Threshold by Sara Douglass

I’d worked the glass for the two Magi in Setkoth. Had this then been the Soulenai speaking to me through the glass, rather than the glass itself?
    Isphet watched my face, then continued. “Glass-workers – we in this room – are particularly attuned to the voices of the elements and Elemental magic because of the metals used in the making and colouring of glass. Any who hear the elements’ voices or who practise the Elemental arts are known simply as Elementals. Once there were great magicians – Necromancers – among us, many descended from the bloodlines of the Soulenai themselves. The Necromancers attained a level of power that left ordinary Elementals gasping; Necromancers were only one level below the Soulenai in understanding and skill. But they have vanished, and we lesser Elementals must make shift as we may.”
    Isphet looked to Yaqob, her eyes tender. “Yaqob has great talent, and I hope that eventually he may master the arts of the Necromancers. I pray that he will, if one day we can find him the teachers…”
    Her voice drifted into silence, then she shook herself and continued. “Among the other workers in Gesholme, the ranks of the metalworkers, as you would expect, and those few gemworkers in Gesholme have Elementals among them who still listen to the voices of the elements and the Soulenai as they craft. But of them Yaqob will speak later.
    “Ashdod was a wondrous land when many could hear the elements, when the Soulenai were able to speak and laugh as they desired, and when we still had the great Necromancers to work their wonders for us. The people of Ashdod would consult with the Necromancers and the Soulenai for advice, or to beg their favour and intervention in our lives. We did not worship the Soulenai as gods, but we learned to respect them and to accept the advice and aid they were willing to offer. The crafts flourished, for it was among the crafts that Elemental magic was at its strongest.
    “So Ashdod society existed for hundreds of years. But then came a change. The higher caste of Ashdod societyhas ever been inclined to the philosophical arts and less inclined to listen to the voices of the Soulenai.” Isphet shrugged slightly. “In that sense, Elemental magic has always been strongest among the lower castes rather than the nobility. Anyway, over generations there grew among the nobility a taste for mathematics, and eventually this taste solidified into a caste. Men only, for they claimed that women did not have the agility of mind to embrace the myriad complexities of numbers and forms. As I told you on your first night, Tirzah, the Magi, as these mathematicians came to be known to distinguish them from the Elemental Necromancers, command power through contemplation of the One, and of all numbers and forms that the One generates.
    “Gradually their power and influence increased. The Magi loathed the magic of the Elementals, because they said it was unpredictable, reliant on chance and the whims of the Soulenai. Their magic, they claimed,” and Isphet’s voice became hard and brittle, “was powerful because of its very predictableness and because, once its rules and parameters were understood, it could be manipulated to the Magi’s needs. They work their magic according to set rules ! Tables! Parameters! Can you imagine that?
    “Their influence over the nobility and the monarchy increased, and eight or nine generations ago they moved against us, moved to destroy Elemental magic. Life became ordered – you have seen fields and gardens locked into rigid geometric shapes, the length and angle of their borders carefully defined according to the Magi’s dictates – and any Elementals caught practising their arts were put to death.
    “Tirzah, never let the Magi know you can hear the glass sing to you, for they would kill you on the spot.”
    I nodded.
    “And so,” Isphet waved one hand about, “we practise in secret as best we can. Most Magi believe that allElementals have