Flameseeker (Book 3) Read Free

and those few
were forever bound to the Citadel, forbidden to ever again step outside the
doors as free men with such dangerous knowledge in their possession.
    Jarial could never understand how Garmin endured
the constant scrutiny, as if he were some sort of criminal. But very little
bothered Garmin—or perhaps he simply hid his feelings well.
    “It is unfortunate that it had to come to this,”
said Third Seat Gwenneth Aldermoon, breaking Jarial from his thoughts, “but it
is true that mortals cannot control the iron grip that Necromancy fastens on
its wielder.” Jarial remembered the Third Seat enchantress as a quiet little
girl, but the years had been very good to her. She had become a beautiful woman,
in the fullness of her power.
    “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m
grateful that Master Glace managed to put a stop to Xavorin’s destruction,”
said Lars Ustan, representing the First Seat, Abjuration. He was one of the
veteran members of the Council, holding his seat long before Jarial joined. He
was a generous man whose youthful appearance far preceded his age, and it made
him well liked by many of the students.
    “As am I,” said Sixth Seat Yates Harden, who represented
Conjuration. “Though Xavorin was a troubled man, he will never be forgotten.”
    Jarial glanced at him and then bowed his head in
agreement.
    Burke stood. “Master Glace, we are grateful for
your continued service to the Council, despite your broken affiliations. As
you’ve probably noticed, your spot is once again empty....”
    Jarial blinked. ‘Once again’? “What do you
mean, Elder?”
    “Na’val Faulk, who replaced you not long after you
took your leave, went missing two days ago.”
    “Missing? Where was he last seen?”
    “Here at the Citadel.” Burke stroked his bushy
grey-white beard. “One of the students said that he mentioned he was going out
for a walk, but he never returned.”
    Jarial furrowed his brow. He hadn’t personally
known Na’val, so he had no bearings to make sense of the Council’s alarm. “Have
you tried scrying for him?”
    “A few have been assigned to do that,” Burke replied.
“They’ve been at it all day, with no luck. We’ve sent out search parties, but
there has been no news yet. Na’val was to host and give a lecture at this
year’s symposium, which will be in six days. He has always looked forward to
the event—and he was looking forward to it more than usual this year, because
he is hosting. It is unlike him to leave without notice, especially with the
event fast approaching. I fear for the worst.”
    Jarial rubbed his chin. Every Citadel mage looked
forward to the Ghaeldorund Mage Symposium, an annual gathering of great minds
from all over Exodus, held in the Hall of Lions located in the city’s plaza.
Jarial had eagerly planned to attend once again, after having been away from
the city for so many years.
    Jarial looked around the table at the other Councilmembers,
who shifted in their chairs and avoided eye contact. The Council of Nine,
with only eight members? They cannot possibly—
    “Master Glace,” Burke continued, “I would like to
extend the invitation for you to rejoin the Council—at least temporarily, until
Master Faulk is found.”
    Jarial felt himself pale. No, I promised to
never get involved again. How can I refuse without upsetting them? “Well ...”
    “I must agree,” Garmin interjected. “Your service
to the Council in the past has gone above and beyond anything we ever asked. I
could not think of a better candidate for the job than you.”
    Virgil snorted. “Please. Have you all forgotten
about the self-centered and questionable behavior he exhibited when he was
helping that renegade? I think having him on the Council would be a bad choice
indeed. Wouldn’t you agree?” He looked to some of the other Councilmembers, who
nodded slowly.
    Virgil’s outburst brought a sneer to Jarial’s lip. It would be useless attempting to argue with that