by Frank Morin
"A good commander deals with the situation at hand," Connor said. "Not the one he wishes he'd gotten."
"Like when you had to put down Hector," Ivor said.
"Like Hector," Connor admitted, growing serious. Few knew about that, and most of them thought he had fought the monster as Kilian. So many things had gone wrong that day. And yet, if what Jean had discovered was true, there must be another aspect to that moment that he did not yet understand. What had really happened there? What had Hector become if not unclaimed?
He didn't realize he had lapsed into silence until Ivor stood and selected another drink. "I wish I had been there. From what I heard from the boy, Connor, you could have used some help."
Connor appreciated the reminder that he wasn't visiting Ivor as himself. The line was growing blurred as they talked. "It was ugly. I wish you'd been there. Together maybe we could have subdued him, given him a chance to regain his humanity."
"Tell me about the fight," Ivor said eagerly, handing Connor his own drink. Connor accepted it and took a sip. He had to show some trust somewhere, didn't he?
He liked Ivor and wished they had met under different circumstances. Ivor was smart and seemed to understand things better than most Petralists. He would make a fine commander someday, if allowed.
So Connor described how Hector had transformed from the vain teacher into a raging, unclaimed monster. Ivor asked penetrating questions about the strength and speed of the monster, and Connor did his best to explain it.
Perhaps he should have held back, kept some information secret, but he couldn't see what benefit knowing about the unclaimed would grant Ivor. Besides, talking through the memory helped Connor organize his thoughts. As he spoke, he felt there was a truth lingering there in the shadows, but couldn't quite put his finger on it.
"I don't think anyone but a Sentry could have stopped it," Connor said finally. "Except for a Dawnus. Although it was tricky to maintain the focus to work with both water and fire at the same time."
Ivor grunted. "Took me forever to figure it out. Wasn't till I shifted to the Smaladair Technique that I finally got it."
Ivor noticed Connor's quizzical look. "You don't know that one?"
"Not yet."
"You should try it. Reduces interference and I can manage a far stronger burn."
"I will." Connor hesitated for half a heartbeat before continuing. "As soon as you show me how." He tried to keep the statement calm, but he wanted to beg Ivor for the information.
"What technique do you use?" Ivor asked. "The Chan-eil-Greim, or the Floating Burn?"
Connor shrugged. "For me, it's more the Ragsbat Technique." When Ivor shook his head, not recognizing that one, he added, "That's the Riding Angry Galloping Stallions Bareback Together technique."
Ivor laughed, but his mirth trickled away when Connor didn't join him. He leaned forward, looking surprised. "You mean you still bull through, using them as separate elements?"
"Well they are, aren't they?" Despite all the reasons to pretend he knew secrets he didn't, who could teach him if not Ivor? Even if that meant letting Ivor know his limits, he needed to take the risk.
Ivor slapped his leg and barked a laugh. "I can't believe it! You have no idea what you're doing, do you?"
"I'm here, aren't I?"
Ivor leaned back. "It makes sense, finally. That's why they entered you so late, even though they had to know the representatives would give you a weaker army. That's why they had to keep you secret. You just barely manifested Dawnus, didn't you?"
"Pretty recent," Connor admitted, hating that Ivor knew, and hating more what power that knowledge might grant him. Still, Ivor had twice proven himself willing to step up and help Connor. Would he do it again when no one was watching?
"Amazing," Ivor said. "It's a miracle you survived the nomination."
"I learn fast."
"How in Tallan's name did you ever think you could make that dome when you're so new?" Ivor asked, a little awed.
Connor shrugged. "You never know until you try, right?"
Ivor gaped and Connor added, "Like we discussed earlier, I had you and the other Spitters there to help."
"You couldn't have known," Ivor said, shaking his head in disbelief. "You can't be that naive."
"It's not naive to trust you'd all want to help save people's lives. If you'd let that dome collapse, it would've wrecked your chances as much as mine. There's no Tir-raon if half the school is dead."
"You've got more nerve than a blind torc rider," Ivor said. "I like that, Lian. It's your big advantage."
"I'll take what I can get at this point."
"Everyone's got an advantage," Ivor added. "That's the first thing you need to learn. You've got to study the field. Padraigin is a genius at absorption and tap rate management. Redmund's stronger in earth than anyone I've ever met, except maybe that Evander character."
Ivor was speaking to him as if he was a student. Maybe things would turn out all right after all. Connor hoped he'd keep talking, dared to hope they could find a way to work together.
"And what about you?" Connor asked.
Ivor grinned. "I study harder than anyone."
"Study what?"
"Everything." He took an apple from the tray. "I know my limits, but more importantly I know everyone else's. I win, Lian, because I know exactly how to beat every opponent before I take the field against them."
Connor had beaten him more than once in practice encounters. Now that Connor had revealed so much truth, would Ivor hold the advantage the next time?
"Why are you telling me all this?"
"Because I know enough about you to see the truth."
"What truth?" Connor asked slowly, worried how much the clever Dawnus had figured out.
"You can't hope to win, not with being so new to your tertiary affinities, and especially not with that army they've chained around your neck." When Connor opened his mouth to protest, Ivor cut him off. "You've got to try. We all do, but there can be only one winner."
Ivor leaned forward, completely confident. "I can arrange for you to take second place, and in return, you reinforce my ultimate victory."
Was it arrogance if his confidence was well grounded? Ivor didn't speak with false pride. From where he sat, the offer must have sounded extremely generous, the assumptions he was making solid.
Under any other circumstances, Connor would have agreed. But he couldn't afford to lose. Too many lives hung in the balance.
"You're assuming I'll accept that I can't win."
"You can't," Ivor said, making a dismissive gesture. "But if you agree to work with me, I'll train you, Lian. That Firetongue and Spitter that Shona appointed for you might know their individual elements, but no one but a Dawnus can teach you how to meld those elements into a mightier whole. You don't have time to figure it out on your own."
When Connor still hesitated, Ivor rose and paced away. "You're smart, Lian. If you had the advantages I have, you'd be unstoppable and I'd be the one trying to make a deal for second place. But the stones are cast, and you're smart enough to face reality."
"I can't commit to second place."
"You'll see reason soon enough," Ivor promised. "Think about it, and I'll leave the offer open, but if you wait until after getting trounced in the first group battle, I might not be able to help you."
"Even if I don't agree to helping you come in first," Connor said, trying to rescue something from the conversation. "We can still benefit from working together."
"How?" Ivor asked.
"Like you said, no one can help Dawnus improve better than another Dawnus. Let's train together. You can show me some of what you know, and I guarantee I can show you some tricks you haven't considered yet. That's a win for both of us."
Ivor considered the proposal, looking torn. Connor added, "What do you have to lose?"
The big man grinned. "You know what I like best about your idea?"
"Besides learning from a master of improvisation?"
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Ivor snorted. "We're supposed to be enemies, Lian. What better way to prove we're more than our patrons think we are than by teaming up?"
Connor could think of a couple of things, but didn't dare share them with Ivor. "Geall on."
As they both thumbed their noses to accept the challenge and embark on the crazy plan, Connor vowed to never succumb to Ivor's arguments, no matter how persuasive. He would show Ivor there was more to winning than cold logic. Ilse had defeated Rory with nerve, with logic, with creativity, and by changing the board to her advantage. He was going to have to do the same thing.
He grinned. "So how exactly do you manage that Channeling Grime technique?"
"Come on, and I'll show you," Ivor said, rising and gesturing toward the door.
Connor hoped to pry as many secrets as possible from Ivor as they began practicing in his echoing training facility, after shooing out all of the workers.
"The Chan-eil-Greim technique is perhaps the least effective of the advanced dual-tapping techniques," Ivor said, stopping beside one of the huge tanks of water. "But it sheds light on some underlying principles that alone are worth your oath to agree to my plan."
"Show me, and we'll see," Connor said, trying to hide his excitement.
"Fire and water are unrelenting enemies at the most fundamental level." As Ivor spoke, water bubbled out of the tank behind him, and purplish flames erupted out of a nearby vat of liquid fuel. Both elements arced across the open space and met directly over Ivor's head, twirling together with crackling hiss of steam. It was a great demonstration. Ivor didn't seem to struggle to mesh the two elements together, but even that little show would have taxed Connor's control.
"Trying to force them together is like trying to grill a steak in a hurricane," Connor agreed. He had managed by sheer stubborn willpower and desperate need.
"That's because you're making the same mistake we all do at first. You're trying to force them to get along face to face." As he spoke, the elements separated over his head, flowing into the images of men facing each other.
"So what's the secret?"
"Simple," Ivor said with a grin, and the man-shaped elements above his head turned to face away from each other. "You have to convince them to stand back to back, like duelists just prior to the start of their contest."
"That's it?" Connor wasn't sure he believed it.
"The trick is to release them before the duel starts."
Connor considered the idea, forcing down his initial doubt. It had to be more than a clever mind game. He grinned. "I've got to try that."
"Be my guest." Ivor gestured at the nearby tanks.
So he did. Connor established affinity with water first, and drew a man-shaped globe of water out of the tank, tethered by a slender cord. Then he sucked on marble and embraced the burn, drawing flames from the liquid fuel. For a second, it looked like it was going to work, and he exulted as the flames morphed into the shape of a man.
Then the flames turned white-hot and exploded, shredding the water.
Ivor laughed, shaking his head. "Again."
It took a few tries, but Ivor did not ridicule him for the failures. After the fifth explosive failure, Ivor said, "Stop focusing on how the elements are shaped. The trick is maintaining the illusion in your mind."
On the third try after that, Connor finally understood. It was how he envisioned the gateways that mattered. In his mind, he'd been thinking of them as invisible doors facing each other. The trick was to instead imagine them facing away from each other. It was a bit weird, but his mind was not limited to the same constraints as his physical limbs, and he could indeed stretch his thoughts around the gateways to enter from opposite sides.
It might have all been mind games, but positioning himself mentally that way allowed him to establish affinity with both elements without them raging against each other like snarling dogs on chains. As long as he kept both elements focused away from each other, it was like they could pretend the other element didn't exist.
"This is amazing," he laughed when he produced his first intertwined column of fire and water, vague silhouettes of people hugging, but not quite mixing.
"You're a quick study," Ivor said, approving. "Took me a while to get it."
"I'm motivated."
"This is just the beginning, Lian. The other techniques I'll teach you after you agree to my terms help bind the elements even tighter together."
The not-so-subtle reminder of Ivor's intention didn't even dampen Connor's good mood. "Don't push it."
"Ungrateful."
"You haven't seen what I can do for you."
"What can you teach me?" Ivor asked, looking doubtful.
In response, Connor drew liquid fuel around the two of them in a hollow column that reared ten feet into the air, using soapstone to command the liquid. It was slippery, like soap on his thoughts, and he had to focus as hard on that single element as he had trying to meld two opposites, but he managed to get it to obey his command.
Then he lit the column on fire.
As soon as it began to burn, he switched to marble to command the flames. The liquid in the center of the conflagration still obeyed his soapstone will, though.
"Only the outer surface of liquid fuel actually burns," he explained. "The rest of can be treated as liquid, not fire."
Ivor looked disgusted, but he didn't fly into a rage like Aonghus had. He must have established affinity with marble first. He was a fast learner though, and he resisted his initial disgust to consider the idea.
"I never even considered looking at the fuel separate from the flames." Ivor sounded amazed.
"They may be fire unborn," Connor said, quoting Aonghus. "But until the spark ignites them, they are liquid."
"Non-water manipulation of liquid is tough," Ivor said, and Connor felt his will slipping across the edges of the liquid fuel, probing. "And students are discouraged from testing those limits too much."
"I think that does everyone a disservice," Connor said. "You've got to keep an open mind if you hope to have any chance of winning. The fleet-footed eoin is incapable of escaping the nuall when its head is buried in the sands."
Grinning, Ivor seized control over part of the burning column and knocked Connor soaring into a tub of water.
After that, the training session degenerated into a brawl twenty feet in the air as the two of them threw themselves back and forth across the training facility, swatting at each other with fire and water.
When they eventually terminated the private elemental battle, laughing from the thrill of the contest, Ivor clapped Connor on the shoulder. "Don't worry about the damage. The workers were already planning to rip out those sections."
Chapter 23
Connor returned to his rooms in a good humor and allowed himself to believe he and Ivor could keep training together, despite all the reasons they shouldn't. He plopped down onto one of the comfortable chairs in his suite. He still had to find a way to win the first group battle, but hopefully Ivor could finish a close second. That wouldn't damage their growing friendship, would it?
"What has you in such a good mood?"
Connor leaped to his feet and spun to face Ilse. He hadn't noticed the Grandurian captain lounging in the corner, gnawing on a roasted chicken that was supposed to be part of Connor's lunch.
"How exactly did you get in here?" Connor demanded, scanning for Anika and Erich, but not seeing any of the rest of Ilse's team.
"The same way I entered Lady Shona's palace or other areas of the Carraig deemed necessary for my mission," Ilse said, taking another big bite of chicken.
She didn't elaborate and did not look like she intended to share the secret. That ability to move with impunity through the heart of enemy territory was one of the mysteries about Ilse that kept Connor perpetually nervous around her. That and the fact that she might decide to assassinate him at any time.
Since she hadn't tried to kill him yet, he decided he was happy to see her.
"We hav
e to talk." He gestured toward one of the couches.
"I bring word from Kilian," she said, accepting his invitation and settling gracefully onto the sofa. The move would have looked elegant if she had been dressed in a formal gown. In her long, black coat and battle leathers, it only made her seem deadlier.
"That was fast." Connor had figured it would take a few more days to get a response.
"He was motivated. Word of Hector's transformation stirred up a lot of interest. It turns out that Kilian only recently destroyed two unclaimed on the borders of Granadure. They match the description of the transformation you witnessed in Hector."
"I thought no one had seen unclaimed," Connor said, sinking into a nearby chair. "Especially in Granadure."
"We haven't. Hence the interest. Two sightings at almost the exact same time, but hundreds of miles apart." Her expression turned grave. "It appears unclaimed are a reality after all."
"Or maybe not."
Connor told her about what Jean had discovered. Despite Evander's threat, he had to share the information with Ilse so she could get it to Kilian, especially if he had encountered unclaimed on the border.
When he finished, Ilse didn't speak for a moment, mulling over the information. "How sure is the girl?"
"The sources seemed genuine. She's going to search deeper, but you need to know that there's someone here named Evander who has threatened to kill us if we reveal the truth to anyone."
Ilse frowned. "That is a name I've heard, although I know little about him."
"See what you can find out," Connor suggested. "And pass this information on to Kilian. We're going to hunt for more details, but we need some way to confirm what's really going on. Are unclaimed a reality, or are they part of some deeper lie?"
"You should come with me," Ilse said.
"You know I can't," Connor said, feeling for his granite curse. Was this the excuse she needed to try kidnapping him or removing him? He didn't think so, but didn't dare make any assumptions.
Instead of trying to kill him, Ilse sighed. "No, you cannot. Our presence here grows more precarious every day, but we must run this mystery to ground before we act upon it."