Free Voice of the Lost : Medair Part 2 by Andrea K. Höst Page B

again," Cor-Ibis said.  He was amazingly neat after a night in a cave.  Other than some minor stains on his clothing and the livid purple-red scratch from the corner of one eye down to the edge of his jaw, he was as immaculate as ever.  Medair was not altogether sure how he had managed it.
    The cave entrance curved, so they weren't immediately exposed to outside view, and he stopped as soon as they had travelled far enough for his glow to become noticeable, turning to Medair.  "There is not time to fully investigate the various arcana you have brought from Bleak's Hoard, but we should be able to sort out items for immediate use.  Kaschen, if you would watch the entrance?"
    The young soldier nodded briefly and moved back toward the sunlight.  Those left settled themselves on a tumble of flat rocks.
    "The most powerful items are best left to another time," Cor-Ibis said.  "Such formidable arcana might prove unsafe for us, even if they did not reveal our presence."
    Medair wordlessly opened her satchel and brought out a handful of rings.  She separated those where she knew the function, and lined them on the rock beside her.
    "Animal control, teleport, strength."  She poured the rest into his hand.  "I don't have the sensitivity for divination, so I was trying to discover their function simply by putting them on."
    "Have you tried them all?" he asked, picking out one particularly simple circle of bluish metal and bringing it close to his eyes.
    "No, only six.  These two gave me no clue to their function.  The sixth I tried was the teleport, and after that I decided not to risk any more."
    He nodded, handing the bluish ring to Islantar.  "You will wear this," he instructed as he put the rest of the rings on the rock beside him, then selected one of silver.  Islantar immediately mimicked him, holding the ring close to his face, half-closing his eyes as he concentrated on Cor-Ibis' unspoken test.
    "A luck-ring," the boy said, eyes widening.  "I thought they were no more than legend."
    "But those emanations could be nothing else," Cor-Ibis said.  He turned over the silver ring.  "This allows the wearer to breathe under water."  He handed another ring to Islantar, then started a pile of those they had identified.  Medair watched with unconcealed amazement.  She had seen adepts puzzle over unidentified arcana for days.
    After the luck-ring and the water-breather, there was a poison ward and a thin jewelled band which would summon a mageglow when twisted.  Cor-Ibis lingered over two identical rings, then handed one to Islantar and told him to exchange it for the luck-ring, slipping the one he retained onto a finger.
    "A wend-whisper?" Islantar asked, after a moment.
    "No.  Direct communication.  So there is a way, after all."  Cor-Ibis looked at Medair and smiled, that straightforward expression she still found strange from someone so very Ibisian.  "The contents of your satchel make us seem unadept indeed.  Luck-rings I had at least heard of, though this is the first hint I've ever discovered of a mage who had succeeded in such a crafting."
    "The Hoard was legendary for more than its volume," Medair said.
    He nodded, eyes grave, then returned to the rings.  There was another invisibility ring and the last, much to Medair's chagrin, was a ward proof against traces.
    "If only I'd known that before Vorclase tracked me all the way from Bariback to Finrathlar."
    "Hind-sight."  Cor-Ibis pocketed the trace-ward, then handed her one of the communicators, not noticing that the word had made her blink. 
    Kel ar Haedrin was given the strength enhancer, with appropriate warning against its side-effects, and Islantar the invisibility ring to carry.  "You must avoid capture above all else," Cor-Ibis said, an unequivocal order.
    "I will make that one of my priorities," Islantar replied, equally quiet.  They seemed very like father and son at that moment, mirrors of solemn determination and certainty.  Then a hurried