Selatravis had met Damius Marks about a dozen times in his short career as a senator. It wasn’t until he learned Deltia had acquired a Remel orb that he discovered Marks was involved.

  Shault told him about the incident at Ethan Academy, of how Thayer, Marks, and Deltia were maintaining a delicate hold over the kingdom of Parceta by utilizing the orbs’ foresight abilities.

  He thought about how little he knew of Marks—how little anyone knew of him. The man was not only a recluse, but he was the oldest person alive by far, even older than Shault who knew Damius Marks in the old days. And he looked no older than a healthy sixty-five. His demeanor and air were repulsive, but his vitality remained largely intact.

  Seladia and Selatravis descended into the interior of the vorago and followed the mostly empty passage to the royal corridor. The two saw none other than Damius Marks—looking irritated—nod to the guard standing watch as he passed him in the hall.

  “How do we get past him?” Selatravis asked.

  Seladia whispered her response. “Sleep, chameleon, sneak, kill, distraction, emergency, disguise—”

  “I’m sorry I asked.” Selatravis interrupted.

  The guard shifted his spear from his right hand, to his left so he could scratch his neck. A loud snapping sound filled the dimly lit main passage around the vorago to his left.

  He stepped forward and peered around the corner to see…nothing. His eyes scanned the passage and he saw no one. He returned to his station, shrugging. He yawned and continued guarding.

  Further into the royal corridor, Seladia and Selatravis crept toward the castle with the guard none the wiser. Selatravis’s chameleon spell wore off and he appeared next to Seladia.

  They rounded the corner only to see the busy main intersection of Narcuss castle ahead. The thoroughfare ahead bustled with castle personnel, guards, and other members of the royal family.

  “Got anything stronger than that chameleon spell?” Seladia asked

  “You would know, right?” Selatravis asked.

  “Psh, follow my lead.” Seladia marched toward the hall without slowing down. She pulled the pink robe about herself to cover her leather uniform beneath.

  Selatravis glanced at Seladia, then to the guards standing watch on the inside of the passage ahead. They walked right up to the guard on the right. Seladia clasped her hands together and began.

  “My brother, Senator Selatravis, and I were talking to the chancellor in his box and he invited us up to his tower.” Seladia said. “He probably only passed through a moment ago.”

  “Yes, he did.” The guard confirmed. “I just need to see your invitation.”

  Seladia produced a formal invite that Selatravis glared and craned his neck to look at. He didn’t know where the devil she could have received an actual royal invitation—until Selatravis caught the date on the upper right. It was marked for over two years prior, and it was for Seladia and a party of five others.

  The guard didn’t notice the date as he glanced at Selatravis. The senator’s status alone superseded the invitation, as impressive as it was that Seladia had one. He waved them through, and the two climbed the steps toward St. Alton Bridge leading to the east tower.

  “You could have told me I was going as myself.” Selatravis said as the two ascended the stairs.

  “Where’s the fun in that?” Seladia asked.

  They crossed the St. Alton Bridge and climbed the chancellor’s tower.

  Seladia had been here before. She became quiet, and the color drained from her face the closer they got to Marks’s chamber.

  When they reached the top of the steps, they found Damius Marks seated next to the glowing orange Remel orb resting in its perch beside him. It was so bright, it was like a small sun illuminating the room.

  “Welcome back.” Marks said. “I had a feeling you were coming.” He motioned at the orb with his hand.

  “It’s time for you to relinquish the orbs.” Selatravis said. “Harboring dangerous magical artifacts is against the very law Cerveys Narcuss constructed.”

  “Relinquish them to who, you?” Marks cocked his brow. “You wouldn’t know where to begin with the vast amount of power at your disposal—if you were even capable of bringing the three together.”

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  “We can figure out what to do with the orbs to make sure no one has access to them.” Selatravis insisted.

  Marks tipped his head back and laughed. “You really are a naive dreamer, Selatravis. If power exists, power will be controlled. You, me—someone far worse—control of the power is as constant and inevitable as the rising and falling of the sun.”

  “Enough of your bullshit,” Seladia took a step toward him. “Give us the orb!”

  “Come and take it.” Marks said, relaxed. “Actually, the orb foresaw this entire encounter. We both knew this moment was coming.”

  “But we don’t know how it ends.” Seladia said, her eyes filled with the orange light of the orb.

  “Take off your gloves, and come get the orb—willingly this time.” Marks spoke soothingly. He nodded to the orb that seemed to be boiling across its surface beyond the radiant light coming off it.

  Seladia looked to Selatravis. The confident air Seladia almost always held had abandoned her. Her face and eyes reflected that of the worried little girl she used to be when she sought out help from her big brother.

  She looked to the floor, then to Marks. Seladia stepped forward, her face flooded with the orange light of the orb as she drew closer to it.

  “Wait,” Selatravis held up a hand, “what happens when she touches that thing?”

  “Your sister is what is known as an Enchantra Encantess,” Marks answered, “what you would understand as an oracle, or prophet. She’ll be driven mad by the endless possibilities held by the orb, but somewhere within that insanity she’ll see the truth.”

  “Don’t worry, brother…it only hurts,” she swallowed hard, “a little.” Seladia raised her hand and continued toward the roiling orb a few feet ahead.

  She tugged off her glove from the middle finger to reveal trembling fingers that were uncharacteristic of the steady rogue Selatravis knew her to be. Reaching toward the orb, Seladia preemptively winced before her fingers could come into contact with its scalding glass surface.

  “Take it!” Marks ordered, raising his hand to telekinetically pull the apparatus apart and connect the glowing orange ball with her grasp.

  For Seladia, the moment her fingers touched the orb, Selatravis, Marks, and the room all exploded away from her. She swirled through a violent ocean of experiences that had not yet occurred.

  She could see events like a forest of trees, threads leading to every single possibility. There was one overarching tree that stood in the center. All events were connected to its fate.

  For Selatravis and Marks, Seladia’s hand was magnetically tugged to the orb’s surface and her eyes filled with the same orange light coming off the glass sphere.

  She tilted her head back as an unnatural wind seemed to pull everything toward her like the orb itself created some insane artificial gravity. Papers uplifted and flew across the room as an old book on Marks's desk flopped open with the pages whirring in the rush of air.

  “Cut it off!” Selatravis yelled to Marks as a primordial fear took him.

  “Patience senator!” Marks glared at Seladia. “The prophet is about to speak.”

  Seladia opened her mouth and began in an ethereal voice that sounded nothing like his sister’s.

  “Betrayal, I see! The one who has mastered the self shall triumph! The transfer of power has already begun. Seek redemption, for your time draws to a close!”

  In an explosive rage, Marks stood up and grabbed the orb while Seladia was still holding it. For one moment, his eyes filled with the sunset orange light that filled Seladia’s eyes. The whole castle and earth beneath it shook violently.

  Seladia released the orb, causing her expression to return. She quickly drew each of her daggers meaning to end this once and for all. Selatravis raised both arms and globes of fire appeared over each palm.

  Marks raised his hand to telekinetically force Seladia back. Her leather boots skidded as she was pushed toward the wall next to the stairwell.

  A shield of fire erupted around Marks where Selatravis’s stream of fire connected, absorbing his attack while Marks suppressed Seladia at the same time. The orb was suspended and still glowing next to Marks as he held back both assailants effortlessly.

  All at once, Seladia fell to her knees, Selatravis ceased his assault, and Marks released both of them. The orb—now a clear glass ball—dropped in mid-air, but Marks caught it and placed it back on its perch.

  “Well, that was enlightening.” Marks turned his back on Seladia and Selatravis.

  “What the hell just happened?” Selatravis asked.

  “Never mind.” Marks said, turning back to face them. “I’ve come to a conclusion about what must be done. I have an important task for both of you.”

  “Why on Aallandranon would we do anything for you?” Selatravis shook his head.

  “Because it involves your fiancé’s father.” Marks replied. “I require the orb Deltia Chester holds. He’s become enthralled with it—too enthralled. You may need to kill him to retrieve it.”

  “Again, why should we do anything to help you?” Selatravis asked.

  “Because if you don’t, your fiancé and son will die,” said Marks. “The orbs are connected. What we see, he sees, and he knows you are coming.”

  “We have to go, Selatravis.” Seladia said. Her skin looked pale and sickly, as if the orb had drained some of the youth she still carried.

  “And what incentive do we have to bring this orb back to you once we obtain it, assuming we can?” Selatravis asked.

  “Bring me the orbs and I will protect you, your friends, and your family.” Marks paced before them. “You could…take the orb and flee, knowing I would send someone to retrieve it inevitably, but you would be giving up your position in the senate.

  You could take the orb to the senate and tell them of what I’m doing. But how many of the senate are already bought? How many of the senate won’t believe you?

  And will you be among those in the senate who fall when I decide it’s time for a regime change…or will you be able to retire peacefully at the location of your preference with your lovely wife and son beside you? The choice is yours, Senator.”

  At that moment, the chancellor’s son entered the chamber and hurried up the stairs with his trio of guards.