PREVIEW

... uest quarters of the Royal Academy like liquid silver.

Iris Silvermoon sat before a basin of water.

She did not move. She did not blink.

To a human observer, she would appear to be meditating.

To an elf, she was on a conference call.

The surface of the water rippled. It did not ripple from wind or vibration.

It rippled with magic.

An image formed on the surface. It was the face of Elder Aerin.

He looked old. Even by elven standards, ...

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