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The words rang ominously in Esmés head as she climbed the winding stairs of the Tower of Kaleidoscopic Light, its huge golden key clutched tightly in her hand. She hadnt needed to invoke the towers special magic for a long time, for her beloved land had enjoyed over three years of peace and prosperity since the execution of the evil sorceress Mirabell the Fair. But Esmés former tutor Ilsameres description of Iggies disappearance had filled her with alarm. And it had taken all Esmés powers of sorcery to get from the near- Esmé paused at the top of the stairs to regain her breath. She turned her face up to the eight stained- But she had a job to do. With fingers that shook in spite of herself, she put the key into the keyhole of the door leading to the castle battlements. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and concentrated. Within moments she knew she stood outside on top of the now revolving pillar around which the stairs wound. She opened her eyes and found herself looking down at the stained- But Esmé determinedly ignored the beauty of the land she loved so intensely. She raised her hands, fingers pointing. And from every finger the rainbow light poured, twisting with the power Esmé awoke in it. With fierce concentration she whispered the spell that would summon the Voice of Judgement And within moments Esmé felt the full force of a refusal that could break even the strongest mind With her thinking ability all but gone, it was the emotion of anger I am your future Queen! she heard herself shout But the Voice of Judgement still refused the summons However, under the onslaught of an emotion never before used against it, the Voice of Judgement gave in instantly. And to Esmés ears it really did sound sulky: its slow, virtually expressionless tone was certainly ungracious. What do you want? I have a great deal of work to do: you are keeping people waiting. I want to know if you have judged the sorceress Mirabell, known as the Fair. Who? Esmé almost expected this to be followed by Never heard of her. Mirabell the Fair, Duchess of Mirakklon and the Far Isles of Raldyss. She was executed The Voice of Judgement took refuge in pomposity. This is a most unseemly request. I am not permitted to give out confidential information. And the very reason for my existence is what denies the living the right to communicate with me. Esmé tried to contain her impatience. I merely want to know if you judged her Hm ... well ... Probing with her mind, Esmé sensed that the Voice of Judgement was baffled and therefore playing for time. You mean you cant remember something as unusual as someone convicted of high treason? she asked incredulously. Well ... um ... of course ... er ... well, three years is a long time. However, I do ... seem to recall a woman .... But I would never have let her through if she had been guilty of the crime for which she had been executed. And I do not recall the name Mirabell of Mirakklon. You must remember I have judged probably a million people since ... Well, check you records I am checking them. The Voice of Judgement all but lost its lack of expression, sounding slightly panicky. Esmé waited while the Voice of Judgement checked records that were really nothing more than a memory bank with as little substance as the Voice of Judgement itself. The silence was punctuated only by the Voice of Judgements continual, almost human stream of ums, ers and a final surprised Oh! ... Oh dear! Then it made a sound as though clearing its throat. When it spoke again it sounded distinctly embarrassed even beneath its air of pomposity. Since you are the future ruler of Lazaronia and the information is very important to the land, I feel obliged to go further than merely answering your question. Mirabell the Fair has not come for judgement yet. But around the time you mention I did judge a young woman who had been beheaded for high treason. She said her name was Dahrya Dynhydralon. I sensed something wrong in her claim in spite of detecting no lie but, since it appeared she was innocent of the crime for which she had been punished, I let her through. She must have been a very powerful sorceress to have deceived me so convincingly. She wasnt a sorceress: her name was Dahrya Dynhydralon as she claimed and you judged her right. Youre immune to sorcery © L A Barker Enterprises Next: Silvranja of the Silver Forest | Previous: The Sorceresses of Lazaronia |