Read Online Rift in the Races by John Daulton - Free Book Online Page B

those of every other Prosperion in the room. Orli was certain that the Queen was going to strike the woman, but remarkably, she did not. It was clear from the narrow-eyed fury that glinted in Her Majesty’s eyes that anything she said would have ramifications in court later on—the public tearing-down of a marchioness was not a move to be made lightly, even by the Queen, and particularly when the marchioness controlled the largest and most belligerently peopled duchy on Kurr. Rather than speak the rebuke then, the Queen skewered her with a look so withering even Vorvington moved away from the marchioness a full two steps, a distance he’d not suffered since the beginning of the tour. No one said a word. Not even Captain Asad, though he did appear to appreciate the ferocity of Her Majesty’s nuclear gaze.
    That scowl took nearly a full minute to evaporate from the War Queen’s face, but slowly it did, and the alert Captain Jefferies took the opportunity to set them all back on course.
    “So, what is this anti-magic?” he asked. “I’m afraid I still don’t have any idea what you are talking about.”
    “Oh, yes, of course,” said Aderbury, glad to be moving forward again. “Altin, would you like to explain? You worked more closely with Peppercorn than I did.”
    Altin glowered at Aderbury, for the transmuter knew anti-magic as well as anyone, and Altin was perfectly happy standing beside Orli as he was. However, he could hardly refuse, particularly not with the Queen possibly teetering on the brink of drawing her sword or at the very least sicking the elf on someone.
    He pressed through to the front of the group, reluctantly leaving Orli behind, and stood before the wooden door. He waited until everyone was looking at him, using the silence to snuff any lingering tension in the room.
    “Through this door is the room we have named, perhaps inelegantly, ‘the closet.’” He lightly tapped on it with a knuckle. “It’s encapsulated with anti-magic, which is basically a spell that achieves a state of non-magic. It’s been tried off and on for centuries, but only half-heartedly. Most can’t fathom a use for it that wouldn’t have as many drawbacks as benefits, so it’s mainly been a curiosity, a plaything for philosophers and magic theorists but little more. It stayed as such for as long as it has simply because no one could pull it off. That is, until now.
    “Thanks to our experience with your technology, we had a reason to find it. We commissioned diviners to start working on the idea of your ships’ communication machines, the big ones that you use to speak over the great distances, the ones that work much like telepaths do—something about tangled particles.”
    Orli helped by offering the proper term, “Entangled.”
    He smiled and thanked her with a nod.
    “Perhaps more important, or at least potentially more dangerous, we also realized that we can’t communicate reliably at close range with your ships either. Not even if we were to have collar-pin communicators of the sort you are wearing now. While here on Prosperion, they seem to work reasonably well, even in some of the more heavily enchanted parts of Crown City, but the truth is, we don’t believe they will work well inside of Citadel at all—especially not when it is fully functional and, in particular, during a fight with the Hostiles where we might have as many as two thousand magicians casting all at once. In those moments, coordination will be of ultimate importance, and we believe there will simply be too much magical interference to make that form of communication dependable. And trust me,” he added as if an aside, “having been in battle alongside your ships before and unable to make contact, I do not wish to do such a thing again.”
    Several of the captains were nodding at this, most of those present having been part of that great battle with the Hostiles a little over a year and a half ago. Even Captain Asad could find no