Free War of Shadows by Gail Z. Martin

get him into bed,” Carensa ordered, and Guran helped her maneuver Jarle to lie down. “I’ll make sure he gets supper, and some whiskey to bring back his color,” she added worriedly.
    Guran made a gesture of warding, sealing the door behind them and shrouding the room so that they could not be heard outside. “It’s going to take more than whiskey to deal with Vigus when he’s like this,” Guran said quietly.
    Carensa struggled with Jarle’s blankets to get the older mage comfortably settled. Jarle managed a weak smile. “Thank you,” he murmured.
    “That was brave of you—and foolish, given the mood Vigus was in,” Carensa chided.
    “I thought perhaps he would still listen to me,” Jarle replied, and sighed.
    “Increasingly, he listens to no one,” Guran said. “Even Carensa can’t sway him as she used to.”
    Carensa gave a sad smile. “I think you overestimate my skill with that,” she replied. “I was just one of his pupils.”
    Guran raised an eyebrow. “One of his favored pupils,” he corrected.
    Carensa sat down on the edge of Jarle’s bed. Guran leaned against the wall. “It’s getting worse, isn’t it? These last few months, since Blaine and his friends left and the magic returned, Vigus hasn’t been himself.”
    “And now we have a good idea of why,” Guran replied. “Drawing on the power of a bound
divi
is always risky. But to do it now, when the magic is so unstable—”
    “You think the
divi
is what’s changed him?” Carensa asked.
    “Either the
divi
or one of the other artifacts he’s dabbling with,” Guran answered. “It’s the most logical explanation.” He sighed. “He’s become obsessed, and his obsession borders on madness.”
    “Vigus always thought highly of himself,” Jarle said, his voice still not at its usual strength. “That’s one reason he clashed with the king’s mages and the University senior scholars. The thing that annoyed them was that Vigus really was as good as he thought he was.”
    “I’ve never known him to take opposing opinions well,” Guran said.
    “But Vigus wasn’t so cold—so willing to sacrifice people’s lives for the magic—until after Blaine came,” Carensa said quietly.
    “You knew McFadden, before the war, didn’t you?” Jarle said.
    Carensa nodded. “We were betrothed, until he was exiled. Our families lived near each other. I’ve known him since we were children.”
    “You’re right about the timing,” Guran replied. “Vigus was his usual egotistical self until the magic was restored.”
    “But if it were just the magic itself that pushed him over the edge, wouldn’t we all be fighting like mad dogs?” Jarle mused. “Or dead—like the ones who were too quick to try out the artifacts after the magic came back.”
    Carensa remembered. She had helped bury those mages, and the others who, during the first weeks and months after the magic was restored, discovered the limitations of the new power the hard way. “The magic’s become more stable since then,” she protested.
    Guran shook his head. “It’s still brittle. The power waxes and wanes. If that happens when you’re channeling a lot of power, it’s a good way to end up dead—or damaged.”
    “I don’t think it’s the magic that’s changed Vigus,” Jarle said. “I think it’s the artifacts. Think about it. Before the magic was restored, Vigus was interested in saving the artifacts and scrolls to preserve old knowledge. It’s only been since the magic returned that he’s been interested—obsessed, really—with using the artifacts to gain political power. And he no longer cares who gets hurt.”
    “But the artifacts weren’t evil to begin with. What changed?” Carensa asked.
    “The magic changed,” Jarle replied. “The artifacts aren’t evil now, they’ve just been corrupted. Like spoiled meat. It’s not evil, but it still might kill you.”
    Guran nodded. “I believe that’s it exactly. I think this
divi
globe is the most