The sigil the Dread Rings defined could never exist again—not in the conventional, three-dimensional world. But there were many more dimensions than that, even if people couldn’t ordinarily perceive them. Were it otherwise, the mortal plane and all the higher and lower worlds wouldn’t be able to coexist.
He dropped his staff to clatter on the roof and summoned a different one, fashioned of clear crystal, into his hand. Once, it had belonged to Yaphyll, the greatest seer he’d ever known; he’d found it sealed in a secret vault in the Tower of Vision after the zulkirs had abandoned Bezantur. It was the best tool he possessed for what he had in mind, which was no guarantee that it was powerful enough.
He brandished the glittering staff and recited words of power, and an image of the realm’s plains, plateaus, and mountains, the rivers,
akes, and seashore appeared floating in the air before him. Black dots designated the Dread Rings and the Citadel.
He spoke again, and the map shifted, although no one else would have seen it alter. That was because Szass Tam now viewed it in four dimensions, in a manner foreign to normal human perception. And the experience was all but intolerable, like looking directly at the sun. As a necromancer, Szass Tam was used to contemplating the bizarre, the hideous, and the paradoxical, but even so, this view spiked pain through his eyes and deep into his head.
He forced himself to keep peering anyway, until he had the information to make his calculations. Which revealed that four
dimensions were not enough. So he called for five and let out an involuntary groan. Five were
much worse than four, exponentially worse, perhaps. And five
weren’t sufficient, either.
So it was on to six, and then seven. Whimpering, shuddering, and jerking uncontrollably, he wondered if the mere act of observation could kill a man, even if the fellow was already dead. Given what he was suffering, he suspected it could, but even so, he refused to relent. He’d always known he was risking his existence by
undertaking the Great Work, and if he perished now, so be it.
Eight dimensions. Then nine. And nine were enough. When he took the proper two-dimensional cross section of that curved and infinitely complex space, the surviving Dread Rings and his present location fell into the proper positions relative to one another.