Mine to Take by Dara Joy Page B

snorted in disdain. “Interfered!” He pierced each member with a disgusted look. Since they were all sitting at the long debate table and he was standing off to the far right side, Yaniff felt he had a pretty good advantage.
    As one, they all turned to stare at him, identical expressions of surprise on their faces.
    It was not often that Yaniff voiced such a vehement sentiment. Usually the old wizard’s opinions were shrouded in the mysterious verbiage universally adored by high-level mystics. Verbiage designed to send lesser wizards andscholars into a frenzy of interpretation. Indeed, it was often remarked that the more obscure the pronouncement, the more accurate the insight.
    The wizard named Gelfan was the first to recover from the shock of the bold statement.
    This did not surprise Yaniff. Of all the members in the High Guild, it was Gelfan who had to be watched most carefully. The man was shrewd, powerful, and not prone to leniency. He was a high sixth-level mystic who wore his immense power like a proud cloak.
    Yaniff had never been impressed by him.
    “You have something to say to us, Yaniff?”
    Yaniff came forward, leaning on his tall wizard’s staff, his long white hair flowing behind him. A small crystal point flashed in his ear, as it did from every member of the House of Sages. They were all members of the Charl; an elite group of warrior mystics whose special skills were revered throughout the Alliance.
    In addition to the crystal mark of the Charl, Yaniff wore the crimson-magenta robes adorned with the golden symbols of a high seventh-level mystic. In all of Aviara there was none greater than he.
    As usual, Bojo, his winged companion, sat squarely on his shoulder.
    He captured each and every member in his penetrating regard as he shifted his focus down the long table. It was well noted that Yaniff’s eyes were darker than the darkest night, their depths were always unfathomable.
    Bojo captured the Sages in the same black-eyed stare. The overall effect was daunting, to say the least.
    “Yes, I have something to say. We have wasted too much time with these infernal, endless debates! It is time for action. Taj Gian is missing; of that there is no doubt. There is great unrest on M’yan, the homeworld of the Familiar people. We have an enduring, binding covenant withthem and even if we did not, we personally owe such action to Guardian of the Mist. We must send a knight after him. Now.”
    Gelfan’s mouth pursed in annoyance. “No one is disputing our loyalty to the Familiar people, Yaniff. You need not hold our special alliance with them before our faces as if we are unaware of it.”
    “No? Then what is taking you so long to act?”
    Ernak, a kindly old wizard who could never make up his mind on any issue because he talked himself in circles, stroked his face thoughtfully. “We must debate such issues, Yaniff. Otherwise, how would we know we were proceeding on the proper course?”
    “True, true,” several voices chimed in.
    “But on the other hand,” Ernak continued, “perhaps we do need to come to a decision…”
    Yaniff stared at Ernak with a flat expression. There Ernak goes. He winced. Round and round.
    “True, true,” the same voices concurred. It was all Yaniff could do to contain himself.
    “I say this!” Wolthanth suddenly stood up, pointing his forefinger straight up in the air. Everyone silenced to hear what momentous thing the man had to say.
    Unfortunately, in the time it took for Wolthanth to stand and deliver that uprised finger, he had already forgotten what it was he wished to say.
    Such an occurrence was a regular one and seemed to go along with the general age factor in the room. To be a member in the House of Sages one had to be a Sage, and to be a Sage one had to be around for quite some time. Yaniff shook his head, muttering under his breath. It was business as usual in the High Guild.
    Oh, how he would love to hurl a rapid power bolt at the wall just to silence them