Movement caught her peripheral vision, and when she looked up, she gasped. Like an echo of the images in the water, the mist around the clearing uncoiled and undulated, creating phantom figures and buildings, and even a courtyard fountain. The images were without definition or sharp edges, and wavered and billowed as natural breezes carried the mist away. She heard distant chiming voices and she had the sense of being within the courtyard, of being caught in another place and time, or maybe in a dream.
“Argenthyne,” Prince Jametari whispered, shaking his head. “Lost Argenthyne. Mornhavon and his legions took it, a blow from which we shall never recover.”
The eagle above the water wheeled away and dissipated into the night. The bright city muted and tarnished. Vegetation choked the fountains, which became foul and sludgy. Thorny vines grew over and entangled the gardens, and spires crumbled and toppled. Laurelyn’s castle faded from sight.
The mist around them turned leaden, and the fair figures and images melted away, replaced by crooked branches that rattled like old knucklebones. Karigan shrank away as they loomed above her as blackened skeleton hands, ready to grasp her. At the last moment, they lost form and drifted away.
The vision of the city floating above the Mirror of the Moon vanished completely, leaving only the placid bowl of water.
At the loss of such beauty, a tear ran down Karigan’s cheek and hung from the end of her chin. The prince reached over and caught it in his palm before it could sully the Mirror of the Moon. The teardrop looked like a pearl in his hand.
“A great sorrow the loss of Argenthyne has been to us,” he said. “One among many. There is hope, however, that there is some goodness left there, even in the heart of Kanmorhan Vane. Maybe some of that goodness leavens the dark that taints the wild magic now leaking through the wall.”
“The wild magic is leaking through the wall . . .”
“Yes. You are aware of unusual events happening in the lands?”
She nodded.
“It is wild magic. I believe the awakening of dark powers on the other side of the wall has stirred the wild magic. You cannot expect an influx of pent-up magic not to have an effect in a world that has found its balance over a thousand years with very little.”
It explained much, about what was happening to the abilities of the Riders, and everything else.
“War has ravaged us,” the prince said, “and the loss of magic may finish us. And then there is you, Galadheon.”
He reached over and touched the scar on her shoulder where Grae had slashed her sleeve. She jerked away, startled by the sudden contact, startled by the energy, the power, that coursed through her. Something recoiled inside her.
“Do you know what this scar resulted from?” he asked.
“I was attacked by—” She swallowed. “I was attacked by your son. With wild magic.”
Prince Jametari nodded. “Tainted wild magic, which now resides within you.”
“How do you know?” Karigan demanded. “I’m no different than I ever was. It didn’t stay in me.”
Prince Jametari tilted his head and it was plain he believed otherwise. “How is it, then, that you have surpassed the layers of the world to visit the past?” He searched her with his gaze, seeking the very depths of her soul. “You are one who journeys far, following roads that are impassable to all but a few.”
“I don’t know how it happens. The wild magic—not in me, but . . .” She felt feverish, wanting to disbelieve she’d been carrying tainted magic within herself for all this time. It made her feel unclean, like a poisonous serpent was hiding within her.
The prince watched her struggle with the concept before continuing. “The wild magic augments the slight ability you embody, in a way your brooch never could by itself. Alone, your brooch helps you to fade to the gray barriers of this world. Augmented by wild magic, it allows you to transcend the gray barriers into other layers.”
Karigan clenched her hands. “I don’t want this! I—” She looked about helplessly, knowing the prince must speak the truth, but not wanting to believe it. He gazed back at her unsympathetically. “How do I get rid of it? Can you help me?”
“It cannot be done.”
Karigan’s heart plummeted. The wild magic had mostly lain dormant, hadn’t it? Was it only now becoming apparent because of the stirring on the other side of the wall? Had the same impulse that affected the other Riders awakened the wild magic within her?
“There is still more to be spoken of,” the prince said, “and time grows short.” He paused to see if she was ready, and then proceeded. “My people wonder what would happen should the D’Yer Wall fail completely, releasing all that power. Some hold it would bring ruin to all that lives; that the darkness of Kanmorhan Vane will rule this side of the world as well. Already it has aroused those who should never walk beneath the moon.”
“The wraith—Varadgrim.” Karigan shuddered with memory.
“Yes. And others. It is believed by those who envision this outcome that the Eletian people have not the strength to withstand an onslaught of tainted wild magic, and shall perish.
“There are others who hold that the wall’s failure shall bring magic back into the world and restore the greatness of the Eletian people. They do not believe all the magic is tainted, and if the wall fails, the onrush of magic will cleanse Everanen, as a flood will cleanse a river valley and make it rich again. The Eletians will once again dominate a world now in the hands of mortalkind.”