Free Legacy of Kings by C. S. Friedman Page A

himself. Nothing more .
    Of course, even his dreams were suspect now. If Siderea had found a new source of power, she might well be playing with the minds of her ex-lovers. Courtesy had stayed her hand in the past—or perhaps just the thought of what the Magisters would do to her if they caught her using witchery on them—but there were no limits in her world now. And Colivar knew from examining the emotional traces she had left behind in Sankara just how much she hated the Magisters. True, his dream had contained some references to things Siderea could not possibly know about, so the whole of the dream had not been sent by her, but that didn’t mean that some part of it hadn’t been, and his own mind had dressed it up with additional details.
    And then there was the matter of the red-headed witch.
    He remembered how casually Kamala had used her power in Kierdwyn. As if it cost her nothing. And he remembered the chill echoes of sorcery that he had detected in her abandoned room in Gansang. They’d assumed at the time that those had been the mark of some unnamed Magister who was acting as her patron, but now that he’d had a chance to observe her more closely, he was willing to bet that she walked—and worked—alone. Which left only one possible conclusion.
    Call her a Magister, he dared himself.
    There was so much power in that title! And, of course, one’s own identity was revealed in how one applied it. If Ramirus were to name Kamala a Magister, he would merely be stating that she had mastered sorcery and now lived as a parasite, robbing morati of their lives in order to sustain her own. But Colivar understood more about the Magisters’ true nature than Ramirus did. For him, the title resonated with myriad forgotten secrets, fears and failures and betrayals that the others of his kind were not even aware of. If he called a witch by that forbidden name, he would be declaring that she was a part of a complex tapestry they did not even know existed . . . and that she carried the seed of Colivar’s own personal torment within her veins.
    How strangely arousing that thought was! It stirred his blood in ways he had not felt in some time. And it raised all sorts of questions about his own nature, questions he’d thought were settled long ago. A heady combination for any Magister.
    But most important of all, it gave him something to think about other than Siderea’s palace and the presence that he had detected there. Which had caused him many a sleepless night already, and would doubtless continue to do so.
    Sorcery had yet to find a cure for nightmares.

     
    By the time Colivar arrived at the meeting, the others were already there. He could sense their presence before he entered the room, and for a moment he hesitated, wondering if he really wanted to join them. The presence of other sorcerers was disturbing enough on a good day, and the fact that he had detected the scent of a Souleater queen at Siderea’s palace was not helping matters. It was one thing to find a nest full of eggs and speculate that at some point a queen might have passed through the area, but it was another to drink in that intoxicating scent with every breath, to feel the magical traces of a queen’s presence vibrate beneath your fingertips, and to know that a former lover might now be bound to her, sharing that ultimate intimacy.
    All things considered, he would much rather go home right now and isolate himself with his thoughts than have to face others of his kind. But he needed the information that would be shared in this meeting; there was simply no way around that. And so, drawing in a deep breath, he pushed open the door and entered the chamber, trying to look more composed than he felt.
    Lazaroth, Ramirus, and Sulah stood respectfully as he entered. They had positioned themselves on three sides of a heavy trestle table, using the piece of furniture as a shield between them. At one time Colivar might have been amused by that, but these