Page 11 of The Shadow Wand

“No mixing,” Vogel agrees. His grip tightens on the gray wand before him, his gaze sliding across them all.“Consuming.”

Vogel presses his wand’s tip to the stones, one by one, and Vyvian draws back, blinking in wonder as the blue glow of each circular rune is sucked into Vogel’s wand leaving a dark imprint, the rune shapes then filling with undulating shadow, fingers of gray smoke twisting up from their transformed designs.

“They have power, the heathens,” Vogel muses as a delicate whirl of shadow coils up from his wand. “Portal abilities and superior runic sorcery that has given them advantages for far too long. This power belongs in Mage hands.Weare the only ones who can wield magic to do the Ancient One’s will. Soweare the only ones who should control it.Allof it.”

Vogel looks to the inverted-tree chandelier and focuses, and a flurry of dark wings appears behind a branch. A previously hidden bird flies down and alights on Vogel’s shoulder.

Along with the rest of the Council, Vyvian draws back in both awe and revulsion.

The bird looks like a crow, but there’s a grotesquerie ofeyesall over its upper head, most a changeable gray color, as if they contain an incoming storm.

But the eye in the center of the bird’s head...

It’s the same pale, searing green as Vogel’s eyes.

“What sorcery is this?” Mage Gaffney whispers, the words shot through with obvious alarm. Smoking shadow runes cover the bird’s sides, its chest, the top of its dark head.

Both Vogel and the bird turn their heads toward Mage Gaffney with frightening synchronicity. A shuddering chill runs down Vyvian’s spine.

“A runic eye,” Vogel says, as Vyvian is filled with the certainty that Vogel is seeing not only through his own two eyes, but through the bird’s central green eye, as well.

“Why does this...thinghave so many eyes?” Mage Greer spits out, his own gaze riveted to the bird.

Vogel and the bird turn to him in a uniform motion, and Vyvian is chilled anew.

“An effect of the magic I’ve requisitioned,” Vogel states.

An uneasy rumble of murmurs rise from the Council.

“Are there more of these altered birds?” Mage Greer asks.

“Just the one,” Vogel says coolly as he lifts his chin. The bird takes flight and lands on Mavrik Glass’s shoulder, the young Mage seeming unfazed by the monstrous bird, his knowing smile bright. “For now,” Vogel adds, looking to the Council pointedly, as if mentally transmitting the possibilities.

“A runic spy,” Mage Snowden breathes in awe, looking to Vogel as if with heightened appreciation.

“A military advantage,” Mage Priest Alfex interjects reverently. “That the Ancient One has blessed us with.”

Vyvian takes in the nightmare bird and Vogel’s gray wand. For a moment she’s overcome by the sense that they’re playing with dangerous magic that should have been left alone. Magic that’s corrupted and primordial andwrong.

Magic that can’t be controlled.

But then another, stronger thought arises.

What if this magic was to fall into the hands of the heathen races?

No, Vyvian insists to herself, refuting her reflexive fear of this shadow magery. Vogel is right. Of course he is. The Gardnerians need to control all magic in the Realms. Because the Gardnerians are the only ones led by the Ancient One above.

“Shall I show them more, Your Excellency?” Mavrik Glass asks.

Vogel gestures his approval with a subtle tilt of his head.

Mavrik’s knowing smile widens into a calculating grin. He pulls out another entirely different stone and holds it up for the Council’s perusal. This dark lumenstone disc is marked with a different shadow rune, the inner, undulating designs of the complicated mark whirring against each other like clockworks fashioned from dense fog.

Mavrik clamps his fingers tightly around the stone as he unsheathes the mahogany wand at his hip. Then he closes his eyes, dips his head, and brings the tip of his wand to his own shoulder, his expression tensing with what looks like great concentration.

Vyvian lets out a small gasp as the young man’s form blurs, then turns to dark mist. His body grows amorphous, then once more distinct as it re-forms into a muscular, female Vu Trin soldier with coiled black hair, angular features, and the black military uniform of a Noi soldier, the nightmare bird perched on her shoulder.

More gasps float throughout the room.

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