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As the battle raged all around him, Traax tried to collect himself and decide what to do. His forces were dwindling, while the enemy seemed to keep coming and coming. If this kept up for very much longer, his army would be obliterated.
His blood boiling, he looked up at the imperious Black Ship. More azure bolts rained down. Wulfgar would have to wait, he realized. He looked back at Ancaeus and nodded.
"Sound the retreat!" he shouted. "We fly for home! But if they follow and we ca
Ancaeus grabbed the battle bugle hanging around his neck and blew the retreat. Other buglers took up the call. Traax gnashed his teeth and turned for home. One by one, his bloodied warriors reluctantly broke off their fighting to follow him.
Looking down from the deck of the Black Ship, Cathmore smiled. He turned toward Wulfgar.
"They are in retreat, my lord," he said. "Shall I order the K'tons to pursue them?"
Wulfgar shook his head. "The Minions are of little importance now," he said. "We fought them this night only because we were forced to. We need to travel farther, so that I might call forth the orb before my dear half brother has a chance to intervene. When my business with the orb is concluded, we shall sail on to Tammerland, and the K'tons can gorge themselves on as many Minions and soft-fleshed civilians as they wish. Make our course south-southeast," he ordered. "I have unfinished business with the craft."
CHAPTER LXXXI
Tristan slowly opened his eyes. as his vision cleared he realized that he was still in the Well of Forestallments, but he had been moved to another area of the massive room. The Scroll Master hovered by his side.
Tristan shook his head. The chamber was even larger than he had first imagined. The huge distances covered by the bookcases made the angles between them so slight that he hadn't realized that the room was actually a great circle, as was the Abyss of Lost Souls. Like the hallways of the Redoubt, the cases were laid out like the spokes of a wagon wheel, with Tristan and the boy now standing at the hub.
"We are finally at the center of the Well of Forestallments," the boy said. "I used the craft to transport us here, because if we had walked, it would have taken several days. This is where I shall endeavor to change your blood back to red, should you still wish to endure the process. But before we begin, there is something else you must know."
"And what is that?" Tristan asked. He was desperately impatient to get on with it and hurry back to Celeste.
The Scroll Master raised one arm. "Behold," he said.
The glow of the craft appeared in the center of the circle. It slowly grew brighter and denser, then abruptly vanished, to reveal a shimmering, pure white marble altar.
Tristan shuddered. It was very much like the altar upon which Succiu had raped him and imbued his blood with Forestallments. Taking a deep breath, he did his best to push away the awful memories.
"What is it?" he asked. "Why is it here?"
"I told you that the Scrolls of the Ancients hold the spells for nearly every Forestallment in creation," the boy said.
"Yes."
The boy ran one hand lovingly over its polished surface, then looked back at Tristan.
"This structure contains the rest of them," he said, "those that are not contained in the Scroll of the Vigors. They are the most powerful of all Forestallments. Only the descendants of Queen Morga
"One of them must be the ability to summon the orbs and to move them about at will," Tristan mused. "But what is the other?"
"The second Forestallment allows him to commune with the Heretics," the boy answered. "This has been of great advantage to him as he has pursued his most recent plans."
"These potent spells of the Vigors were placed here in safekeeping by the Ones, in hope that their Jin'Sais and Jin'Saious would find me and make use of them. They considered these spells too valuable and powerful to be loosed upon the world, but the Heretics did not. The Heretics believe that chaos, not compassion, is the overriding principle of the craft. They placed all of their spells into the Scroll of the Vagaries, regardless of how powerful or destructive they might be. That scroll remains in Wulfgar's possession. Once identified, any number of Forestallment calculations may be imbued in his blood by his consuls. If you are successful in stopping the Enseterat, your next duty must be to recover the other scroll for the good of mankind. Our world will depend upon it."
"But Wigg and Faegan can also summon the orbs," Tristan countered. "And neither of them has visited this place before today. How can that be?"
"Your wizards unraveled the necessary calculations themselves," the boy said. "Despite their other errors, this was truly a great accomplishment. The wizard Faegan is particularly adept at such things, especially with his gift of Consummate Recollection. But they still have not deciphered the entire spell. They can call the orbs, but their lesser blood ca
Tristan nodded. Many things that had long puzzled him were begi
"You're going to do more than simply heal my blood, aren't you?" Tristan asked. He looked over at the altar once more. "You're going to rid me of my present Forestallments-the ones Succiu forced on me. Then you will replace them with others gleaned from within the altar." He looked back at the Scroll Master.
"I'm right, aren't I? And if my present Forestallments do not successfully transfer to these shelves, then my soul shall forever reside in the Abyss."
"Yes," the boy answered. "The Ones have said that it should be so. Still, unlike the Heretics, they also recognize and respect your free will. You have the right to refuse. Without you, your wizards and Minions stand no chance of defeating Wulfgar's forces. And Celeste's blood signature is now all but gone. When it finally vanishes, so shall her time enchantments. You know what that means. But even if successful, the process will invariably take a toll upon your body and your mind-and you may carry these burdens forever.
"And remember that of all the Jin'Sais and Jin'Saious who have walked the earth, only you possess azure blood. What I shall attempt in your name has never been done before. The chances of failure are very high."
He looked at Tristan. "It is time to decide, Jin'Sai."
"There is no decision to be made," Tristan said harshly. "This is one of the reasons I was placed upon the earth. We have to go forward. Our world requires it, no matter what happens to me." Pausing for a moment, he took a deep breath. "Do what you must," he said.
"Very well."
The boy pointed at the altar. A thin beam of light shot from his hand to strike its top. The boy moved his hand slowly. As he did, the beam of light cut a long, narrow slit in the marble. The light slowly vanished, and the boy lowered his hand.
Tristan heard a scratching noise. What looked like a sheet of transparent azure glass rose from the slit. Hundreds of Old Eutracian words and symbols were finely etched into its surface. It was immensely beautiful as it twinkled in the light.
"This glass tapestry holds the Forestallments meant only for the Jin'Sai and Jin'Saiou," the boy said. "I am not at liberty to tell you which of them will be granted to you until your blood has been healed. But what I can tell you is that one of them is the formula required to change your blood back to red, so that you may finally be trained in the ways of the craft, wear the Paragon, and read the Tome." Looking back over at the altar, the boy paused for a moment.