before replying. “Sometimes Azure flies a message to Nicodemus, but only I can understand her dialect of Numinous.” A golden sentence flew from Shannon’s brow to his familiar’s. The bird bobbed her head and flapped her way back to Shannon’s shoulder.
“For a few wizards, age or literary trauma steals our ability to see anything but magical text.” Shannon gestured to his all-white eyes. “Time did so to me. But those like me can rapidly exchange information with animal familiars.”
Two Numinous streams rushed between wizard and parrot. Now Shannon pointed his face directly at Deirdre’s. “Through this protocol, I can see through Azure’s eyes. I’m doing so now.”
Deirdre studied man and bird. “Such strange practices you wizards have.”
Again Shannon let a silence grow before he responded. “I hear druids also have strange relationships with animals. But hopefully this convocation will do more than renew treaties; hopefully it will make our different societies less strange to one another.”
Nicodemus had never heard the old man be so hesitant and so cautious with his words.
Azure, apparently having looked around the room enough for Shannon, broke the Numinous stream and turned to preening one of Shannon’s silver dreadlocks.
Magistra Okeke spoke. “We should tell the boy why we are here.”
Shannon’s mouth tensed, and then he motioned toward three chairs. “Then let us sit. This, Nicodemus, is a fortuitous interview. Deirdre passed me in the halls this morning and inquired about you. And Magistra Okeke appeared at my door only moments ago, quite unexpectedly.”
“I would like the boy to talk about the Erasmine Prophecy,” the sentinel said, coolly regarding first Shannon and then Deirdre.
Nicodemus felt his cheeks grow hot.
Shannon turned toward the sentinel. “I see you’ve been busy researching Starhaven rumors.”
With a half-smile, the druid looked from one wizard to the other before adding, “I am also interested in this prophecy.”
The sentinel narrowed her eyes at the other woman.
Three grand authors in one room, each distrustful of the others—Nicodemus would have felt safer if the study were full of starving lycanthropes.
“Regarding prophecy, there is little to tell,” Shannon said. “Nicodemus is not the Halcyon.”
“Why so certain?” Deirdre’s green eyes fixed on the old man. “Perhaps we should start with what the first wizards foresaw.”
Shannon started to reply but then paused. Prophecy, being closely related to religion, was seldom discussed among different magical societies. Doing so was considered impolite at best, blasphemous at worst.
However, Shannon could not refuse a guest’s direct request. “Erasmus foresaw the War of Disjunction: the final struggle between demons and humanity that will come when the fiends escape the ancient continent and invade this one. The prophecies predict that Los will be reborn and will lead the Pandemonium—the great demonic army—across the ocean to destroy all human language. Erasmus founded the Numinous Order of Civil Wizardry to repel the Pandemonium. His prophecy predicts that the Order will prevail only if it heeds the teachings of a master spellwright known as ‘the Halcyon.’”
Deirdre shifted in her chair. “But how could any force destroy human language?”
Magistra Okeke answered impatiently: “The demons will use special spells called metaspells to decouple the meaning of language from its form.”
The druid gave the sentinel a blank look.
“What Magistra Okeke means,” Shannon explained, “is that the demons will divorce the signifier from the signified. Phrases and words will take on unexpected meanings. Civilization will crumble into animal brutishness.”
“I don’t understand your jargon,” Deirdre said. “But this interests me. The druids hold to the Prophecy of the Peregrine, which predicts that the Pandemonium will burn our groves and crush our standing stones. Our
“For a few wizards, age or literary trauma steals our ability to see anything but magical text.” Shannon gestured to his all-white eyes. “Time did so to me. But those like me can rapidly exchange information with animal familiars.”
Two Numinous streams rushed between wizard and parrot. Now Shannon pointed his face directly at Deirdre’s. “Through this protocol, I can see through Azure’s eyes. I’m doing so now.”
Deirdre studied man and bird. “Such strange practices you wizards have.”
Again Shannon let a silence grow before he responded. “I hear druids also have strange relationships with animals. But hopefully this convocation will do more than renew treaties; hopefully it will make our different societies less strange to one another.”
Nicodemus had never heard the old man be so hesitant and so cautious with his words.
Azure, apparently having looked around the room enough for Shannon, broke the Numinous stream and turned to preening one of Shannon’s silver dreadlocks.
Magistra Okeke spoke. “We should tell the boy why we are here.”
Shannon’s mouth tensed, and then he motioned toward three chairs. “Then let us sit. This, Nicodemus, is a fortuitous interview. Deirdre passed me in the halls this morning and inquired about you. And Magistra Okeke appeared at my door only moments ago, quite unexpectedly.”
“I would like the boy to talk about the Erasmine Prophecy,” the sentinel said, coolly regarding first Shannon and then Deirdre.
Nicodemus felt his cheeks grow hot.
Shannon turned toward the sentinel. “I see you’ve been busy researching Starhaven rumors.”
With a half-smile, the druid looked from one wizard to the other before adding, “I am also interested in this prophecy.”
The sentinel narrowed her eyes at the other woman.
Three grand authors in one room, each distrustful of the others—Nicodemus would have felt safer if the study were full of starving lycanthropes.
“Regarding prophecy, there is little to tell,” Shannon said. “Nicodemus is not the Halcyon.”
“Why so certain?” Deirdre’s green eyes fixed on the old man. “Perhaps we should start with what the first wizards foresaw.”
Shannon started to reply but then paused. Prophecy, being closely related to religion, was seldom discussed among different magical societies. Doing so was considered impolite at best, blasphemous at worst.
However, Shannon could not refuse a guest’s direct request. “Erasmus foresaw the War of Disjunction: the final struggle between demons and humanity that will come when the fiends escape the ancient continent and invade this one. The prophecies predict that Los will be reborn and will lead the Pandemonium—the great demonic army—across the ocean to destroy all human language. Erasmus founded the Numinous Order of Civil Wizardry to repel the Pandemonium. His prophecy predicts that the Order will prevail only if it heeds the teachings of a master spellwright known as ‘the Halcyon.’”
Deirdre shifted in her chair. “But how could any force destroy human language?”
Magistra Okeke answered impatiently: “The demons will use special spells called metaspells to decouple the meaning of language from its form.”
The druid gave the sentinel a blank look.
“What Magistra Okeke means,” Shannon explained, “is that the demons will divorce the signifier from the signified. Phrases and words will take on unexpected meanings. Civilization will crumble into animal brutishness.”
“I don’t understand your jargon,” Deirdre said. “But this interests me. The druids hold to the Prophecy of the Peregrine, which predicts that the Pandemonium will burn our groves and crush our standing stones. Our
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