sky.
“In any case,” he said, turning back from the enchanted sharpness to the deepening gloom within the upstairs room, “I suspect that's why the mazes were dug, level upon level of them ... their patterns are disturbingly similar to the garden mazes I saw in the east, and I know that glass, water, and bone were used by certain sects to further channel power—all things which have been found in the walls down there. And that's what frightens me about a Gate having been jammed open in the Vaults.”
Seldes Katne startled so badly that she dropped the crystal. “Jammed open?”
Antryg blinked at her in surprise in the failing light. “Of course. Isn't it obvious that's what has happened?”
She said nothing, only stared at him, dark eyes wide with shock.
“That didn't occur to you?”
“I ... I thought the Gates didn't remain open for more than a few minutes.”
“They don't,” he said simply. “And it takes a tremendous amount of power to hold one open even for that long, which is as it should be, given the way the fabric of the universe weakens around a Gate. If one were held open even under ordinary circumstances, I'm not sure what the results would be; given the nature of the maze and the presence of the energy lines, the fact that the Gate is moving shouldn't come as too much of a surprise, though it will make it a beast of a job to track.”
He rubbed his hands absently, as if trying to massage old aches from the twisted fingers. “At the moment it seems to be confining its ambulations to the Vaults, which is well and good. But the problem is, I can feel the situation is deteriorating. More Gates and wormholes are opening and closing, strange energies acting on the energies already moving through the Vaults ... and I don't like the idea that Joanna may be imprisoned down there in the middle of it.”
She murmured assent and fumbled to pick up the crystal, which had skidded beneath the rim of a painted blue-and-yellow plate; then her eyes returned to his. “I might try working in conjunction with a teles-ball,” she said after a hesitant moment. “Or you might, though I'm not sure how that will work with the geas. But teles can be used as power-sinks, as you know, and there are several very strong ones here in the Citadel.”
“No.”
The hard decisiveness in his voice made her look up in startled surprise. “What's wrong with a teles?”
Antryg shrugged and resumed his gawky pacing, now more purposefully, hunting around for his shawl. “I've never liked them. I know people use them for all manner of spells, from the summoning of elementals to the sending of messages to non-wizards ... but I've never trusted them.”
She could only stare at him, baffled—rather, Antryg supposed, as Joanna would be by someone who refused to use the telephone out of a professed fear that such devices ate the souls of their users.
“They're only glass and mercury ... ”
“Glass through which magic has been channeled, in which power has been accumulated, year upon year, century upon century,” replied Antryg, finding his shawl at last, wrapped around the teapot to keep the contents warm. The upper room of the Pepper-Grinder, though occupied by him for only a few hours, already had the beginnings of a formidable collection of books and scientific journals, stray flowers pressed for drying and at least two splendid, varicolored pinwheels set in a vase beside the window, turning like enormous sunflowers with the shift of the grass-scented wind.
“I know most of the academics consider it balderdash, but Brynnart of Pleth wrote that glass and mercury in combination have powers of their own, and I happen to believe him.”
“Brynnart of Pleth was insane,” Seldes Katne pointed out.
“So am I. That doesn't mean he wasn't right. And personally, I'm a bit leery of anything which has been imbued with that much magic over that long a period of time.”
She gave an uncertain half laugh. “If you're going to
“In any case,” he said, turning back from the enchanted sharpness to the deepening gloom within the upstairs room, “I suspect that's why the mazes were dug, level upon level of them ... their patterns are disturbingly similar to the garden mazes I saw in the east, and I know that glass, water, and bone were used by certain sects to further channel power—all things which have been found in the walls down there. And that's what frightens me about a Gate having been jammed open in the Vaults.”
Seldes Katne startled so badly that she dropped the crystal. “Jammed open?”
Antryg blinked at her in surprise in the failing light. “Of course. Isn't it obvious that's what has happened?”
She said nothing, only stared at him, dark eyes wide with shock.
“That didn't occur to you?”
“I ... I thought the Gates didn't remain open for more than a few minutes.”
“They don't,” he said simply. “And it takes a tremendous amount of power to hold one open even for that long, which is as it should be, given the way the fabric of the universe weakens around a Gate. If one were held open even under ordinary circumstances, I'm not sure what the results would be; given the nature of the maze and the presence of the energy lines, the fact that the Gate is moving shouldn't come as too much of a surprise, though it will make it a beast of a job to track.”
He rubbed his hands absently, as if trying to massage old aches from the twisted fingers. “At the moment it seems to be confining its ambulations to the Vaults, which is well and good. But the problem is, I can feel the situation is deteriorating. More Gates and wormholes are opening and closing, strange energies acting on the energies already moving through the Vaults ... and I don't like the idea that Joanna may be imprisoned down there in the middle of it.”
She murmured assent and fumbled to pick up the crystal, which had skidded beneath the rim of a painted blue-and-yellow plate; then her eyes returned to his. “I might try working in conjunction with a teles-ball,” she said after a hesitant moment. “Or you might, though I'm not sure how that will work with the geas. But teles can be used as power-sinks, as you know, and there are several very strong ones here in the Citadel.”
“No.”
The hard decisiveness in his voice made her look up in startled surprise. “What's wrong with a teles?”
Antryg shrugged and resumed his gawky pacing, now more purposefully, hunting around for his shawl. “I've never liked them. I know people use them for all manner of spells, from the summoning of elementals to the sending of messages to non-wizards ... but I've never trusted them.”
She could only stare at him, baffled—rather, Antryg supposed, as Joanna would be by someone who refused to use the telephone out of a professed fear that such devices ate the souls of their users.
“They're only glass and mercury ... ”
“Glass through which magic has been channeled, in which power has been accumulated, year upon year, century upon century,” replied Antryg, finding his shawl at last, wrapped around the teapot to keep the contents warm. The upper room of the Pepper-Grinder, though occupied by him for only a few hours, already had the beginnings of a formidable collection of books and scientific journals, stray flowers pressed for drying and at least two splendid, varicolored pinwheels set in a vase beside the window, turning like enormous sunflowers with the shift of the grass-scented wind.
“I know most of the academics consider it balderdash, but Brynnart of Pleth wrote that glass and mercury in combination have powers of their own, and I happen to believe him.”
“Brynnart of Pleth was insane,” Seldes Katne pointed out.
“So am I. That doesn't mean he wasn't right. And personally, I'm a bit leery of anything which has been imbued with that much magic over that long a period of time.”
She gave an uncertain half laugh. “If you're going to
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