Emperor Peleus of the Macarians paced across his bedchamber turning an enchanted ring over and over in his hand, while from the furthest corner of the high domed chamber he was watched by a spider. The ring had been the first tribute which he had extracted from his final defeat of the Witch-Queen of Trabakond, the ring of invisibility which held so much promise. Too much promise. There were countless things that one could do with a ring of invisibility, and Peleus’s usually-decisive mind was struggling to even count them all.

  He flipped the ring over, observing its symmetry. Assassinating all of his political rivals would be an effortless proposition, and if he did it right the deaths would be bmed on sorcery. He held the ring up to the afternoon sun, observing the way the copper wire glinted in the light. Were Peleus a less honorable man, he could easily use the ring to sate his desires, stealing gold and wives alike with total abandon. He ran his thumbnail along the ring, feeling out the crevices where the copper wires met. Peleus had always wondered how it was that his people thought of him, when neither eyes nor formal rules of court watched over them.

  The spider knew well of Peleus’s paranoia, his unceasing lust for power and praise. She had been on the receiving end of it twelve years prior, and it had instilled in her the hatred of the Emperor that had fueled her ever since. Normally that endless lust was contained, burning only those bundles of sticks which the Empire selected to be burned; but by giving him the ring, she had poured oil on that fire. Soon it would burn without discrimination.

  When at st he slipped on the ring—for what purpose the spider could not be sure, though she had a few likely guesses—it was time to move. She could see him whether he wore the ring or not, the enchantment on her eyes allowing her to easily bypass what was, in the end, a simple spell. As soon as the Emperor’s faded image threatened to leave the chamber, the spider became a moth, and fluttered fast to follow him.

  The Emperor moved slowly and carefully, not fully internalizing the freedom of movement which the ring allowed him. He opened the chamber door only a crack and squeezed through, then crept slowly down the pace hallways. The Emperor had no fixed destination; he wandered, sometimes moving a long while and at other times stopping to make silent observation. He was, the moth concluded, spying.

  The Emperor suddenly ran across one of the pace sves, carrying a wicker basket full of fresh-dried undry up to the chamber of its owner. Her he followed, sneaking always just a handful of steps behind. Why he did this, not even he knew; Peleus had never been one to pay attention to sves. And yet he found that there was something about this woman that drew his attention. Perhaps it was that she was beautiful. Or perhaps it was the way she walked, so focused and attentive. She seemed like the sort of sve whom a philosopher would find to be wise, or use as an illustrative example of sves’ virtue. Either way, he followed.

  The moth had no more idea of why Peleus was following this undistinguished sve than he did, but she took it as an opportunity anyway. Using all of her speed, she flitted forward, circling around a corner. To her good fortune, that hallway was empty for the moment, and she took it as an opportunity to change form. The moth nded, then exploded into shape, and in a matter of moments had taken on the rough, wrinkled form of an old sve-woman. She rushed forward, crossing paths with Peleus’s target.

  “Where are those going?” she asked.

  “To the Emperor’s chamber,” said the other. “They are his clothes.”

  The old woman grunted. “Let me handle it. Girls like you shouldn’t be in the Emperor’s chamber, or you’ll end up with another one of his bastards.”

  The woman with the basket swallowed visibly. “I’ve never heard about this.”

  The Emperor clenched his fists, ready to charge in and deliver a sve’s justice for the libel, until he remembered that he was invisible. Instead, in a fury, he wheeled around and wandered off elsewhere. The old sve-woman suppressed a grin.

  “I’m sure you’ll be able to help out in the kitchens,” she said, taking the basket. “Go along now. I’ll be fine.”

  They parted ways, and with Peleus no longer watching, the old woman had the perfect opportunity to walk until the corridor’s end and snap her fingers. Peleus’s clothes, as well as the basket, burst into white-hot fmes and were almost instantly reduced to ash. Then she shriveled and shrank away, and the moth resumed her previous course, following the invisible Emperor. He continued to wander as he had before, albeit with more frustration visible across his features.

  Eventually he found his way down, down to one of the small chapels that dotted the yout of the pace. There he crouched for a while, observing the comings and goings of all with an intellectual sort of voyeurism. The moth spent a moment considering what she would do next, until an idea came upon her. She vanished, fluttering away under the door.

  A short while ter, a woman appeared, formed into the shape of a young man. The one whose appearance she had stolen was named Phyleus, and he was a minor nobleman, one who had taken up a position within the higher echelons of the Imperial bureaucracy, and proven his loyalty to Peleus many a time since then. The false Phyleus wasted little time in finding a pce to pray. Firstly, and with magic so as to make her words inaudible to all but the gods, the false Phyleus apologized for an upcoming deceit, promising to make future recompense to the Golden Lord for making him listen to a prayer which she had no desire to have fulfilled. Then she dropped the spell, and after a moment spent making absolutely certain that Peleus was watching and listening, she began to speak again.

  “O Golden Lord, Lord of the Wise and Lord of Books, I beseech you, reach down from your heavenly pace and grant a measure of your fine judgement to my lord Peleus. Though he is a great warrior, he is a foolish man, and his foolishness does poor credit to the nation which you have selected to be the overlords of the world.”

  In this way she went on for some time, exalting the Golden Lord to, through his unlimited power, cure Peleus of his many and varied fws. Eventually, Peleus grew enraged once again, and as he could not smite the false Phyleus where she stood, he stormed off. Once he was gone, she spoke as rapidly as she could, repudiating her prayer and reiterating her promise to make recompense. Then, when none were looking, the false Phyleus dissolved, and a biting fly buzzed after the Emperor.

  So on and on it went. No part of the pace did escape Peleus’s invisible spying, but wherever he went Shirrin followed. In the form of a moth and a fly and a spider she pursued him, and in the form of a sve and a pace guard and an artisan and a eunuch did she deceive him, dispying disloyalty and discontent wherever he went. With every incident of compint exposed, Peleus’s vast ire increased, but he found that he could not strike without betraying his invisible power and worsening his position. More and more quickly he flitted from pce to pce, seeking out any corner where he might find perfect contentment, and ignoring every positive or neutral word said after his name in favor of the negative ones.

  Shirrin had known Peleus for decades, and in the twelve years since their separation she had only developed a greater understanding of his type of man. She knew well how to py him, how to needle at his vast ego. Several times she even saw him move to discard the ring entirely, only to shrink back and move on.

  He removed the ring only when dinner-time came, and then fumed all throughout the meal. When that was done, and with it all of the Emperor’s duties for the day, Peleus stormed back to his chamber, tore the ring off of his finger, and smmed it down upon his bed-side table. Shirrin, in the form of the moth, watched him a short while to ensure he was not about to do anything drastic. Once she was certain, she retreated into the hallway beyond, reverted to her habitual form, and knocked on Peleus’s chamber door.

  “Who is it?” Peleus said.

  “Shirrin of Trabakond, your loyal sve.”

  There was a moment of irritated hesitation. “Come in, as you please.”

  Shirrin entered, her posture and expression carefully deferential. “My master. I see you have made use of my ring of invisibility.”

  Peleus turned, a scowl still written across his face even as he tried to put forward an image of magnanimous strength. “Indeed I have; and I have learned a great deal. Perhaps too much. I do not know that I will use the ring too often, except at hours of great need.”

  “A wise decision, my master. Magic is a dangerous and capricious thing, especially for a novice such as yourself. It is only great experience that allows me to use magic as I do.”

  Peleus nodded, pacing across the room to a rge cabinet. He opened it, producing a decanter of fine apple-wine and a small gss. “For what reason have you come to me, then?”

  “As hypocritical as it may seem, I have come to propose a use of magic.”

  Peleus chuckled, pouring himself a small gss of the pale liquor before returning the bottle to its pce. “You have never proposed any magic before,” he said. “Why now? And what is this magic which is so important?”

  “I have thought a long while about what use of magic will most effectively better your strength and the strength of your country, my master. It was only recently that I came to my conclusion, and only today that I had completed the necessary preparation. May I show you?”

  Peleus gestured silently for her to continue. With a flicker of the hand, Shirrin drew from her sleeve a short-bded infantry sword. Peleus’s eyebrow raised, partially at the drawing of a weapon within his chamber, and partially at the impossibility of fitting such a bde under Shirrin’s tight sleeves.

  “This is no ordinary sword,” Shirrin expined. “It is one of Lord Ethirus’s Cws, charged with the ancient magic of the old gods.” She presented it handle-first to the Emperor. “Take it up, and you will understand its power.”

  Peleus finished off his gss of apple-wine and, intrigued, took the bde from Shirrin’s grasp. Instantly, he began to understand its power. He reeled back with the bde as though to smite Shirrin’s head from her shoulders, but quickly took reign of himself. He then stepped back and gave it a few agile swings; the bde left a faint red afterimage in the air wherever it was swung.

  “The wielder of one of Lord Ethirus’s Cws is gifted with tremendous strength and a battle-rage that will persist through any injury, even to the moment of death.”

  “Incredible,” said Peleus. “How many such weapons can you make?”

  “Now drop the sword.”

  Peleus did so instantly, almost before his conscious mind could understand her words. An instant ter, his expression of wonder was repced by fury. “What is the meaning of this?”

  “The Cws are bound to a master, who must be present at the swords’ creation. I am the master of that bde, rendering it useless to you. That is why I have come to you now: if you wish for the power of Lord Ethirus’s Cws to bless your own troops, I will require your participation in the ritual. But, of course, the creation of such a weapon is no easy task; it can only take pce under moonlight, and the rituals will take many hours. You must come with me, and you might not return until dawn.”

  Peleus stepped back from the bde, still frightened of the sorcerous compulsion which had, for the briefest instant, overridden his will. Would only that she had a more general mastery of the subversion of wills, Shirrin would not have to go to nearly so great a length to carry out her revenge. She stepped forward, bending down to take the sword and repce it within her sleeve while the Emperor considered.

  “How many could I make in a night?” he asked.

  “A score, perhaps. But even a tagma of troops armed with such bdes could easily be the match of ten times their number of enemies. No army could hope to beat yours.”

  The promise of victory caused Peleus’s expression to shift, very subtly. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I think this will be a good use of your magic.”

  “Of course, my master. Now come, we must be swift if we are to start with the setting of the sun; I have set up the ritual materials in a fallow field outside of the city walls. Bring a guard if you wish, though know that I can protect you against any danger.”

  “No, no guards. That will waste time, regardless.”

  Shirin knew that rumors had begun to spread of the unhealthy retionship between Peleus and the foreign witch. All the senators spreading the rumors had made use of her services, of course, but they had been discreet about it in a way the Emperor had not been. Having his guards spread rumors about the Emperor attending foreign rituals, well, that would not do.

  As Shirrin escorted the Emperor in the direction of the grand staircase, she paused briefly to gnce behind herself. Just as she thought, she had timed it perfectly. Two figures, cd in the light raiments of her entourage, were slipping through the Emperor’s doorway with nary a sound. Then Shirrin turned her gaze forward; Peleus could not be allowed to suspect a thing.

  SaffronDragon