Magda paused, struck by those words.
They were close to the same words in the note.
Be strong now, guard your mind . . .
She wondered if that could possibly be what Baraccus had meant. She wondered if he had been trying to tell her about the dream walkers. But how could that have been what he meant?
She felt an icy sense of unease as she remembered, then, the whispers in her mind urging her to jump off the wall.
Was it possible?
Dread welled up inside her. “What do people have to do to be protected? What solution have you created?”
“With the spell I forged, the spell that is now part of my being, I’m immune to dream walkers entering my mind. But like I said, I can’t create that same counter within other people. I tried, but it isn’t possible. So I instead created a way to link others to my protective magic. That link shields them from dream walkers entering their mind the same as I am protected.”
“Are you sure? How is such a thing even possible?”
“Everyone, even those like you who are ungifted, has a spark of the gift within them. That living spark enables everyone to interact with magic, even if they can’t create it themselves. Through that flicker of the gift, anyone who accepts me as their ruler becomes my subject and they are thus linked to me. We become bonded. Them to me, and me to them. I become their magic against magic”—he gestured toward the two men watching from their position at the door—“and they in turn protect me.”
Magda blinked. “Do you mean to say that to be protected from dream walkers, people must swear loyalty to you?”
“Yes and no. Sincere belief in my sovereignty over them is actually the link that powers the bond. In reality that’s all that’s needed. Swearing loyalty, though, helps a lot of hesitant minds fully commit.”
“How can simply swearing loyalty possibly accomplish such a thing as powering this link to your ability?”
“It’s not the swearing of loyalty that’s the real secret of it. It’s the realization—the conviction—that they are my subjects and I their sovereign ruler that actually powers the spark of their gift to link to my magic. It has to be sincere in order to connect them with the spell I carry within me. They don’t have to like it, but they have to accept the fact that I am their ruler.”
“I just don’t understand—”
“That’s always the problem, and we don’t have time to try to make people understand the nuanced intricacies of conjured links to constructed spells.” He gestured irritably. “It’s complicated and hard to explain to people, even the gifted, even wizards. Fortunately, I’ve found that an oath serves to bring about acceptance, ignites the link, and forges the bond.”
“An oath?”
“Yes. All that is really necessary for the bond to work is the person’s solemn acceptance of my authority over them. But, like I say, the oath is a great deal simpler and works in most cases. It’s nearly infallible if fear is a component—fear of dream walkers, or even fear of me. Fear triggers need, need powers sincerity. Sincerity is the required element.
“Once established, the bond becomes a kind of conduit, through the spark of the gift, that draws upon the constructed protection I have within me to protect them as well. I worked long and hard to create an oath that fires the forge of that living link within the supplicant.”
Magda stared up at the man. “And what is this oath?”
“To be protected, people must swear as follows. Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.”
Magda was stunned. “And you expect people to swear this oath to you?”
“I’m trying to save their lives, Magda.” He gestured dismissively. “But calling it an oath does motivate some people to refuse, so I instead call it a devotion. Softens it a bit. I find that it works with near certitude if it is delivered from a kneeling position, bent forward at the waist, forehead to the floor. Something about kneeling and swearing loyalty helps build fear and makes it real to the supplicant.”
No wonder the council had rejected Lord Rahl’s plan.
He was asking them to help him rule the entire New World.
Chapter 12
From the things her husband had told her in the past and from what she had learned from Alric Rahl, Magda was coming to fully grasp the mortal danger they were in. It was only a matter of time until the dream walkers learned to use their abilities to find their way into the minds of those in the Wizard’s Keep. If something wasn’t done to protect people, such an event would be the beginning of the end.
Not only was the Keep the seat of power in the Midlands, it was in many ways also its heart and soul. The council lived and worked there, but so did representatives from various lands along with military officers, administrators, and officials of every sort. Perhaps even more important, while vast armies along with gifted support clashed in the field, some of their most brilliant wizards lived at the Keep, working on everything from counters to the weapons being created in the Old World to new weapons of their own.
Those gifted down in the lower reaches of the Keep worked day and night, many in secret, on things that Baraccus rarely talked about. Magda remembered Tilly’s chilling gossip about some of the projects. While Magda didn’t necessarily believe everything Tilly said, she knew that it likely wasn’t far off the mark.
If the council didn’t go along with Alric Rahl’s plan, and the gifted didn’t come up with a counter of their own, the New World would be lost.
But on the other hand, it meant making Alric Rahl more than a mere king. It meant making him the ruler of the entire New World. It meant allowing him to create an empire and make himself its ruler.
Even if Magda could influence the council, would she want to be a part of such a thing? Would Baraccus have wanted her to?
She remembered, then, being up on the wall earlier that same day, seemingly in a fog, preparing to throw herself to her death. Even though it had only been hours ago, it was beginn
ing to feel more like a dream in the dim past.
Had she really been serious? Had she really, in her heart, wanted to die? To kill herself? Of course she was still heartbroken and the future still seemed bleak, but not in quite the same way.
She remembered the whispers urging her to jump.
Was it possible?
If it was true . . .
Her mouth felt as dry as dust.
“I see what you mean, Lord Rahl.” Magda laced her fingers together as she paced off a few steps, trying to come to grips with the enormity of everything that had happened. In the last few days her life had been turned upside down. Everything had changed. Despite the uncertainty of the war, her husband had been her security. Now, there was no more security. Now, she had only herself to rely on.
“Then you must act,” Alric Rahl said. “You must do your best to convince the council to help me protect the Midlands from the dream walkers.”
Magda, staring off into the dark end of the room where the glow of the candlelight hardly penetrated, finally turned back. She looked up at his grim concern.
“You’re right. I don’t know if I can convince them to listen to me, but I have to try. I must find a way to get the council to go along. We have truth on our side. Maybe I can make them see that and make them see that they must act for the good of us all.”
He let out a deep sigh as he nodded. “Thank you, Magda. Let us hope that you can convince the council. It may be our only chance.”
But then pain slammed into her so abruptly, so unexpectedly, so violently that it took her breath.
Magda’s muscles locked stiff as the searing pain ignited in her head. It felt as if half a dozen hot needles were all at the same time being thrust into her ears, through her temples, and up into the base of her skull.
A razor-sharp spike of pain lanced into the nerves just below her ears as if yet more of the searing-hot needles were being thrust in right behind her jaw on either side. Her eyes watered and her mouth opened wide, but she couldn’t make a scream. She couldn’t draw a breath. The weight of the terrible agony locked her muscles rigid.