Free The Law of Isolation by Angela Holder Page B

claims as the Mother’s power is nothing of the sort, but rather a wicked attempt to counterfeit her blessings.”
    Gevan clenched his hands into fists at his sides. He longed to shout a rebuttal of the Purifier’s accusations, but he dared not speak without the Matriarch’s permission. Besides, she’d deliberately invited Yoran to comment, even though her approval of the window-glass was clear. She must have known what he would say.
    Yoran drew a deep breath and continued his diatribe. “When the ancient wizards bore the Mother’s power they used it for evil. She saw the destruction they wrought and repented that she had ever granted them her gifts. She remade the fabric of the universe to eliminate her power from the world. So the holy Yashonna wrote, reporting the words of his father, the prophet Guron. She judged us—all of us, even you, your majesty—unworthy to wield her power. Indeed, the ancient writings suggest that someday she may see fit to return her gifts to us, but only if we prove ourselves her true servants by deep devotion. Would any true servant of the Mother seek to mimic her holy power, pen it up within a metal and glass construction? This is the work, rather, of one who scorns the Mother. Who cares nothing for her wrath because he denies her very existence!” Spittle flew from his lips, so vehement were his words. He glared at Gevan. “Beware, deceiver, lest she strike you down for your sacrilege!”
    The Matriarch raised her hand, and Yoran choked off his rant. “Thank you for sharing your insight with us, Keeper,” she said. “I have a better understanding now of the differing viewpoints on the matter. First Keeper Emirre believes this new device is a sign of the Mother’s favor, while you are of the opinion it is an impious insult to her holiness. Very well, we will let the Mother herself judge the dispute.”
    She turned and beckoned to Gevan. “Professor Navorre.”
    Gevan stepped to her side. She took his hand in hers; her fingers were cool and impersonal against his skin.
    “This is my decision. Professor Navorre will continue his research with my full support. If it is the Mother’s will, he will continue to reach greater understanding of her works, and devise new ways of making her powers available for use. Then all will know that First Keeper Rothen is correct, and the day of the return of the Mother’s powers has come. But if Keeper Yoran is right, the Mother will frown on Professor Navorre’s attempts, and he will fail to produce any further inventions.”
    Gevan swallowed. Now he understood the game she played. He would be the tool she would use to discredit the Purifiers. As long as he did what he’d claimed was possible and discovered ways to reproduce each of the other powers, Yoran would be shown to be an empty demagogue, and his support among the people would erode until he was no longer a danger.
    Nothing would please Gevan more. But still his heart pounded, and his hand in the Matriarch’s grew clammy with sweat. If he failed, he would strengthen the Purifiers’ cause. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t possible to duplicate the rest of the wizard’s powers by natural means. Even if it was, maybe he would prove inadequate to the task of discovering how.
    The Matriarch rose from the throne with a smile. “Come, Professor Navorre. I have every faith in you. I anticipate with great pleasure the day you present the next of your devices to be used for Ramunna’s welfare. Whatever you need for your research, ask and it is yours.”
    The possibilities of her offer dizzied Gevan. “I—I—If it’s possible, I’d like to set up an account with the spectacle maker who grinds my lenses, so he can obtain more of the fine glass necessary—”
    “It shall be done.” The Matriarch inclined her head regally.
    Admiral Nesh stepped to Gevan’s side, the window-glass in his hands. “How long will it take you to produce more of these? I want one in the hands of every