Beneath the alabaster sp.., p.29
Beneath the Alabaster Spire, page 29
Thea’s eyes went wide. “It could be… Oh… that makes more sense than what I originally thought…” She rushed to get her folder with the images of the scroll in it, and spread them on the table, tapping the image of the sleeping Argent. “I thought this was a metaphor, but I don’t think any of this is metaphorical, not really.”
Enzo shrugged as he traced the images with his fingers. “I’m afraid not.”
“So the Argent is the battery for the spell?” Petra asked, horrified.
Enzo nodded. “Essentially—their nervous system is likely the conduit for the power, the base of the root—like a battery pack. And their brain controls the distribution of power. The harvest from the season’s ritual is likely funneled into the firedrake, and then stored to be used throughout the year.”
“That is gruesome,” Harlow whispered.
Enzo nodded. “It is. They fell out of fashion in the modern age because of their cruelty, but they are powerful spells.”
“If they were used mainly in industrial applications in the past, what is this one being used for now?” Larkin asked.
“There are more theoretical applications…” Enzo trailed off, his eyes narrowing as he thought. “Such as using them as complex bindings, ways to create things like prisons or barriers.”
Prisons or barriers? Like Nihil? Things pieced together. “Could it be used to create a barrier between planes of reality?” Harlow breathed.
“What?” Finn asked.
She turned to him. “You said when the Illuminated came here that they were meant to free aether—to make humans more powerful to fight in the wars they were fighting on their home world, right?”
Petra nodded, following Harlow’s train of thought. “Yes, and that means there must have been a source of aether on Okairos somewhere—a big one that didn’t exist on other worlds. Something special.”
“Like Nihil,” Harlow said. “The prison is built on the heart of the limen, the actual source of aether. I don’t think you and Cian were wrong about the Pyriphle. I think the river does go right into Nihil—to the prison—and Ashbourne. We have a door to not only the limen here on Okairos, but the heart of all magic.”
“Is that even possible?” Petra asked.
Enzo nodded. “It is. Metaphysics tells us that it’s likely the limen opens and closes portals all the time. The problem is, they’re not supposed to stay open. Of course, there are stories…”
“About what?” Petra prodded, clearly getting frustrated. Axel grumbled in her lap.
Thea sighed. “That there are anomalies. Portals opened to other realms that stay open, creating massive imbalances in the universe, allowing certain elemental energies to grow far beyond their natural size and power.”
“Like the Ravagers,” Harlow said. “Something made them uncontrollable.”
“What are you talking about?” Enzo asked.
Harlow glanced at Finn. “You have to tell them the whole truth about The Warden. They need to know.”
He nodded and recounted the entire story of The Warden, explaining that the Illuminated were the Ventyr, a race of beings so powerful they’d imprisoned the elemental embodiments of suffering in the universe. The reality of the Ventyr’s influence in the world, their corner of the cosmos, was overwhelming enough.
Petra’s eyes went wide. Of course she had to know much of this, but Harlow had gotten the impression the finer details of many things weren’t told to Illuminated women. She smacked Finn’s shoulder and Axel growled, protective of Finn. “You knew this and never told me?”
“It was dangerous to know. It still is,” he explained.
“We can’t open a portal to Nihil, Harlow,” Thea said, horror on her face. “If this is right, about the ritual at the root of the season, we can’t risk disturbing whatever spell the Illuminated did to create it. They were right to close it.”
Enzo frowned. “We wouldn’t have to open the source up completely, just remove the barrier—whatever’s keeping the aethereal energy restricted.”
Thea shook her head. “No, that’s too risky. We have no idea what might come through with it, or who it might draw to us. It might send a signal of some kind to the Ventyr. We have no clue what kind of tech they have, or if they’re looking for a way to get to Okairos.”
“Would they even still care about us?” Larkin asked. “It’s been two thousand years.”
Alaric shook his head. “We’re young, all of us. We don’t really have perspective on how time will work for us, later in life. Two thousand years might not be much time for them.”
Petra drew a sharp breath in. “Our parents act like our lifetimes have been nothing but a short blip—the Ventyr could very well still be looking for a way to conquer Okairos. I think Thea might be right.”
Harlow sighed. “There’s only one way to figure this out for sure, Thea. We have to find out where it is and go look. Now might be our only chance.”
Thea threw her hands up into the air. “Well, that solves it then. We’ll just figure out where the entrance to Nihil is.”
“Beneath the Alabaster Spire,” Larkin said, a faraway look in her eyes. She was obviously thinking about Ashbourne. She still hadn’t had any luck getting in touch with him.
“The Alabaster Spire?” Enzo repeated. “Is that where it is?”
Harlow nodded, telling them about the inscription on the crypt. Enzo smiled. “Well then, that’s easy enough. You should have asked me before.”
A little scream built in Harlow’s throat, but she tamped it down. Now wasn’t the time to explain that she’d been paranoid while she’d been pretending that Finn might have been unfaithful to her in Nuva Troi.
Enzo continued, apparently oblivious to her expression. “Right around the time the Illuminated got here, there was an earthquake in this region and a bunch of buildings fell—at least that’s the logical explanation. There’s an old Sterlisian legend that at least one actually disappeared: the Alabaster Spire.”
All of her frustration dissolved. Harlow thought back to dinner with Connor. “It was a part of the Temple of Akatei, wasn’t it?”
Enzo nodded. “Yes, part of what is now the library. How did you know?”
Harlow met Finn’s eyes. “Your father was very worried that I’ve been spending time there. When I mentioned the statue in the courtyard, he got very upset. There’s an inscription on Akatei’s hands.”
“That’s where we have to look first,” Finn said. “Who’s coming with me?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The moons were waning and would soon go dark, and the night threatened rain. Getting into the library’s courtyard was easy enough. Probably a little too easy, if Harlow was being honest with herself. Everyone else had stayed at home, to limit their risk of being caught.
Finn’s fingers laced through hers, and she was so happy he was home, but that happiness was marred by everything else going on, and the risk they were taking, being here now. They’d been crouched in the courtyard near a potted plant for almost ten minutes while she and Finn both probed the building’s threads for guards. It was an excruciatingly detailed task, and as the building was practically empty, it was also boring.
“There’s one Ultima,” Finn finally whispered. “She’s at the furthest edge of the stacks now, in the basement. That gives you enough time to get into the fountain, read the inscription on Akatei’s hands, and get back. I’ll keep watch.”
“Why do I have to get in the fountain?” Harlow asked, a little grumpy about having to get wet.
Finn kissed her nose. “You’re a sorcière. I’m not. If there’s any chance that the fountain might be a key to something big, it would make sense that it’d be warded. I might set them off, but if anyone is getting through without an issue, it would be a sorcière.”
Harlow had to agree, but there was no guarantee that she would get through. She felt for wards, and found none, but that didn’t mean they didn’t exist. Many skillfully woven wards couldn’t be detected until tripped, by even the most accomplished practitioners. There was only one way to find out.
“Okay, I’m going in.”
Finn was right behind her as she darted into the courtyard. She took long strides through the fountain, trying her hardest not to make splashing noises. She’d never been good at muffling spells, but she summoned her shadows to cloud around her and Finn.
She climbed atop the statue’s base. The statue of Akatei was half a head taller than her, so it took a moment to read what was inscribed on her hands, since the sentence was split up. It was written in old Sterlisian, but Harlow was well versed in Nytran languages. When bonfires light the ridge… The way will open.
That was it. That was all it said. Harlow turned to get down, and stopped, spotting the rest of the inscription. The words were written in the dark shadow of the statue herself. Because of the hedge that grew behind her, this was the only view by which they could be read.
“What are you doing?” Finn hissed.
“There’s something written around the inside edge of the fountain, can you give me some light?”
“That’s risky,” he said.
“Okay, well, use your phone’s flashlight then.”
He tried it, but there wasn’t enough light. Harlow sighed, and tried to get her shadows to illuminate more, but their faint glow wasn’t enough to see by.
“The Ultima is headed this way,” Finn growled. “Get out of there.”
“Not until I read it.”
He glared at her, but his hand glowed as he stuck it into the water, lighting the entire fountain in a gentle glow. The world between worlds lies just beyond knowledge. Beware what lies beneath the Alabaster Spire, for all reward comes at a price. Awaken the Fifth Order and find freedom in unraveling.
A harsh voice broke the silence in the courtyard, nearly sending Harlow tumbling from the statue. “What in Akatei’s name are the two of you doing?”
Harlow recognized the Ultima—Morgaine had said her name was Samira. She wasn’t dressed in her uniform though, and for a moment Finn looked confused.
“Get out of here. Now,” Samira insisted. She stepped into the fountain, pulling Harlow down off Akatei, shoving her towards Finn.
“Don’t come back here again,” she warned.
In the bushes, something moved. Harlow searched for the source of the sound, but couldn’t find anything. Finn’s arms went around her. “The Ultima is coming this way. We have to go.”
Harlow frowned, trying to wrap her mind around what was happening. Wasn’t Samira the Ultima he’d been tracking? He seemed to sense her question and shook his head. “I didn’t even see her coming.”
“Go,” Samira whispered.
Finn made the jump, and as the courtyard dissolved in her vision, Harlow saw the bushes move again. An enormous auburn cat—the one who’d been visiting Axel—leapt towards another creature, snarling. Samira lunged for the creature the cat was attacking, in an almost coordinated strike. As though she and the cat were fighting together. Just as the courtyard disappeared almost completely, Harlow caught the briefest glimpse of the creature’s face. It was a dog.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
They teleported straight into the Vault, much to everyone’s surprise. Harlow couldn’t be sure exactly what had happened at the Temple of Akatei. Why hadn’t she or Finn sensed Samira, and what had she been doing there? And what had happened right before they left? What was Axel’s feline friend doing there and what was it attacking?
The explanation for their sudden return sparked an argument, which Harlow tried to ignore as she thought. She needed a moment to process what she’d seen, and the bickering was distracting. Thea wasn’t happy about them being caught, and she and Finn argued over what Samira had been doing in the library after hours, when she clearly wasn’t on duty.
Harlow searched for a pen and wrote down the entire inscription for Alaric, who began running several searches on what he felt were the keywords from the inscription. She turned over the incident with the cat, trying to sort out what she’d seen. It didn’t make much sense to her, but she was sure that Samira and the cat were working together somehow. The idea was beyond far-fetched. Of course cats were, as all animals on Okairos were, extremely intelligent. But if what she knew she had seen made any sense, that would mean they were somehow communicating to one another.
Larkin read the inscription several times and smiled. “The bonfires refer to the Hallowed Moon. That's an old Sterlisian tradition.”
Enzo nodded. “She’s right. And I agree that the world between worlds must be the limen—and ‘just beyond knowledge’ has to be the library, right?”
Harlow nodded, letting her thoughts about the cat go for now. “That’s smart. Just beyond knowledge could be the courtyard, couldn’t it?”
Thea and Finn had quieted now, listening as Alaric chimed in. “If the Fifth Order is supposed to be humans, then does that mean we have to do as the Scroll shows? Free magic?”
Thea gritted her teeth. “Perhaps, but the inscription is pretty clear that there will be a price to pay—an unraveling. That sounds sinister as fuck.”
Harlow smiled at her sister’s language. “Yes, but there’s consequences to anything. Wouldn’t the risk be worth it to be not beholden to the Illuminated any longer?”
She didn’t expect Finn’s response. “We’ve never known a world in conflict, Harlow. How can we choose that for everyone on our own?”
Her idealism fell away. He was right, and he was wrong at the same time. They shouldn’t make this choice on their own. They shouldn’t choose this fate for humans—whatever the Fifth Order awakening entailed, a group of immortals shouldn’t be the ones who chose it.
But Finn didn’t—no, couldn’t—understand that humans and the lower Orders lived in a world full of conflict at all times. It was a quiet conflict, to be sure, but the silent screams she’d seen on the faces of her human friends every day of the years she’d spent with Mark shouldn’t be dismissed so easily. Oppression didn’t always look like riots in the streets.
It looked like humans making their monthly blood donations, having their reproductive choices micromanaged by people who had no business doing so. It looked like separate sectors of every Okairon city divided into Orders and humans, and a country like Falcyra that was allowed to prey on humans without interference. And that’s why they shouldn’t decide for the rest of the world. They had to find a way to get human input on this, and let them guide the way to change things.
“So we’ll let the Hallowed Moon pass,” Harlow said, finally.
Everyone was silent, but there were nods around the table.
“There’s one every year,” Thea reasoned. “Don’t look so sad. Larkin, show her what you found tonight.”
Larkin’s smile was wary. “I’ve been curating Nox’s monthly CCTV collection from Nuva Troi.”
“Her what?” Enzo asked.
Alaric explained. “Nox has a program that collects anomalies in Nuva Troi’s CCTV—things that are out of place. Stuff like graffiti before it gets cleaned, odd traffic patterns, sometimes even people who shouldn’t be in certain places at certain times…”
Enzo nodded. “Okay. I get it. What did you find, Larkin?”
She turned her laptop around. Dozens of photos of five rings, looped together in a chain, played on loop on her screen. “This has been appearing in lots of places for the last month. Five rings—it could be the symbol for the Fifth Order.” Some looked as though they’d been spray painted, others were worked into things like flyers, or other signs. “I refined the search once I saw the initial grouping—look at this.”
Five images isolated on the laptop screen. “Those are all Haven locations,” Alaric said.
“And they’re painted on the inside of the windows, not the outside,” Larkin said with a smile.
“So tell us what you think this all means,” Petra said, grinning. She liked that Larkin had a theory.
Larkin smiled back at Petra, proud of herself. “There’s a human resistance that aren’t the Humanists already—and I think Cian is working with them.”
“How do you know?” Finn asked.
Larkin enlarged the darkest of the images. The camera was focused on the glass of the window itself, but as it clarified, it was clear that CCTV had caught the actual moment this particular link had been applied. A hand pressed the appliqué to the glass. It was dark, and the image was fuzzy, but there was no denying it. The person in the window had a bright shock of silver hair.
Larkin played the video that still had originated from. It was hard to make out, but at the end the figure looked right out the window and a passing car illuminated their unique eyes, which reflected silver light into the dark.
“That’s definitely Cian,” Finn said. “Why wouldn’t they tell us this?”
Harlow slipped her hand into his. “Maybe they started working with them more recently. Like while you were both back in the city. It was dangerous to share information then.”
The lights in the Vault flickered for a mere second. Larkin turned her laptop around and frowned. “The internet’s not working.”
“That’s not even possible down here,” Alaric said, opening his own laptop. He shook his head. “Try it on your phones.”
Thea was already on it. “It doesn’t work.”
Alaric raced to Cian’s office. When he came back his eyes were wide. “The web and phone lines, even the hard lines, are down all over Okairos.”
Finn picked up his phone, tried to make a call and then slammed it down on the table. They hadn’t been able to get through to anyone in Nuva Troi since the email from Nox had come through, but calls to elsewhere had been working.
