The Wizardwar

Basel's brows rose. "I wish it were that easy! A jordain's lineage is not exactly common knowledge."

"Mine will not be spoken of lightly," Matteo said, holding onto patience with difficulty. "If you like, I will swear an oath to tell no one you are my father, but for the love of Mystra, let's get on with it!"

He wasn't prepared for the dumbfounded expression that flooded Basel's plump face. Matteo's heart plummeted as he realized his error.

"I see that I misspoke," the jordain said slowly. "Tzigone's most heartfelt quest was her search for family. She found my mother, so I assumed she took her apprenticeship with you because you were either her father or mine. It is known that your wife and child passed away in childbirth. That is often said of jordaini births. I thought-indeed, I hoped..." His voice trailed off into uncomfortable silence.

The conjurer gathered the shreds of his composure. "My wife did indeed bear a jordaini child, but the babe was a stillborn girl."

"You're certain of this?"

Basel's gaze was bleak but steady. "Beyond doubt. I refused to leave the room when the greenmage delivered the child. I held my daughter in my arms. With my own hands I lit her pyre. I am not your father, Matteo. Believe me, I would claim you if I could."

"And I you," the jordain said softly, "but let's speak of the world as it is, not as we wish it to be. I've learned that searching for a jordain's mother is not only futile, but harmful. We must focus upon my paternity. Tzigone told me my father was one of the masters at the Jordaini College."

"How did she find that out?" Themo demanded, looking both aghast and intrigued by this notion. This was not something jordaini discussed or pondered-such knowledge was considered beyond retrieval.

"She got into the birth records kept in the queen's palace."

"There you go. You're the king's counselor."

Matteo shook his head. "I don't have Tzigone's skill at evading locks and wards, and the legal pathways to such knowledge are long and convoluted."

"There's another possibility," Basel said. "During my years as a jordaini master, I learned of a hidden book listing the jordaini ancestry."

"I have seen it," Andris said flatly.

Matteo brightened. "Did you read of my ancestry?"

The ghostly jordaini hesitated. "Mine was bad enough. Gods only know what swamp you sprang from." He punctuated his half-hearted jest with an equally wan smile.

"That is an evasion, not an answer," Matteo observed.

"With reason," his friend said softly. 'Truths of this nature provide a dark mirror. I have learned that where family is concerned, each man must face his own reflection."

At that moment the clouds parted, and a wash of color swept over the rocky ground. Matteo glanced up. An enormous flying ship glided through the dissipating clouds, seemingly sped by the winged elves painted upon ship and sail. Sunlight filtered through bright, silken sails.

Basel's crew brought the skyship daringly close to the clearing. A rope ladder tumbled down. The wizard scampered up, amazingly nimble, and within moments a makeshift sling was lowered to raise the injured Themo. Matteo and Andris saw Iago's body aboard, then they climbed onto the skyship's deck.

They stood together by the rail, watching as the Nath fell swiftly away.

"It is fitting that Iago's ashes be scattered on jordaini land," Matteo commented as the skyship set course for southwestern Halruaa. "At least one aspect of this trip will end as it should."

"I'd reserve judgment until we learn what new thing has gone awry," murmured Andris as he nodded toward Basel. The wizard strode toward them, one hand steadying the large seabird perched upon his shoulder. His face was grim, and his eyes burned with wrath as well as something that might have been unshed tears.

"You should hear this," he said abruptly.

The wizard plucked a small feather from the bird and blew it from his palm. Immediately the feather dissolved into milky haze. Basel spoke an arcane phrase in Loross, the ancient language of Netheril and Halruaa, and the mist swiftly reformed into the shape of a stocky young wizard, a powerful looking man with muscles of the sort built by hours of labor.

The apparition bowed. "My pardon for this intrusion, Lord Basel, but I have grave news."

"This is Mason, one of my apprentices," the wizard interjected softly.

"I am sending this messenger from your tower in the king's city, for I ca

"I am i

The ghostly image broke off and passed a hand wearily over his face. "Please don't return on my behalf," he said in a softer voice. "Farrah is gone, and in deference to your position, I am allowed to remain under house arrest in your tower until you have time to address this matter. Tzigone needs your best efforts. The rest can wait."

His shoulder squared. "I suspect you will wish to carry the news to Lord Noor yourself. I should warn you that he is unlikely to believe in my i

Mason's voice broke, and the image disappeared like a bursting soap bubble. The seabird leaped from Basel's shoulder and winged off toward the south.

Basel watched the avian messenger until it disappeared into the clouds. "I'll travel with you as far as the Noor estates," he said without looking back at the silent jordaini. "Their daughter was murdered while in my care." He started to say more, then shook his head and strode quickly away.

"Your friend Tzigone was their fellow apprentice. She seems to be near the center of every tangle we encounter," Andris pointed out.

"I've noticed that," Matteo said in a dry tone. "In Tzigone's defense, however, she does not create all the chaos that surrounds her. From the day we met, Kiva has never been more than two steps behind. I would be surprised if this murder proves to be an exception."

Andris abruptly turned his gaze on the landscape below. Recognizing his friend's need for silence and privacy, Matteo followed suit.

The rugged Nath was an unpleasant memory, and the fields and forests spread out beneath them were lush and green. Matteo leaned on the ship's rail, gazing down over his Halruaa with the fond eyes of a babe for its mother or a lover his lass.

The Noor estates bordered the Swamp of Akhlaur. A faint cloud misted the forest canopy like a net of delicate silver filigree crowning a wild elf’s hair, or perhaps a cu

By late afternoon, the sweeping lands surrounding the Jordaini College came into view, and far beyond, a slim line of blue and silver sea. The skyship settled down upon a lake at the northern border of the jordaini estate. While Andris set about making Iago's funeral arrangements and summoning healers to care for Themo, Matteo went to the stables and selected a horse for the ride to the college.