Tris looked sideways at Palinn. "I'm glad you're on our side."
AT NIGHTFALL, TRIS welcomed six mages led by Sister Fallon. Three mortal guards and three vayash moru stood sentry around the tent. Inside, Coalan had hot tea and sausages ready for them.
"Let me introduce my companions," Fallon said. "I'm a healer, hut I also have some skill with land magic. Latt," she said, indicating a thin woman in her middle years with sharp features and brown hair cut short and tucked beneath a knitted cap, "is a full land mage. You'll find her talents useful. Vira is a water mage." Vira was a plump woman with a broad, plain face. Graying hair made a curly fringe around her features. Sharp intelligence gleamed from Vira's wide-set, light blue eyes.
"Ana is an air mage. She can't speak with spirits like a Summoner, but the winds obey her-quite a weapon when the temperatures are like this." Ana was younger than Fallon, perhaps in her third decade. A long braid of yellow hair was tucked beneath the cowl of her heavy woolen robe. "And Beyral is a water mage, but her real power is in sigils and runes. She's a seer. And she's very skilled in casting spells to work at a distance." Beyral had the features of an Eastmark native, with dark skin
and eyes that were almost black, flecked with gold. Raven hair in a complex braid wound around her head. Tris knew that the braiding was its own kind of magic, amplifying her power.
"What happened last night-the rift in the Flow called the bogwaithe here, didn't it?"
Fallon nodded. "We land mages are especially attuned to the patterns of the Flow, but the disruption has gotten bad enough that even hedge witches know something is wrong. For years, the Flow changed slowly. Things would stay the same and then, one day, there would be a shift. The magic would be a little harder to reach, a little wilder. Since you destroyed the Soulcatcher orb, those changes come faster.
"Shekerishet doesn't lie on the direct line of the Flow. Lochlanimar is older. It was a place of power before it was a fortress. Like Dark Haven, Lochlanimar grew from shrines built to a power people could sense but couldn't see. Curane's blood mages taint the Flow, making the damage even worse."
"It seemed like the magic was splintering… as if the Flow itself was coming apart, wounded."
Sister Fallon looked up at him sharply. "Wounded? Yes, a Summoner might see it that way. We Sisters have debated for years as to whether the Flow is mere energy or whether it has some kind of sentience. I've often felt a… presence… in the energies when I do a working. And while I'm nowhere near powerful enough to touch the Flow itself, I've always believed that it is sentient."