Centuries of work had been wasted. Leonis had been a tool, but a useful one, and now he was dead. Unable to control his anger, Pallisur Traveled into The Lady’s domain, which had changed since the last time he’d seen it. It now resembled one of the expensive apartments on the top level of West Tower in Tir Yadar. In the totemic realm, reality was subject to the whims of those who had mastered its magics.

“Hera!” he shouted. “What did you do?”

“Exactly what I said I would,” said a voice from behind him. “I stopped you.”

He spun to face her, gathering arcane power to strike and sheathing it within divine power to break through her defenses.

She struck first, shattering his spell even as it formed, then flinging him back against a wall. He’d forgotten how strong Herasis was, especially on her own ground. With the possible exception of the totems, who remained tight-lipped about their own abilities, she was the only being who’d ever wielded three magics.

“Do you think to violate our laws now?” she demanded. “At this juncture? Do you remember what happened the last time we fought?”

The reminder brought him up short. When they waged war in the divine realm, their powers were reflected to the mortal realm, but magnified in such a way as to cause great destruction. After the first few incidents, the others had imposed rules on their behavior to prevent further damage. As if anything could be worse than the crime they’d already committed—the crime Pallisur was trying to undo.

“The ritual must proceed!” he said.

She raised an eyebrow. “And risk another Burning?” she asked. “Never.”

“I’ve changed the spell. There won’t be another Burning.”

“Oh, yes, your new ritual, the one that makes you the final arbiter of all who wield magic. What gives you the right?”

“It’s unfortunate but necessary,” he said smoothly. “It’s the only way.”

“It’s certainly a convenient side effect, giving you supreme power over all mages. Do you really think anyone’s stupid enough to believe that story?”

“It doesn’t particularly matter whether you believe it or not.”

“And what will happen to the human and elven mages if you take over? You might try to hide it, but I know how much you hate them.”

Pallisur growled. “They don’t deserve your concern. They enslaved our people!”

“So you claim,” Hera said. “But the Chosar I knew ruled over all the peoples.”

“Just because you don’t want to believe a thing doesn’t make it untrue,” Pallisur said. But even if she did believe him, she’d never truly understand the reality of it. She’d been born long after The People had overthrown their oppressors.

The Chosar hadn’t been intended as slaves; they’d originally been created as a symbol of the alliance between the two races. The agility, quickness of mind, and elder magic of the elves; the strength, inventiveness, and arcane magic of the humans. It was the humans and elves who’d named them Chosar, the people.

But then the Second Demon War had begun. Their creators had remembered fear, and they’d sent their children to fight in their place. That had been their undoing. By the end of the war, enough Chosar had been born and trained as soldiers to vastly outnumber the warriors of the other races. After The People had pushed the demons out of their lands, it had been almost easy to continue the process with the humans and elves.

Herasis shook her head. “Even if they once treated us as slaves—seven thousand years ago—you’re the one who doomed the Chosar, Pallis, not them. You caused the Burning, not them.”

“I can bring The People back! I just need the four magics to do it.”

“And I suppose the fact that you’ll gain supreme power has nothing to do with it?” She gave him a look of disdain. “If you’re telling the truth, then we were created using only arcane and elder magic. You could have come to me at any time—or Demesis, or Borrisur, or Irisis—and we could have tried it. Now that the wildstorms are gone, with your help, we could have attempted to reverse the changes we made. But you didn’t come to us because that’s not what you truly want. You want to rule over everything.”

He scowled. Why did she constantly question things she knew nothing about? “The ancient knowledge is lost,” he said. “It would take millennia to recover the old methods. With the four magics, I can bring our people back! Our people, Hera! Not scattered creatures who look like us yet know nothing of our ways.”

She shook her head. “Even if I believed you, the Chosar had our chance and we failed—because of you, and our own hubris. Our blood is scattered to the winds. Take pride in our children; don’t dwell on our failures.”

“You haven’t won yet, Hera.”

She stared at him pitilessly. “You’re no longer my biggest concern. We’ve got another problem. Rusol fought Leonis head on. That shouldn’t have been possible. Someone granted him divine power. I don’t recognize the aura—it’s not one of us. There’s now a mortal wielding three of the four magics.”

“He’s your mortal,” Pallisur said coldly, hiding his sudden burst of fear. Rusol hadn’t ascended and shouldn’t be able to merge the magics together, but he was a warden. Who knew what was possible? “This is what you wanted.”

“Not like this. And I certainly didn’t intend to lose my pawn to an unknown opponent. Someone is interfering. Who can grant divine blessings, besides one of us? A demon lord must have ascended somehow.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Then you explain it!” she snapped.

“That’s not my responsibility,” he said. “It’s yours. You messed up again. You clean it up.”

And while Hera was busy with that problem, Pallisur could develop a new plan. She thought he’d been defeated, but she was wrong. If a mortal wielded three magics, it was time to break the rules, which meant Leonis was no longer necessary. After all, even if most of Pallisur’s bondmates had died in the Burning, or during the difficult years that followed, he was still a warden.

#

The hare had been fast, but the wolf was faster. He gorged, eating the whole thing. His hunting had been more successful lately, since he’d met the female of the tree-dwellers, but he still conserved his energy between hunts. It had been nearly three days since he’d last eaten, and now the hare would let him go another three days.

It tasted fine, though it would have been better roasted over a fire.

Roasted?

That was a strange thought. Wolves didn’t cook their food with fire. It was the tree-dweller female who’d offered him cooked meat once. He’d somehow understood the noises she made, which was another strange thing. It had been a long time since he’d understood the noises of the tree-dwellers and the other tall ones. A very long time.

She wouldn’t let him hunt the horses though. They’d been standing right there, yet he hadn’t been allowed to eat even one. How could horses be part of her pack? It was nonsense. But he liked the tree-dweller, so he’d left the horses alone.

No. Horses were a distraction. What had he been thinking about? Cooking. Such a very strange thought.

Thinking about strange thoughts was an odd thing for a wolf to do. Of course, thinking about things a wolf might find odd was also an odd thing for a wolf to do.

His mind was going in circles. Strange thoughts had come to him more often as of late. He felt like he was missing something important. Something about the tree-dweller.

He’d followed her for a time, but why?

No. He hadn’t followed her. He’d followed her potential futures, to discover where she might be.

Potential futures? That wasn’t a wolf thought. That was a …

Wolf jumped to his feet, ignoring the discomfort of his overly full belly. How long had he been like this? How far had he regressed?

He had to find Raven and Bear and Eagle. Owl was dead, murdered by one of the wardens after their insane attempt to sever the bonds that kept the Collision stable, but Wolf had to warn the rest of his brothers about Snake.

To be continued…