To most of them his face was a truly ugly thing, more akin to a spider with a black hairless carapace, legs and mandibles all, while sitting atop the shoulders of a humanoid body. “Please remove your hoods. Today is the unmasking. Many of you know who each other are, but while we must still remain secret in public for a while longer, from today forward there will be no secrecy allowed within this room.”

  Grumbled complaints filled the room. Some lowered their hoods almost immediately; others took a good minute before finally giving into the gaze directed at them from Seimion, who continued, “The plans of the Master have been underway for many years. There have been setbacks and failures of some who used to claim membership in this august council, but now things will begin to move faster.”

  He paused before looking around again. “As you know, the council has traditionally always been twelve members. Two from each of the more populous human nations, one from each of the elven, dwarven, orc, minotaur, and centaur nations. Yet we have been short a member for a while, and many of you perhaps wonder why there have always been thirteen seats at a U-shaped table.”

  Gustov, a leader amongst the various guilds of Albia, scoffed, “Schhush, if you need help with seating arrangements, I can point out a good maid for you.”

  Seimion stared back at him without saying a word. All the while, the others all wondered what suicidal wish the man had. Then as if appearing from thin air, a man stepped out from behind Seimion, a big man in armor with the boar of his house across his chest.

  “Let me introduce the twelfth member of our council and your counterpart in Albia, Gustov, Duke Holstein. Perhaps he shall not speak as rashly as you do.”

  “Gustov always was a blowhard, placing too much weight on the work performed by his precious guilds as though we couldn’t train a donkey to do the same things,” Edwin said.

  The atmosphere got even more tense as the two Albians stared at each other before Gustov said, “You don’t dare lay a finger on me. My portion of the plan is too critical.”

  “What, stirring up a bunch of peasants? If need be, I can breach the wall. You are just a convenience, a way of keeping the chaos to a minimum as I take over Konig. Why, with the power that the Master has bestowed upon me, I—” Holstein cut off as Seimion raised a hand.

  “They don’t need to know about that yet. What does need to be addressed is the form of this table. It is not set by happenstance. The seat I sit in now, I only keep warm for its one true occupant, our master. I sit here by virtue of my role as his prophet here in Talos. From this seat, just as the shape of the table, all power flows out. There is no one who is indispensable to the plans other than the Master.

  “Even death could not constrain him. Twice he has been betrayed and struck down. Twice he has risen, and now this third time he shall fulfill his grand vision. If you serve well, then you shall be rewarded, but let me assure you that if another one of you speaks in such a manner, it shall be with your last breath. Am I clear?”

  The color had drained out of Gustov as Seimion’s aura filled the room with a sense of dread and overwhelming weight that pressed down upon their minds. He and all the others were quickly nodding their affirmation.

  “Now, tell me, what other news is there to report?” Seimion asked as he sat, and just like that the feeling of dread was lifted.

  Apolashi-nari was the first to speak. She was a centaur from the southern plains and without a doubt the most fervent member of the council. Seimion tolerated her stupidity because she revered Alucien as a god, which was only proper in his mind. “We have begun the work, but it is slow going. It will be years before it causes any appreciable problem, unless you wish for us to go faster. As it is, we are slowly damming up smaller streams, redirecting water flow, poisoning certain water sources, and generally making it more comfortable for the tribes to migrate to the northwest. This is as the Master willed it, or so I understood.”

  “Exactly right, and don’t worry about the timing. That is in the hands of the Master. He does not will that all things should fall at once, but rather, how was it that he put it?” Seimion seemed to be trying to smile, but his face was not conducive to such an expression. “Ah yes, he said the dominos must fall in order.”

  “And what of you, Ajmal? What of your horned kin?”

  The massive minotaur stood as he spoke. “I have arranged it so that more and more quadrians may be sent out as mercenaries. We have dropped their prices to encourage the use. The more that my people see how feeble the other races are, the more the desire for conquest shall rise within their breasts. We are also planting questions in the assemblies of Dikastis. We are raising questions about what the Kodikas teaches about the heathens who refuse to follow the one true god. Give it a few years, but soon my people will be ready to surge forth, goring all who stand in their way for the glory of Dikastis.

  Without waiting to be asked, Berget said, “You already know that Jeancostta and myself have accomplished our task. The armies of Faelora already march on Konig to wrong the slight given to the king’s sister, because Harold got caught with his pants down.”

  Jeancostta laughed and added, “The irony of a man-whore king such as we have in Faelora being offended by such a thing is not lost on the nobles, but they are greedy for more land, and Albia is perceived as being weak now after dealing with the goblin incursions.”

  Seimion turned towards Andolia. “What of Miromar? Will they stay out of this war?”

  “That depends,” Miacusa answered for him. They were the only couple amongst the members of the council, but it worked for them, so Seimion had never done anything about it. “If Princess Gianna should happen to die in the siege of Konig, then it is likely that Miromar would join in the war against Albia.”

  “We don’t want Albia eliminated. Soon, we will have a new king there who is one of us. Or at least a regent,” Seimion said.

  “I doubt you have much to worry about that. The Griffon Guard has been dispatched to bring her home safely. Captain Aremay may be a stick in the mud when it comes to fun, but he is good at his job,” Andolia said.

  Anxious to speak, Ganbold the orc injected at this time, “The orc clans will soon be going to war. The Iron Claw clan seeks to gather them all together under one banner. With the spoils they gained from the recent dwarven raids, I would suggest that it will take them three summers to gain control of all the orcs. Maybe a fourth to consolidate, and then he will take them to war against the dwarves. One other word of caution, Seimion. You are hated and declared an enemy to be killed on sight by the clan First. Even I and the other priests of Bal Zar will not be able to help you.”

  “Pffh, his threats are of little concern. I won’t need to go there as long as you can. Just remember that you must keep them pointed at the dwarves. We can’t have them deciding to go south for softer pastures.”

  “Oh, me people are fixin’ for a fight. Not to worry there. Them green skins will get what is coming to them when they come north next.” Fergus was practically shouting as he devolved into racial hatred of orcs and forgetting where he was.

  Seimion was not so forgetful as a bolt of black lightning erupted from a wand he carried and lashed out at both orc and dwarf alike. “Silence. We are all here for the glory of the Master. Remember, you are no longer human, elf, dwarf, orc, or any other race. You are sworn to the Cult of Alucien, and only with his success will you rise.”

  The two who were struck crumpled into their chairs as the very strength within their limbs was stolen from them. The rest simply nodded till Seimion continued, “Remember, this is not about your petty rivalries. The purpose of causing war between the orcs and the dwarves is to allow an opportunity to sneak in and wake she who sleeps in the north.”

  “Master Seimion, are we to understand that you truly believe in the legends of a great dragon who slumbers in chains in the far north?” Talorri asked.

  The spiderkin turned the gaze of his many eyes upon the sun elf. “I believe, because the Master says it is so. He knew the dragon before the purge. While they were not allies, he believes that she would not be happy with what has become of Talos while she slept or the children of those who bound her.”

  “Even if the legends are true, and I’m sure the Master must be correct,” Aerith said, quickly adding the second part, “How will one dragon make any difference? We have faced many dragons in the Murkwood over the centuries.”

  Seimion’s high-pitched laughter echoed throughout the room. “Oh, child, you have never faced a dragon before. Those little lizards you call forest drakes are not true dragons. They are to a dragon what a kitten is to a lion. Not only that, but she was Tier 7 when she accompanied the ones who were purged.”

  Again whispers went around the room. “Isn’t that peak tier?” Ajmal finally asked.

  “Yes, level sixty is the highest that any creature may ever reach. Unless one can stride upon the planes of power like the Master, there is no higher level. However, remember, just as not all Tier 2s are the same, so too, not all Tier 7s are the same. Even before the purge, Tier 7s were rare. It represents the pinnacle of mortal achievement. The great destiny that we create for ourselves,” Seimion answered.

  “Which leaves me to ask, Talorri, how go things with the sun elves?”

  The elf smoothed his robes before answering, “Not as well as I would like. I was unable to get myself named as the ambassador, but they have named a child. He is a fool of a mage and more interested in books than people. In many ways I think it is best that he is the ambassador because it leaves me in the capital to keep an eye on things. As best I can tell, the king does not mean for the sun elves to become involved in anything.”

  “Good enough for now. In the future you will have a more active role to play, and what about the moon elves?”

  Aerith answered, “I have set a trap for the Throne. They, as you know, have been trying to hunt down agents of the council. I have arranged for them to meet a supposed agent who has a curse that will either kill them or at a minimum put a proper level of fear into them. I have also managed to keep Yua from committing any significant level of help to Eris’ Rise when it is attacked in a few short weeks.”

  “Keep us informed about what comes of this. Now, I have some instructions that many of you may not like. They come directly from the Master. Know this, I do not fully understand them either, but I will kill any of you without hesitation if you fail to obey the Master in this. He has made it clear to me that, in his mind, this command is of equal importance with the plan to overthrow the governments of Talos.”

  If everyone hadn’t been paying attention, they were all ears now. “The Master has made it clear that all efforts are to be made to recruit the Nelsons—specifically Baron Nelson and his heir, Jackson, who is a student at the Albian Royal Academy.” Seimion turned to look at Holstein. “This means that all attempts to assassinate or slay them are to be stopped immediately, and don’t think that I don’t know what you tried at the academy or who your agent is there.”

  All around the rooms were echoes of what or why as various protests were raised.

  “Silence,” Seimion called out and then enforced it with a spell. He dropped a magical effect that cut out the sounds from everyone who tried to speak other than the one at the head of the table. It was an enchantment woven into the very table and easily activated by him. It was similar to the effect in the Albian throne room, but this had an added effect.

  Each individual in the room began to claw at their throats as they felt like invisible and intangible fingers were squeezing their windpipes shut. Seimion began again, “Listen very carefully because if you interrupt me again, I won’t lift this enchantment. Some of you may survive it but certainly not all of you. I do not know the Master’s reasons. He says he sees potential in them. It is not for me to ask him why. It is my place to obey. But you need to know this, if David Nelson agrees to bend his knee to the Master, then he will be raised above all of us. You will all serve him, and that will be the way of things.”

  Seimion paused then, as he saw some of those who were less hardy or were without the proper magical defenses starting to turn red with bulging eyes. “I do not have to like this order and neither do you. But you will obey, or I will make this seem like the most pleasant moment of your life.”

  He didn’t ask for their understanding or acquiescence. It was a given that they would obey. So with a flick of his wrist, he ended the enchantment. “Now, let’s discuss how to make the siege and transition of Konig go as smoothly as possible.”

  Yua and Konoe were collectively the rulers of the moon elves known as the Throne. They were not technically king and queen but rather the joint holders of the head position within the Circle. The Circle was the concept that all moon elves were family. They were one people, endless in their lives as generation after generation continued.

  They took this position very seriously and didn’t see the people as existing for their benefit. Oh, of course they were owed respect for their position, and they hoped admiration for their actions, perhaps even a type of affection. But that wasn’t the key to their positions. The key in their minds was the duty that was incumbent upon them to care for their people.

  Many of those duties were obvious, such as dealing with the goblin invasion. It had been turned back and was now aimed at the southern district of their lands ruled by the newest Lady of the Circle, Emiri. The majority of their people were safe, and many others did not consider Eris’ Rise with its mingled population to be a true district of the people.

  Konoe and especially Yua did not feel that way. However, they had greater concerns. The goblins could never have mounted such an undertaking, not even with a once-in-a-century warlord such as Thelan the Basher. Their spymaster had uncovered something many years ago, and this all seemed to point back to it.

  It was a clandestine organization that existed in the shadow of shadows. They weren’t even sure what its name was. Yet the longer they looked into it, the more resources they applied to the problem, the more certain they became. Now their spymaster had disappeared. It was not outside the realm of possibility that he was simply operating in the field. He had a high degree of independence.

  Now one of the younger agents was being sent to report to them directly about information gathered far to the south. She had apparently learned something about the source of the attacks in Konig. The rumors so far were that there were fiends in the sewers, but now they were hoping to get more direct information.

  Naat’ha Aremay was not just a captain of the Miromaran army. He was not just the leader of their most esteemed military unit. He was the king’s confidant and essentially held the most elevated role a commoner could hold in Miromar. In many ways he was the unofficial godfather of Gianna and her two younger siblings.

  Even if the king had not asked, he would have been happy to come to Albia and check up on his favorite princess. Gianna had a wild streak in her that reminded him of himself. It was perhaps acceptable for a young soldier to be wild, but not so much for a princess. Not that women had to be quiet and act behind the scenes. That sort of nonsense from the Albians made his head hurt. Who would want a woman with no zest for life?

  No, it was that she would be the queen someday. Her decisions couldn’t afford to be reckless or controlled by emotion. The good of an entire nation rested on her decisions. So when she approached her parents about attending the academy in Albia, it was his encouragement that nudged the king into allowing her to go.

  When he first came to visit her a few days ago, he did so quietly. He reported to the castle like any good foreign military officer would do, but the king had been too busy to even acknowledge his arrival. So be it, he wasn’t here for some diplomatic mission, but rather to check up on the princess and rumors about her attachment to a certain young noble son.

  “Events are moving faster than anticipated, my king,” pronounced the tall mage. He was the youngest master mage that his people, the sun elves, had produced in a thousand years at a mere 112. Yet he was not comfortable being in the throne room. He was more accustomed to reading spell books and treatises by mage light.

  “That is always the case with humans, as you will learn, Master Jaems,” replied Zhunammasi, the sovereign of all sun elves on Talos for nearly three hundred years. “You have been too caught up in your studies to note the changing of the world around us.”

  Niko frowned. He didn’t want to feel like he had let his kingdom down. As he took a moment to ponder the king’s words, he realized that wasn’t what was being said. It was only a matter of realizing that his new responsibilities would require him to grow and change. “I will take that reminder to heart, my king.”

  “Are you ready, then? I know it is sooner than you would like, but I have learned over the years that you magi prefer to study everything from afar. We don’t have that luxury now. The seers have pointed out that there are events in motion that will affect all of Talos. Only a few years remain to prepare ourselves.”

  “I will serve as my king orders,” Niko said.

  “Very well, then repeat to us all one last time your orders and then make it so.” The king spoke with the tone of one long accustomed to giving orders and equally accustomed to having to follow up on those orders.

  “I am to forge alliances with our shadow brothers as well as any of the human nations that are willing. And I am to seek the signs of this disturbance that the seers have found. We only know that it is located to the north, but not yet what it is.”

  The king stood now, which prompted Niko to bow, hands folded across the floor. “Remember that when you leave from this place, you are my eyes, you are my hands, and you are my voice. You speak with my authority in dealing with others. This is a great weight. Do not bring shame to my name or that of your people.”

  “I will not fail you, my king.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five