Isabelle were there. He searched for the mage energy characteristic of Galen, felt a vibration as he came close to it. He visualized his hand reaching out to grasp the energy, drawing it inside him. Then he searched for Isabelle and did the same.
For the location of their meeting he chose his circle of standing stones on a warm, bright day. The brilliant mist, the breeze, the ocean's sharp tang usually served to lighten his heart. Everything within the incantation had a sense of heightened intensity and significance. He ran a hand down the moss-covered stone beside him. Velvety, damp, it was a part of the planet, and a part of him.
Galen and Isabelle stood a few feet away. What he saw was not them, but their self-images, the way they imagined themselves to be. He was pleased to see that their heads were scoured. Their commitment to the Code had become part of their identity. Typically, their self-images looked a few years younger than they did. Galen's image was a little fuller in the cheeks, carrying the baby fat he'd had when he was eighteen. Elric remembered him then, just into the chrysalis, so eager, at last, to do what he'd studied for so long.
They looked well, and he took comfort in that. If something horrible had happened, he believed it would be revealed somehow in the self-image.
"You are well?" Elric asked.
"Yes," Galen said. "We've met the manager of the Strauss Hotel, and we've begun watching the Narn crew of the Khatkhata."
Elric's anxiety allowed him to wait no longer. He extended his arm and conjured an image of Morden standing beside him. "Have you seen this man?"
"No," Isabelle said.
But Galen nodded, and Elric's heart jumped. "I saw him in the tents at the convocation. Just for a minute."
"Did you speak with him?"