Paragons of Ether

by Ryan Muree

  The room was circular and built of glistening skystone. Avrist had adorned the walls with paintings of previous locator Casters, emblems, and sigils. His highwood lacquered desk was neat with a writing utensil and an empty stein. The dark chair made of oiled hol-hide had been pushed in.

  No work. No files or books. The drawers had nothing of interest.

  The Messenger. Avrist would’ve had his own Messenger for correspondence.

  He spun, looking along the walls for the receptacle.

  Two boards pinned with papers were mounted in the area near the fire. A table sat below those boards covered in rolled parchment, grimoires, and more papers. The Messenger was there on the wall.

  Grier moved toward it, keeping an ear to any approaching footsteps, and began filing through the papers carefully. He had permission to investigate Avrist, but he still wanted the freedom to search where he wanted without Dova getting too nosy about it.

  The papers were of maps of towns across Revel and old letters with tabulations of something. Nothing stood out, and it would take weeks to sort through it all.

  He shuffled more into his hands.

  A map made of fibrous weeds, an old method for making paper before m’ralli was refined, had been relegated to the bottom. It had heavy brown county borders and was written in old Revelian. It probably should’ve been stored in an archive somewhere rather than sitting under a ton of paperwork.

  His fingers followed the borders—too straight and near-perfect to be accurate. Two ran through the center of the library, another set ran through Neeria, and also through several other towns in Revel. All the lines crossed over one other line in a recurring crisscross pattern.

  These weren’t county borders. Stadhold was one large county before it became its own self-governing nation. It was never split through the center.

  He shoved a few smaller papers aside. The map included Ingini from before the separation. Lines crisscrossed there, too. In the center, on the edges, across all of their towns, one near Gruskul Mines.

  He looked for a title or some label on the map. Scattering a few more papers to the floor, he flipped it over and found some words scrawled across the top:

  Ether bonds. Origin unknown.

  Discovered by Nimmluus Jandru. /:

  Ether bonds? He turned the map over again and eyed the connection at Gruskul Mines in Ingini. Of course, it hadn’t been labeled Gruskul that long ago, but it sat where two lines crossed. Were ether bonds the mines? That would mean the connections of all lines across the continent would be other sources of raw ether.

  And why would Avrist have this?

  He glanced at Neeria. Two lines connected beneath it.

  He flipped the map over again. That symbol he’d seen before but couldn’t place where.

  With the map tucked under his arm, he searched through the other papers. The symbol occurred everywhere after signatures and labels. The messages were copies addressed to someone else in Revel, someone named Silver.

  As in Silverfox?

  The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

  Most messages were just lists of numbers and were signed by… Dova.

  He shuffled through more.

  Numbers. Cities.

  Wait.

  If those points on the map were of raw ether, then that meant there were hundreds of mines beneath Revel. A massive source of power.

  Was Revel considering moving to ether-fuel like Ingini?

  If Avrist could sense ether in people, was he helping the RCA find mines for them to draw ether from?

  The Librarian would be furious. And he’d swear on his bracer that Silver was Silverfox.

  Finally, one Messenger letter from Silver was addressed to Dova.

  This is an interesting turn of events. I was disappointed Avrist couldn’t get her on my ship, but this is better. If his pilot’s report is true, stop the original plan and I’ll go get her and take her to Khendell myself. Don’t tell the others and don’t let Jgenult find out.

  His hands shook.

  He glanced at the glimmering date on the edge of the letter. It was marked one day after the Battle of Marana.

  They were talking about Emeryss. They had to be.

  My ship.

  Orr had sent his ship to retrieve Emeryss, and they’d suspected it wasn’t to get her back to Stadhold.

  That meant Silver was General Orr. General Orr and Avrist were working together and had been talking about Emeryss. And whoever the ‘others’ were didn’t include Jgenult. So, Jgenult wasn’t in on any of this. Avrist was working behind their backs, and…

  Avrist had died, but Avrist’s pilot had seen something and had reported it back to Dova.

  Avrist’s pilot would have been in Marana with him in the battle and saw…

  His stomach dropped.

  Emeryss. Had they’d seen her cast?

  The Zephyrs had gone straight into Ingini after that, but she’d been sitting out in the open this whole time in Neeria. None of them knew she was alive. He hadn’t told a soul, but… would they find out?

  Heart racing, he hurried through the other letters to find any evidence they’d found her, but there was nothing. No other contact had been made. No messages. No word other than stupid data tables of mines.

  With too many things to keep straight, he rolled up the map, grabbed a ribbon from the table, and tied it around. He folded up the letters to and from Silver, the most recent data tables…

  “Hey!” The panicked voice had come from behind.

  He spun, and Dova’s slight frame stood twenty feet away. Her round glasses sat crookedly on her nose, her dark strands of hair were slipping out of their tie, her robes were crimped as if she’d slept in them. She looked a mess, save for the thick book she held in her hand like it was a weapon.

  He straightened and stared her down. “You’ve been working behind the Librarian’s back with Orr?”

  Her mouth dropped, along with the book. “I—What?”

  He crossed the gap between them, releasing the map and papers to the floor, grabbing her by the collar and pushing her against the back wall. “What do you know about Emeryss?”

  She squeaked, her lips quivering. “Why do you care? She’s dead, right?”

  Grier froze.

  Dova lifted her chin. “She’s not, is she?”

  “She died—”

  “She didn’t. Just like you didn’t, and the other Zephyrs in that report.”

  He lifted her with two hands. “If you—”

  “I was following orders—”

  “That’s not an excuse!”

  “When you came back, RCA found some of the Zephyrs, too. They knew you hadn’t died—”

  “And what about Emeryss?”

  “Orr’s been looking for her.”

  He could kill Orr with his bare hands. He feared what Orr knew, but he had to know for sure.

  “What did the pilot see?” he urged. “Why does Orr want her?”

  Her hazel eyes darted back and forth between his. “She-she-she casted. She broke the cannon in Marana.”

  He could have punched a hole through the wall. “And you told Orr?”

  She swallowed. “I-I had to. Avrist told me to. He said to report everything to S-Silver—”

  “To General Orr!”

  She nodded quickly, repeatedly, blinking, too. “The p-pilots didn’t tell anyone else. They work for him, but I swear no one else knows.”

  She’d said it like it should have been a comfort, like he should have been pleased by that fact.

  “He’s the enemy!”

  She shook her head repeatedly. “No! She was in danger of being caught by the Ingini. He thought she’d be safe in Khendell with the others! That’s why he announced her death, too!”

  “Safe?” he shouted.

  She shrugged away from him as much as she could with her back against a wall.

  “Orr is behind the war,” he pressed. “For creating the war, for power—”

&nb
sp; “No!”

  Grier stopped again, pieces clicking into place in his head.

  Safe with the others. What others?

  “What did you mean by safe with the others?”

  She sniffled. “Uh, uh, the-the untrained Scribes.”

  He could have sworn his heart had stopped. “Untrained Scribes? Orr has untrained Scribes?”

  She nodded and pointed to the papers in his hands. “If he didn’t, they would have been kidnapped and tortured by the Ingini. They would have been killed. He’s keeping them safe across Revel—”

  The tables. The lists and lists of cities and numbers. They were untrained Scribes?

  He gestured behind him, to the letters he’d dropped on the floor in his haste to corner her. “Those are numbers of people? Not mines?”

  Her eyebrows drew in together. “Mines? No, those are future Scribes being kept safe.”

  Not safe. Not safe with murderous, traitorous Orr. And untrained Scribes… “Children?”

  She nodded slowly. “Of course. They can’t defend themselves.”

  He rolled his eyes shut. If he could’ve breathed fire, he would have. “Avrist was helping Orr find these children, so he could kidnap them?”

  She gasped, the confusion in her eyes replaced by anger. “Goddess, no! He was protecting them. When the war got worse, he started gathering them to keep them safe with the RCA.”

  He stepped back and wiped his hand over his face. There was too much to process. Too much to focus on. “How do you know all of this? Why keep it from Jgenult?”

  “Caster Avrist had tried. She wasn’t listening to him—”

  “But you… You’re all over the paperwork. Why would Orr even listen to you?” Hidden in plain sight. “You’re his replacement.”

  Her eyes went wide. “N-no—”

  “You’re his replacement. You’re a locator Caster. That’s why all those letters are addressed from you. That’s why you kept reporting to him. You’re next in line. You’re the new locator Caster.”

  Tears formed in her eyes.

  “Are you all working against us?” he demanded.

  “No,” she sobbed. “It was for my protection, too!”

  She’d said enough. She’d been lied to, or she thought she was good at convincing him. Either way, it was wrong.

  This was a nightmare. Secret locator Casters. Ingini creating secret tech to trade to Revel. Revel hiding children for Goddess knows what. All for power. All for Orr. And Emeryss was caught in the middle. They’d seen her cast in Marana. They’d been searching for her…

  “Do they know where Emeryss is now?” he asked, giving her a few feet of room.

  She eased off the wall, adjusting her robes. “They thought she would have gone into hiding or because of her casting try to blend in with Revel.”

  So, they hadn’t found her yet. Hopefully, she was still in Neeria. But she was in danger. Orr would check there eventually.

  And these children.

  After picking up the papers and the map, he made for the door. “Let’s go.”

  Her eyes widened again. “Go?”

  “Now.”

  “Where?”

  “First, Jgenult, and then to find these children.”

  “But, they’re safe, I promise! I wouldn’t condone—”

  “Out. Now!” He gestured his head at the door he held open for her. “Or I’ll pick you up, too.”

  She straightened her narrow shoulders and posture, lifted her chin in a huff, and followed through the door.

  Dova might not have condoned it, but Orr had lied to Adalai, to his army, to his people. There was no telling what that man was capable of until Grier saw that those children were safe and protected with his own eyes.

  And Emeryss.

  Grier would contact her, warn her to leave Neeria as soon as he was out of Stadhold. He knew she didn’t need him to protect her, but he’d sure feel better if he knew she was safe.

  They entered the main hall, ignored the guard requesting the purpose of their visit, and burst through Jgenult’s office doors.

  “Grier!” His mother shouted. She’d been leaning over Jgenult’s desk. “You can’t just keep barging into places because you think—”

  “Librarian Jgenult.” He ignored his mother and focused purely on her.

  “Grier, what is this?” She gestured to his overstuffed arms. “Have you started investigating already?”

  He dumped the papers on her desk—the maps, the letters. The letters to Emeryss, however, he’d made sure his mother saw him place in a loop of his bracer.

  She withered slightly and looked away.

  “Librarian, this is all correspondence between Avrist and Orr.”

  Her eyes wandered over the papers and back to him.

  “He’s been tracking untrained Scribes.”

  “As is his job, Grier.” Jgenult thumbed through a few tables and lists.

  “He’s been giving them to Orr—”

  “For their protection!” Dova added.

  Jgenult swallowed visibly, and her eyes peered up at him over her glasses. “What?”

  “He’s been gathering children and giving them to Orr. Considering what we know about Revel handing over grimoires, trading tech, and slaughtering civilians, I think you understand my concern for their safety.”

  Her mouth hung open slightly. The most non-composed response he’d ever seen from her.

  He reached back and shoved Dova forward.

  “Dova?” Jgenult’s eyebrow lifted.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Dova’s presence was like a mouse compared to Jgenult's. “It’s true, but I don’t think the children are in danger. Avrist told me they’re being kept safe until they’re old enough for retrieval.”

  Jgenult slowly leaned forward, fixed eyes glaring. “He’s spoken to me about this idea before, just in theory. I denied it repeatedly—”

  “Yes, ma’am, that’s why I wasn’t allowed to tell you.”

  Grier stepped closer. “As far as I can tell, there might not even be a Scribe shortage. And with his own set of Scribes, Orr controls the grimoires.”

  And Orr wanted Emeryss, so he could figure out how she’d done it without grimoires, too.

  “How many children are we talking about?” Lerissa asked, reminding Grier of her presence.

  “Well over a hundred,” Grier said to Jgenult.

  “What?” Jgenult slammed her hands down on the desk and jumped up.

  “If I’m being honest, there’s actually two hundred seventy-two,” Dova replied.

  Jgenult’s head tilted as if poised to snap Dova up as a snack, and she wilted in response.

  “I believe she was just following orders,” Grier interrupted. “And as I’ve been saying, that seems to be a problem around here.”

  Jgenult’s eyes fluttered to his before she regained her composure. “What do you want to do, Grier?”

  “I want to find them, get them out, and either return them to their parents or bring them here for refuge. I don’t believe they’re being kept safe.”

  Jgenult’s nostrils flared. “With all this new information being kept from me, I would have to agree. So, what do you need?”

  “Some grimoire tokens, an airship, and a pilot to fly us.”

  “Us?”

  “Dova’s coming with me.”

  “Why?” Jgenult narrowed her eyes at him and then settled on Dova.

  “She’s the new locator Caster,” he said. “She was his replacement.”

  “What?” Jgenult snarled. Her face had flushed a bright red. The muscles in her neck strained as her hands tightened into fists. “And when were you going to reveal yourself? We’ve been without a locator Caster all this time!”

  Dova flinched at Jgenult’s volume and dropped her gaze. “I-I’m sorry, Librarian, but Avrist said—”

  “Not another word,” Jgenult seethed. “Not one more word. You will help Grier with this assignment, and when you return, we will have a long discussion about your p
osition here.”

  Dova looked like she might cry.

  Jgenult eyed Grier. “You can take Avrist’s pilot—”

  “No,” Grier said. He cleared his throat and started again. “Librarian Jgenult, I would prefer a trustworthy pilot—one we know for certain isn’t working for Orr.”

  She nodded.

  Lerissa bent forward and whispered, “Librarian, my son has duties—”

  “To his country, Lerissa. Not to you.”

  Grier’s mouth curled at the corners, but he managed to hold back his amusement.

  Jgenult finally folded her hands together in front of her. “I trust you want to leave sooner than later, Grier?”

  “Now, if possible,” he said. “I’ll have my things ready in ten minutes.”

  “I’ll give you my pilot, then. He’ll meet you at the landing zone.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Report everything you find.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He turned to leave.

  “Grier,” Jgenult said. “I trust you to do what’s right. Make this right.”

  He smiled and nodded. “I will.”

  Grier and Dova made for the airship.

  She’d fussed at him the whole time about what a waste this was going to be. That once he’d seen the children, he would have to come back and tell Jgenult he’d been wrong.

  “I’d rather be wrong about this than right, Dova.”

  And the quicker they found out, the sooner he could return to Emeryss.

  They walked up the last flight of stairs to the landing and takeoff area for the Great Library’s transport airships.

  One rose-gold airship sat with its cargo hold door open and its engines running. An air Caster was speaking to a mechanic when Grier and Dova approached.

  “Ah, Grier,” the pilot said, bringing a hand to his white, trimmed beard. Dressed in a raclar traditionally for Scribes, he nodded to him. “I’m Lawrence, and this is Fegrin. Fastest ship the Librarian owns.”

  Grier shook his hand. “Nice to meet you. Thank you for doing this.”

  “When the Librarian says she needs a ship and a pilot this instant, I like being the first one she thinks of.”

  Grier gestured at Dova. “Dova is going to help us navigate.”

  They shook hands and exchanged greetings.

  “I’m to understand we don’t have a return flight planned yet, right?” Lawrence asked.