Free The Iron Ring by Auston Habershaw Page B

hand to his chin. “Yes, the biomancy bit is troubling. It is also, however, an unusual choice for Reldamar, is it not?”
    Myreon sighed and nodded. “It is—­he usually restricts himself to artifacts and basic magecraft. This is the first time we have him dealing in the High Arts, or with Kalsaari arcane texts.”
    â€œWhat does that indicate to you?”
    â€œI haven’t worked up the proper augury to tell me—­”
    â€œNo, no,” Tarlyth warned, waggling a finger at her, “not with sorcery. What does that indicate to your reason—­your mind .”
    Myreon blinked. “What do you mean?”
    Tarlyth sighed and sat back, taking up his goblet. “Do you know why Tyvian Reldamar consistently eludes us—­note that I say ‘us’ and not just ‘you,’ Myreon—­you are not the only Mage Defender whom Reldamar has thwarted. Well, do you know?”
    â€œI . . . I can only conclude that he is uncommonly lucky.”
    â€œNo, he is uncommonly smart. He knows that we rely on the High Arts—­on our auguries and sorceries—­to find and catch him. What he has realized and that so many of us have not is that the High Arts and, indeed, even the Low Arts of magic, are just tools . Powerful tools, certainly, but tools nevertheless, and tools are only as good as the men wielding them. Too many of our order—­especially since the end of the Delloran and Illini Wars—­have come to rely too heavily on their arts to perform their duties. They have forgotten that, before the wars, when more conservative elements controlled the Arcanostrum, Defenders were taught to be investigators first and magi second.”
    â€œOf course, sir.” Myreon nodded, restraining the urge to throw her goblet at the wall and scream. Reldamar was still at large and here she was, being lectured ?
    Tarlyth laughed. “You are young—­I don’t expect you to agree with me. Not yet, in any case. Let me ask you this, though, to see if I can’t prove my point: what does a seekwand do?”
    Myreon shrugged. “It is an enchanted device of about twelve inches, usually made of bone, that can read the Etheric ley of an area to see if someone has passed. If you have something that belongs to a person, you can isolate their trail and track them with the Law of Possession. ­Coupled with some simple auguries, you can usually track anybody over any distance with very little error.”
    Tarlyth nodded. “Good, but what are its limitations?”
    â€œLike any Etheric device, it functions poorly in areas where Lumenal energy is dominant—­cornfields, dense woodlands, fields of wildflowers in direct sunlight, that sort of thing. It’s also rather breakable, and it requires a good bit of time to narrow down on the proper trail if the quarry is moving along a heavily trafficked route, and the Law of Possession only works for a short time. Still, it is perfectly accurate. I’ve found smugglers in—­”
    â€œI am well aware of its benefits, Myreon,” Tarlyth interrupted, “but consider this: to most of our quarry and, indeed, to most ­people, the function of a seekwand is mysterious and frightening. They think that they cannot hide, and fail to realize just what protection a sunny field of daisies might afford them. They hide in the dark and away from prying eyes, which is just where the seekwand works best. The problem with this is that Reldamar, and those like him, are not most men. He is perfectly aware of how a seekwand works—­his great uncle, Hann rest him, invented the damned thing—­and so you can bet a pretty penny that right now Tyvian Reldamar is in a crowded garden party, standing in the sun, with a stick of burning incense in his pocket. Gods, I bet he’s only buying things in sevens, too, just to make sure. Your precious seekwand won’t find him in a