The Blue Eye. Ausma Zehanat Khan

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СКАЧАТЬ until Ilea said, “This posturing is tiresome. Need you bolster your egos at the expense of this war?”

      Rukh gave her a lazy smile. “Perhaps we do it in your honor.”

      “Spare me your tribute then. Call the Conference to order.”

      The Black Khan hesitated. When he didn’t speak, it became clear that he didn’t know how to proceed. Daniyar stepped in, raising their linked hands.

      “In the name of the One, the Beneficent, the Merciful, guide us in our efforts. Infuse the spirit of the One in the risen Mage …” He nodded at Rukh to fulfill his portion of the rite.

      “Rukh, the Dark Mage and the Black Khan, Prince of West Khorasan.”

      Daniyar looked next at Ilea.

      “Ilea, the Golden Mage and High Companion of Hira.” The honeyed voice of the Golden Mage wound around the senses of both men.

      “Daniyar, the Silver Mage and Guardian of Candour.”

      With the ritual complete, Daniyar closed his eyes. The others followed his lead. There was an interval of silence. Then he began to feel the flicker of his power. A line of silver fire arrowed up his spine. It spiraled down his arms, a tingling in his fingers that made the hands of the others jerk, although they didn’t let go. Then the ring of the Silver Mage—recovered by the Assassin from the ruins of the loya jirga—became a band of white fire around his finger. Lightning flooded his veins, an incendiary flare that pulsed in an echo of the light from his ring. It spread outward from his jugular vein, thrusting up through his skull, sparking a web inside his mind. His power raged incandescent, until he forced it under control.

      His thoughts shone with new clarity. The warmth that pulsed from his hands to the hands of the other Mages was answered by the Golden Mage. He knew her signature, recognized the golden surge underlined with steely power. It twined with the tendrils of light from his ring, reflecting his power twofold, as lethally honed as a blade, as boundless as the warmth of the sun. But from the Black Khan there was no pulse of energy beyond the strength of his grip. The magic that leapt from Daniyar’s hand to Ilea’s couldn’t complete its circuit. Their power was mutually reinforced, but there was nothing else beyond it.

      He opened his eyes to study the Black Khan, to find Ilea frowning at Rukh.

      The Black Khan’s eyes were fixed on the petals floating in the copper bowl. His hands were tightly clenched on theirs, his jaw a harsh line, his brows lowered in furious concentration, as if by simply willing it, the power of the Dark Mage would rise.

      A litany fell from his lips.

       “In the name of the One, the Beneficent, the Merciful.”

      His gaze moved from the copper bowl to the light that pulsed from Daniyar’s ring. Then to Ilea’s diadem now ablaze in sheets of gold. He pulled his hand from Daniyar’s, studying the ring on his own finger—an onyx-carved rook on silver to mirror the emblem at his throat.

      “Perhaps this is the wrong token. There is no such thing as dark light.”

      The others dropped their hands. A hush fell over the room painted in flickers of candlelight.

      Ilea’s response was unsparing. “Those who attempt the dark rites should expect their powers to be tainted.”

      A black scowl from Rukh in response. “How did you hear of the attempt? Neither Arsalan nor Arian would have told you.”

      “Do you still not understand how the power works?” A haughty tilt of her head. “I felt the ripples of it through the continuity of our magic. Just as the Silver Mage would have.”

      Daniyar shook his head, dark hair brushing his nape. “I was fighting for my life. When I was brought back to the walls by the Assassin’s men, the One-Eyed Preacher’s thunder served to uproot my magic.”

      Something moved behind Rukh’s eyes. Not uncertainty. Perhaps the regret that his attempt to use Arian’s blood in the blood-rites had stripped him of his abilities.

      “You reclaimed your power,” he said to Daniyar. “I felt its pulse in my veins. Why can I not feel my own?”

      Daniyar edged back from the table. “This is your first attempt. Give yourself more time.”

      Rukh swore to himself. “What time do you think I have? They’re battering the Zhayedan Gate. Soon the Talisman will move east. If we lose the gates, we lose the city.” He made a swift calculation. “How far does your power extend—the Golden Mage and Silver Mage in concert?”

      But Daniyar was shaking his head. “Not far enough to hold the city.”

      Rukh turned to Ilea. “What of the Bloodprint, then? You read from it. You copied a verse you said would serve to defend the Citadel. Use it here, first.”

      There was no softness in the golden eyes that dwelt upon Rukh’s face, nor any of the indulgence of a former lover. Her gaze was mesmerizing … predatory. The skin over Rukh’s cheekbones tightened in response. But she ignored his request, speaking to the Silver Mage.

      “The only thing that will aid you is the dawn rite. You know it as well as I do. Arian taught you the verse.” It was a signal to Rukh, as well.

      Rukh threw back his chair, striding across the room to throw open a pair of windows. A thousand watchfires rose against the darkness, showing them the depth of the Talisman’s forces.

      “You think a single verse will hold the Emissary Gate.”

      Daniyar came to stand beside him, his gaze picking out the bloodstained flags dotted about the camp.

      “Five verses. Each backed by the power of this Conference.”

      Rukh’s hands balled into fists. “I cannot summon it.”

      And he wondered then if the Conference of the Mages had failed because each of the Mages was an enemy to the others.

      “You have yet to try.” Daniyar motioned to Ilea. “High Companion.”

      She moved to join them, her eyes on the Talisman advance. “They will devour everything in their path, if you do not stop them here. You should have forced the First Oralist to stay. The Codex—if it exists—will not deliver you in time.”

      Rukh left aside the fact that the only person in the room with the power to command the First Oralist had chosen to disavow her, expelling her from the sisterhood of the Council of Hira.

      “What. Of. The Bloodprint.” He ground out the words through his teeth. “You studied it. Your knowledge could deliver us!”

      Ilea held up both hands, the ends of her sleeves belling out. With a cutting smile at Rukh, she said, “Your search for easy answers will not avail you, but I will give you what you seek. If only to show you a truth the Council of Hira has long known.”

      Eagerly, the Black Khan stepped forward.

      “Tell me your truths after you have offered your benediction to my city.”

      “Very well.” She turned away from him, calling СКАЧАТЬ