"Where is the grid?" I asked Tomas. "There's so little magic."
"Be fair. There aren't many mages left in Moria," said Tomas.
"But the priests and the monks should show up. And surely the Burning Light still accepts priest-mages. They told the Prince's Council they were maintaining the grid."
"And they aren't?"
"Well look at this."
I changed my direction and showed Tomas how a properly protected country should look. Gallia was a mass of pinpoints of light, but even in the darker areas there were little pinpoints of light at regular intervals. Magical watching posts carefully manned and guarded, that watched always for necromancy. The geography of the Oesteradd peninsula meant it was small and densely populated enough to be thoroughly watched, making it very safe from that terrible, destructive magic. Necromancers use the power of demons to make them powerful and in order to draw this power from the dark hellish plane that demons inhabited, they made regular sacrifices to them. Animals sometimes, but preferably people.
I turned back to Moria. Since Smazor's run when all of eastern Moria had been destroyed, the country had traditionally been divided into three parts, North, South and Central. Since the Revolution of Souls each of these areas was overseen by a leading Burning Light priest known as a Hierarch. These Hierarchs had been members of the original seven man council who had begun the Revolution of Souls, though doctrinal arguments had since reduced their number to five.
All over central Moria were the rosy diffuse lights of priestly magic marking monasteries and churches at regular intervals for as far as my spell could reach.
"But look down here," I said. "Here in the south. This grid is full of holes. Anything could flourish here. What is the Church of the Burning Light thinking of? Stupid fools."
"Well you'll get no argument from most Morians," said Tomas.
"Oh yes?" I said tartly. "And where were they when the mobs where throwing stones at us and the Witch Hunters were manacling and burning us."
"True. But people are beginning to see the error of their ways. Now there are not enough priests to do healing and their children die of small things ... Anyway the South is very strange. They say Hierarch Jarraz has run mad. It's almost impossible not to be charged with blasphemy. People are scared and stay indoors as much as they can. I imagine even priests are nervous about practicing magic there. When I was looking for Tasha I got arrested for vagrancy, and I was in prison two day before they accepted my travel permit."
"You've been south then."
"Aye I set out after Tasha as soon as I got home from my trip. You have to have a travel permit to travel in Moria nowadays and she didn't have one. I went all the way to Beenac to Darmen Stalker's house looking for her. His servants said he would never soil himself with women and tried to arrest me for slander. It's a mad place there I tell you. No sign of Tasha. It was on my way back that the dreams started. By then I'd realized it was too dangerous to look for her in the South without some idea of her location. So can you see her?"
I brought the ritual for magical location to mind and began it. Tomas put the silky lock of hair in my hand. I was surprised at the strong impression I got from it. I could see Tasha quite clearly in my mind. A strong looking woman with olive skin, coal black hair and sulky red lips. She was beautiful in the savage way a hawk is beautiful.
I closed my eyes and dipped my hand into the bowl. In the very first moment I felt a tiny tingling in my fingers. Yet as I reached my mind out to find the exact location for it, it was gone. I searched and searched, cursing softly under my breath. It had been there. Curse it.
"What is it?" hissed Tomas.
I waved him down.
I wiped my fingers dry on my dress and tried again. It was the same, a small tingling to start with and then nothing when I put my finger on it. This time I sat still for a long time, just letting the influences of the Bowl flow over me. Every now and then I would feel a faint frisson on my fingers, but I couldn't pinpoint it. Damn it. It was like trying to scratch an itch and not being able to quite find the place.
Finally I threw down the lock of hair in disgust. It was not a very gracious gesture but I was not used to failing at magic.
"What is it?" cried Tomas. "Can't you find her?"
"Oh there's something there all right. I can feel her. I just can't find her."
Then I uttered the fatal words.
"If only I could get closer."
"You can get closer," cried Tomas. "You must get closer. Come with us back into Moria, to Annac."
"What?!"
”Come with us to Annac. Cast a bowl of seeing there. You'll be able to see much further into Moria from there. That's what we've come here for. To beg you on our knees if need be.”
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"You're mad. They'd burn me. They'd burn me the instant I set foot on Morian soil."
"Not if you don't practice any magic. It's safe enough just to travel if you have the permits."
"But you are asking me to do magic."
"People do magic in Moria all the time. Healers are smuggled in all over the place and we hide them from the Witch Hunters. I've hidden many myself. You come into Moria, you perform the search, and we whisk you away into hiding till its safe to come home. Easy."
Easy! Easy! I could have hit him. 'You plausible villain!' I wanted to scream at him. But he who shouts first loses. I learnt that from my foster father.
"If you think you can come here and I'll fall on you neck just because you're family ... Do you think I'm stupid? I might go into Moria for a friend, but you are nothing to me. Nothing!"
"Look I'm sorry, but you must ... Please Dion. Listen to me. It will be safe. I'll give my life for you if need be. Dion. Listen."
He caught hold of me and suddenly yelped and let go.
In my anger, I had let out at a little spike of power and burned him.
I swore and put my hand over my face. Mages were forbidden to use any kind of magic on non-mages unless requested. It was our most basic rule. And here I was burning a non-mage. What was I coming too?
"Dion I know you're angry at me. Look, burn me as much as you want to. I'll understand." He held out his hand. The welt was already showing pink on it. "But please listen to me."
My heart turned over with guilt at the sight of that welt and he would know it. My bitter thoughts returned.
"Tomas," said Hamel. He pulled Tomas' hand away. "Leave her alone. Everyone is getting too upset. Come now, let us talk of something else. Or perhaps a walk. Perhaps you'd like to go for a walk. Think things over."
I turned on him.
"There's nothing to think over. Oh you're so nice, aren't you Hamel. Well don't think I don't understand. I can see what you and Tomas are doing. Him so nasty and you so nice. Save your breath. It won't work. I want nothing to do with either of you. Why don't you just get out and leave me alone?"
"It's not like that," he snapped. "Aumaz you're just as bad as the rest of them. Just calm down. Tomas has gone rushing in like a mad bull and now everyone is upset and not thinking straight. We won't talk of it any more. Look. Read your letter. We'll go outside and come back at dusk. Maybe everyone will be calmer then and we can come to some sensible compromise."
"I don't have to do anything for you," I cried still upset, frightened at what they might ask of me, and what I might give if I let down my guard.
"I know that Dion. None the less, we need you. And so we will come back cap in hand and on our knees, and ask again more politely. And then we will abide by your decision."
His words made me feel cruel. So did Tomas' disappointed face. I tried to remind myself they were probably meant to. I tried to