Retribution, p.23
Retribution, page 23
“Dicathen’s Dynamic Duo. You know, me and you, the Triple Ds.”
Deciding it was best not to engage Regis on this front, I said, “No time for the Relictombs yet. First, we need to make sure we can leave Vildorial without it immediately falling to Agrona’s forces.”
I gave Ellie a minute or two head start, then followed her out the door. Instead of heading toward the exit, I went deeper down into the Earthborn Institute.
As I’d expected, I found Gideon, Emily, and their team of dwarven mages already at work.
The old inventor barely spared me a glance as I walked into the lab, clearly unsurprised to see me. “I only saw you sixteen hours ago, at least four of which I spent sleeping. Nothing has changed in the meantime, Arthur.”
Emily, who was bent over the crystal-topped staff with a pair of wands, waved one at me. It gave a shrill, humming whistle. She jumped, grinned sheepishly, and moved it back into place.
“Gideon, I need you to gather whatever mana-output monitoring equipment you can scrounge up,” I said. “Meet me by the Three Lakes fishing outpost in an hour.”
Gideon slowly set down the notes he was perusing, stuck a finger in his ear and dug around for a bit, then shook his head and gave me a sickly-sweet smile. “Forgive me, Arthur, but I’d swear it seems like you just marched into my laboratory and started giving me orders without context or consideration for projects already underway—projects I have been repeatedly informed are of the highest priority by you yourself.”
Looking him dead in the eye, I continued. “Emily, I need you to track down Lances Mica, Varay, and Bairon, and bring them to meet us.”
She tapped the wands together twice, then laid them carefully next to the staff. “Sure, no problem.” As she moved past Gideon, she reached out and closed his mouth for him, which had been hanging open as he continued to stare at me.
He glared at her back as she headed out the door, but his attention quickly returned to me.
“This is more time sensitive than our other projects,” I said consolingly. “One hour, Gideon.”
“Bah,” he said, grumbling, but he started bustling around the lab grabbing things and throwing them onto an empty table. “An hour it is then. But why are you making me drag these old bones all the way down to Three Lakes?”
“See you there” was all I said in response before turning and leaving the lab myself.
My feet carried me quickly out of the Earthborn Institute, down the winding highway, past the crews rebuilding the many structures destroyed in the Alacryan assault, and out one of the tunnels that connected to the city’s bottommost level.
‘Are you sure this is all going to work?’ Regis asked. He’d been silently stewing on my refusal to even acknowledge his suggested team name for us, but his irritation has finally settled into a kind of resigned agreement to simply disagree.
It has to, I thought, although we both felt my lack of surety in the process itself. We can’t fight a war from under the desert. We need to get out there and push back against the Alacryan forces inhabiting Dicathen.
These thoughts brushed up against a wall of hesitancy in my mind. Because as much as I needed to leave, I also needed to stay. Vildorial was now the epicenter of the fight to reclaim Dicathen, and all the people of Sapin and Darv needed us. But everything I had done to keep the people of this city safe would be for naught if Agrona sent another attack while I was gone.
I needed the Lances here to protect the city in my absence, and in order for them to do that, they needed to break through their current restraints.
The tunnels between Vildorial and the Three Lakes area were cool and lightly traveled, meaning I was left in peace to mull through what I hoped to accomplish.
Mostly, I organized my thoughts, trying to remember everything I had heard about both sets of asuran artifacts: those given to Dicathen’s kings to make Lances, and these new ones that, apparently, could make a mage strong enough to fight back against even the Scythes.
Ellie had told me everything she could about the conversations between Virion and Windsom, and then later Rinia and Virion. And of course, the old elf himself had explained the Lance artifacts to me when he made me a Lance, but there was still much I didn’t understand about how the asura had created them.
These and many other thoughts occupied my mind until the air grew heavy with moisture and the smell of the underground lakes filled the tunnels. Brine, algae, and the heady odor of giant mushrooms combined to create an otherworldly scent like I was stepping out of Dicathen into a place older and more wild. The distant rumble of tumbling water could be felt through the floor soon after.
The tunnel was capped by a rough granite wall, but the gate through was open. Just inside it, several buildings huddled together around the edge of the first of the three lakes that gave this place its name. A stone pier ran along the edge, and a couple of square, flat-bottomed boats floated against it. But the outpost was empty today, as I had expected; most of Vildorial’s population was being kept in the city in case of another attack.
The cavern was enormous, even larger than the sanctuary. Although not as tall as the spiraling city of Vildorial, it stretched on and on, the first huge lake spilling into a second in a series of wide waterfalls, which in turn drained into the third almost a mile along the cavern.
As I walked between the empty buildings, I took it all in. Although the smell was something that would take some getting used to, there was an awe-inspiring sort of beauty to the place.
Regis jumped free of my body and strolled next to me. “Y’know, this almost reminds me of the Relictombs.”
“Maybe the djinn took inspiration from places like this,” I mused absently. “Or even created them.”
Along one edge of the lake, a forest of giant mushrooms sprouted up from mossy ground, and across from that, the cavern wall was patterned with striations of orange and white. Water drained across these salt deposits constantly, spilling into the lake and giving off the smell of brine I’d noticed before.
Deep in the dark water, bioluminescent creatures could be seen slowly trolling like dim stars crossing the night sky.
It was, at least for a short time, a pleasant distraction.
But it wasn’t long before footsteps announced the arrival of the others, and the spell was broken.
The Lances arrived first, moving with purpose. Mica led them. Her one remaining eye locked onto me the moment she crossed the threshold into the cave, just as hard as the black stone that inhabited the scarred socket of the eye Taci had ruined. Although at ease in the tunnels of her home, there was something missing from Mica; she had lost more than an eye when Aya died.
Varay was just behind her, towering over the dwarf, as stoic and unreadable as always. Her short white hair seemed to glow in the diffused light of the underground world, giving her a mystical air. Her conjured arm of magical ice was fixed and unmoving, but her flesh-and-blood hand fidgeted with a constant nervous energy, subtly undermining her otherwise indomitable presence.
Finally, Bairon entered a few yards behind them. His gaze trailed behind his companions’ heels, unseeing, or rather, seeing something other than uneven ground. I wondered where his thoughts were, what invisible scene was playing out before his unfocused eyes that made him frown so deeply.
I stood on the pier, Regis sitting on his haunches beside me, and waited for them to come to us.
Varay spoke first. “I hope you haven’t brought us all the way down here just to take us fishing,” she said, focusing on one of the boats floating behind me.
I gave a quiet laugh, drawing uncertain looks from the other Lances. “I actually learned to hone my reflexes and adjust my perception by catching fish with my bare hands when I was just a boy in…” I caught myself and let the thought trail off. “Anyway, no, I think you’re all well past that point in your training.”
“We are here for you to train us, then?” Mica asked, raising a brow and crossing her arms. “The Watsken girl was a little light on the details when she delivered your summons.”
“Not a summons,” I corrected gently, “an invitation. I think you all understand what is happening, what is at stake. When Agrona sent his Wraiths after me, he must have thought they were more than enough to capture or kill me, and likewise that two Scythes and a retainer would be able to regain control of Vildorial and mop up the rest of the resistance against him.”
“And it would have been,” Mica added, scowling. “Despite giving everything we had, all we could do was hold them off for a time. Without Bairon’s new weapon, we wouldn’t have lasted even as long as we did.”
“You think he’ll escalate again?” Varay asked, her fingers tapping constantly against her thigh.
“He will.” I began to pace back and forth in front of the three Lances, their eyes following me warily. “My defeat of the Wraiths and subsequent attack on Alacryan soil might give him pause, but not for long.” I stopped pacing suddenly, forcefully containing my nervous energy. “Although I stopped any of the Wraiths from returning to him with information, the fact that I was even able to kill them has given him a better understanding of my power.”
I took a moment to collect my thoughts, then said, “The truth is, you three just aren’t strong enough to protect this city without me.”
Varay went stiff as an ice statue. Her face didn’t betray her emotions, but the others were less capable of masking their surprise and frustration.
Mica ground her teeth and inadvertently made herself so heavy that the smooth, slightly slick stones of the pier cracked beneath her.
Bairon slammed the butt of his spear against the ground and stood tall, looking at me defiantly and reminding me firmly of his old self. “We can be, Arthur. And I assume you know that, otherwise you wouldn’t have brought us here.”
“I hope you’re right, Bairon,” I said, softening my tone. “Because, if you aren’t, then I don’t know how we can reclaim our homeland, defeat Agrona, and prevent any further assaults by Kezess Indrath.”
“Then let’s not waste any more time,” Bairon said, his chin turning up as his pride struggled against my words. “I will fight until my core cracks and my muscles give out if it will offer a chance at breaking past the barriers placed on us as Lances. Just tell us what you want us to do, Arthur.”
Not long ago, I would have marveled at the idea that the noble Bairon Wykes was so willing and open to following my lead, but even in my short time back, I could see just how much he had matured. The war had forged him into a true leader in a way neither of us could have expected, especially after he nearly died at Cadell’s hands.
“Thank you, Bairon, but this won’t be that kind of training,” I said.
Before they could ask questions, we all heard the grumbling approach of Gideon as he came through the open gate with Emily tottering along beside him underneath a pile of equipment. He wrinkled up his nose, presumably at the smell, and radiated pure irritation. “What in all the worlds you think we need to be down in this abyss for, I’ll never know.”
“Now that we’re all here, let’s get started,” I said, gesturing for everyone to follow me.
We circled around the edge of the lake until we were under the broad purple, green, and blue caps of the giant mushrooms. Varay and I—and to a lesser extent, Regis, who insisted on dragging a single leather satchel—helped Emily carry the equipment, then set it out on a series of flat boulders after Emily made a fuss of clearing the dirt and moss off. I directed the three Lances to take seats in the thick moss next to the still water of the lake.
While Gideon and Emily set about the task of readying their equipment, I addressed the Lances. “If we hope to break through the artificial barriers placed on you, we need to better understand them. The blood oaths you made don’t inherently limit your ability to grow stronger, that is something Kezess Indrath did when he originally gave Dicathen the Lance artifacts, and I can tell you exactly why, because I’ve seen Agrona do the same thing to his people.
“They’ve seen what lessers are capable of. They know we can reach far beyond them, given the chance.” I told them about the djinn, how they had gained insight into aether and mana beyond even what the dragons could do, and how, when Kezess couldn’t force them to share that insight, he had destroyed them.
Mica cursed. Bairon frowned thoughtfully down at his knees. Varay’s eyes were glued to me as she hung on every word I said.
“The asura expect—demand—control above all else. The Vritra clan breeds people like mana beasts, while Indrath just plays god from afar, poking and prodding our societies into the shape he desires, then, like a rageful toddler, knocking all his toys down if he gets upset.
“In giving Dicathen the Lance artifacts, Kezess assured that certain family lineages were kept safe and politically powerful while actively declining in magical strength—the true power of this world. He did this by giving them you. Powerful protectors that were bound by blood oath from betraying them. And yet still, to keep any one person or nation from growing too strong magically, he prevented you from getting powerful enough to be a threat to the asura clans.
“Agrona had a finer line to walk. He needed soldiers who could fight asura, whether that be the other clans still in Epheotus or his own people if they thought to turn against him. But he had to be certain they couldn’t ever grow strong enough to challenge him, and so he became the ultimate arbiter of who gets magic in Alacrya.
“The truth is, the asura don’t want us to make progress because they see it as an existential threat to their own dominion.”
Something made a splash in the middle of the lake, the ripples slowly moving outward and disrupting the mirrorlike surface.
Varay adjusted herself on the mossy ground. “You’ve spent more time with the asura than any of us, Arthur. We trust your judgment on this issue, but it does beg the question: what do we do about it?”
I held my hand out to her. She took it, and I pulled her to her feet. “I didn’t see it before, but the first dragon I ever met hinted at what was coming, and what the answer would be. She left a message embedded in the mana of my core but told me I would only hear it when I had reached beyond white core. It was a temptation she knew I couldn’t resist, a way to push me to a level far beyond what most mages would ever achieve.”
“And did you?” Varay asked, her hand a frigid claw around mine. “Is that how you gained your aetheric powers?”
I shook my head. “My core shattered, releasing the message before its time, and my chance of passing beyond white core is gone. But”—I activated Realmheart, seeing the reflection of the glowing lavender runes on the surface of Varay’s eyes—“yours isn’t, and I believe Kezess himself has given us the key to unshackle your true potential.”
396
LIMITLESS
Varay remained utterly still as my hand rested over her sternum. With Realmheart active, I could see the purified mana like translucent snowflakes compacted within her core, perfectly controlled and radiating with purpose. The particles were steadily being distilled and released back into her body through her channels to strengthen her physical form and keep the conjured arm in place.
Along with the ability to see mana, Realmheart replicated the ability a mana core provided to sense mana in others, allowing me to feel the crushing weight and glacial steadiness of Varay’s core radiating out from her.
I closed my eyes, focusing on this second sense.
“Release a small burst of mana,” I said quietly, then followed along as purified water mana—now sparkling motes of its deviant ice form within Varay’s core—raced out through her mana veins and into the atmosphere. “Now, draw on the ambient mana and focus on purifying it inside your core. Specifically, think about clarifying your core itself.”
Varay took a steady breath in. I opened my eyes to watch the particles of atmospheric mana—almost all water and earth—be pulled into her body and then her core, just like how her lungs drew in the air. Within the snow-white core, the mana was quickly purified and made ready for her use.
I asked her to repeat this process a couple of times, then moved on to Bairon. He studied me carefully as I pressed my hand to his sternum. I was surprised by the smoky tinge to his otherwise bright white core.
“Does your core or your mana feel any different now than before Cadell attacked you with soulfire?” I asked, watching closely as he released mana, took a stiff breath, and then drew it back in.
He repeated the exercise again before answering. “I’m not sure how to answer that question. I had to work tirelessly to rebuild my strength after that battle, and I nearly gave up and accepted my fate.”
“Physically though…when you channel mana now, do you feel anything different in your core?”
He closed his eyes as he repeated the cycle two more times. “I’m not confident that I’ve regained all my strength,” he said eventually. “But I also don’t remember if the magic felt any different before.”
Nodding silently, I moved on to Mica. As my hand pressed against her sternum, her lips curved up into a cool smirk. “I told you once before, I’m too old for you.”
Regis was watching from the rocks where Gideon and Emily had laid out their equipment. He chuckled appreciatively. “And much too pretty, too.”
She cast a surprised look over her shoulder, then turned a raised brow in my direction. “Is that tiny creature trying to flirt with me?”
“Actually, he’s an asuran weapon of mass destruction, and he flirts with everyone,” I said matter-of-factly. “Now focus. Release your mana, hold it, then draw ambient mana back in.”
I couldn’t sense whatever mechanism Kezess had used to put a ceiling on the Lances’ potential, but I hadn’t expected it to be that easy. Moreso, I needed to establish some baseline in the feel of each Lance’ particular core and mana manipulation.
All three were incredibly efficient at both releasing and reabsorbing mana. Whatever hampered them, it seemed specifically designed so it wouldn’t interrupt the process of actually using magic.
