with her red curls. "I think this is the answer."
"Are all the Beckoner's answers this oblique?"
"All of them," Mirabar said with evident irritation.
"A great warrior is coming... from Kinto?" After a moment, Tashinar said slowly, "But he still might be Silerian."
Mirabar glanced up at her. "How could a Kintish warrior be Silerian?"
"He might not be Kintish. He might just be coming from there."
Mirabar's voice was impatient as she said, "Now why would a Silerian warrior be in Kintish lands? If there's even such a thing as a Silerian warrior."
"Armian," Tashinar said, her voice wispy as the notion occurred to her. "Could he be coming at last?"
"Who?"
"Armian."
"Who in the Fires is Armian?" Mirabar demanded.
"He was Harlon's son."
Mirabar shot to her feet. " Harlon's son? "
"Yes."
"Do you mean to say that I've been having visions about a waterlord ?"
"No. He's not... I mean, he's probably not a waterlord. After all, his father died before—"
"An assassin then?"
"Maybe."
"I've been having visions about an assassin?" Mirabar sputtered. "Derlen was
The Valdani had foolishly believed their battle was won when, after a few years, they succeeded in destroying Harlon, the Society's most powerful wizard. However, he was eventually succeeded by Kiloran, who became even more notorious during the ensuing years. Indeed, after so many years of eluding the Valdani and maintaining the Honored Society's stranglehold over Sileria, Kiloran was now reputed to be the most powerful waterlord who had ever lived—perhaps even more powerful than Marjan himself, the very first waterlord.
And so Kiloran frightened most Guardians even more than the Outlookers did.
However, at least the Guardians had found some small benefit in the struggle that was crippling an already impoverished land. With the vast Valdani gossamer industry now destroyed, and with the Society occupied with fighting the Valdani, the Guardians were able to turn a decent profit by supplying refined gossamer at the best prices on the black market.
"We're nearly done here," Derlen told Tashinar. "They can finish packing the rest without me—if this is important?"
"It is." The old woman led him back to Mirabar, who glanced up briefly with hostile golden eyes, then returned to brooding over the strange drawing she had made in the dirt.
Derlen's brow puckered with interest. "What is this?"
"It's something I saw in one of my mad visions," Mirabar said in her most abrasive tone.
To his credit, Derlen didn't stomp away in a huff.
Tashinar said, "We were wondering if you can identify this symbol."
He traced it with a fingertip. "It looks Kintish to me."
"Kintish." Tashinar nodded. "I thought it looked—"
"Do you know what it means?" Mirabar asked, her tone a bit less hostile.
Derlen shook his head, then stroked his gray beard. He had lost his wife in a Valdani raid five years ago and was now raising his son alone, a responsibility which Tashinar suspected accounted for his turning gray so young.
"No, I know only a few Kintish symbols," he said. "Just the ones that were relevant to my family's trade. And that was a long time ago, too... " He frowned at the symbol a moment longer, then shook his head again. "No, I don't know what it means. But it definitely looks Kintish to me."
After he left them alone, Tashinar asked, "Do you think your warrior could be Kintish?"
Mirabar shrugged, staring at the symbol with absorption, seeking to unlock its secret. "I don't know, but I..."
"What?"
"I keep asking the Beckoner how I will know this warrior." The wind toyed with her red curls. "I think this is the answer."
"Are all the Beckoner's answers this oblique?"
"All of them," Mirabar said with evident irritation.
"A great warrior is coming... from Kinto?" After a moment, Tashinar said slowly, "But he still might be Silerian."
Mirabar glanced up at her. "How could a Kintish warrior be Silerian?"
"He might not be Kintish. He might just be coming from there."
Mirabar's voice was impatient as she said, "Now why would a Silerian warrior be in Kintish lands? If there's even such a thing as a Silerian warrior."
"Armian," Tashinar said, her voice wispy as the notion occurred to her. "Could he be coming at last?"
"Who?"
"Armian."
"Who in the Fires is Armian?" Mirabar demanded.
"He was Harlon's son."
Mirabar shot to her feet. " Harlon's son? "
"Yes."
"Do you mean to say that I've been having visions about a waterlord ?"
"No. He's not... I mean, he's probably not a waterlord. After all, his father died before—"
"An assassin then?"
"Maybe."
"I've been having visions about an assassin?" Mirabar sputtered. "Derlen was
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