Yet.
What was I going to do? Even if I stayed hidden through the night, what would happen when the sun rose? I’d spent five days in Steelhold, most of them in stuffy chambers or the staff dorm. When I crossed the Hold, I’d been guided down well-trafficked alleys and through wide hallways. Steelhold was a stark place, absent the nooks and crannies of the city below. I had nowhere to hide. My only friend here was Oralie. She might have an idea where I could go, but asking her would mean putting her at risk.
Anyway, even if I found somewhere to hide, it couldn’t last. I’d need food and water. I was no good at sneaking around and pilfering supplies, and I wouldn’t ask anyone to risk the Chasm Gate to help me.
What then? Kill Minister Brevt and hope he hadn’t recruited help in finding me yet?
I hugged my knees to my chest.
“Lilik?” I whispered. “Can you hear me?”
We can.
“I’m afraid.”
I know. We feel what you feel.
“What do I do?”
For a few breaths, no response came from the spirits trapped within my bracelet. Then threads of confidence and hope spooled out from the bracelet, winding through my body.
“How do you do that?” I asked.
It’s part of our bond. Our connection through the aether. Your ability as a channeler allows you to share our emotions as well as our thoughts.
“Channeler? What’s that?”
I’m sorry. Spiritist. In our time, your kind were known as channelers and compellers. Communication between minds, and compulsion of others. You have some of both of of those abilities. Magic changes as civilizations evolve, and so do the words used to describe it.
Lilik, the man cut in. We need to work on projecting. She can’t keep talking aloud.
A wave of agreement followed the man’s words. Raav’s right, Lilik said. Before we continue, you must learn to speak over our bond.
Lips pressed together, I shrugged. How was I supposed to do that?
Try this, Lilik said. Imagine someone you care about very much.
Immediately, images of Avill and Mother came to mind. I nodded.
Now, close your eyes and imagine telling them what they mean to you. With your spirit, not your lips. Feel the words moving from your mind to theirs.
I attempted to follow her directions, imagining Avill’s face before me. I love you, I thought. Please be safe. I couldn’t bear to learn that Havialo hurt you.
That’s good, Lilik said. I felt your emotions, but not the words. You must be very focused on forming your thoughts so that the aether can carry them. Try telling me how you feel about this person.
I... I thought. I would give anything to see Avill right now. I broke my promise to her. She was so afraid I would leave her, and I did. I have to find her. Keep her safe.
A wave of congratulations surged from the bracelet. Parveld said you were a bonfire of talent, Lilik said. I understand now.
So… I furrowed my brow, focusing on sending my thoughts into the bracelet. So it worked?
An understatement, Raav said. You’re twice the channeler Paono—I mean Parveld is.
Paono?
He changes his name through the decades, Lilik said. We can give you the full story another time. For now, how about we focus on saving your life?
Please, I thought, attempting to suffuse the word with gratitude.
Good! You’re mixing words and emotions, already. A bonfire indeed, Raav said.
***
Hmm. Maybe we should back up, Lilik said. After more than an hour, nothing Lilik or Raav had tried to explain to me made sense. I couldn’t understand their descriptions of magical abilities, much less use the techniques.
If you think it will help, I said.
Like I mentioned, magic evolves, Lilik said. Sometimes, a civilization will have abilities that haven’t been seen before. I’ve never heard of geognosty outside of Atal. And sometimes, like with channeling and spiritism, the magic changes over time. When I explain something, try searching for similarities in your experiences.
I nodded as I scooted deeper into the niche between kilns. The smooth brick walls were still warm from the day’s firing, lending a sense of comfort.
Were you a spiritist—a channeler, I mean? I asked.
A bittersweet tickle emanated from the bracelet. I was. And though my talent was strong, it was nothing compared to what Parveld senses from you.
I wondered if I should feel proud of my ability, but couldn’t summon the emotion. Whatever spiritist abilities I possessed, I’d been born with them. I hadn’t worked to achieve them, so why take pleasure in knowing how strong they were? Besides, if I couldn’t figure out how to use them, my powers were worthless.
My experiences are so limited. My aura-sight flares when I’m scared. I have more nightmares than most people, but that might not be related.
That may feel limited, but the fact that you even see auras without training means you’re a natural. Parveld said that most spiritists have no idea about their talent until the Empire finds and kills them.
I didn’t see any point in arguing. I was glad Lilik and Raav believed in me, but their confidence alone wasn’t going to help me survive Minister Brevt’s attacks.
If I can figure out the armor you’ve tried to explain, are you sure it will work against Minister Brevt? Havialo said that spiritists were the true mages, and the metalogists were just pretending with their tainted jewelry. If they’re different types of powers, what if I can’t affect him?
Well, Lilik said, I don’t know for sure. But the magic is related, according to Parveld. He’s spent centuries studying rifts like the one that caused the Maelstrom.
Rifts like the canyons that open during an earthquake? What does that have to do with the Maelstrom?
A different sort of rift. The Gray Gorge and First Rift are cracks in the earth. The kinds of rifts Parveld studies are cracks between worlds.
Wait, so there’s a rift leading to another world inside the Maelstrom?
Actually, the rift was sealed more than thousand years ago. It took a great communion of mages to close it, and that was after it had swallowed a continent. But it wasn’t sealed properly, which is why the Maelstrom still nibbles at our world, pulling land and life into the great Hunger that underpins existence. Cosmal Peninsula is slowly being eaten by what remains of the rift, causing the continent to crack and break apart.
What’s wrong with the seal? I asked.
I hope Parveld won’t hate me if I get some of this wrong, Lilik said, sending a trickle of uncertainty across our bond. Basically, the rift is closed—if it weren’t, our world would have vanished centuries ago. The problem is, the seal is tainted. One of the mages in the communion had lost her family to the Hunger, and she wanted to keep a door open for their return. She twisted the spell at the last moment.
Did it work?
Not in the way she wished. The seal leaks, throwing back bits and pieces of what the Hunger has stolen. But never without altering them.
The relics! I said. For hundreds of years, diviners had tried to understand why the objects washed up on Cosmali shores. And now I knew the answer.
And the Maelstrom-metals. It’s not actually the metals which return from the other realm. It’s the magic. In the case of metalogy, channeling and compulsion magic. For reasons that not even Parveld understands, the abilities bind to metals that occur naturally within the Maelstrom. But the Maelstrom magic comes with a cost. The taint. It infects those who use it.
I remembered Havialo’s reaction to the currents of water and air caused by the Maelstrom. He’d feared the corruption. What does the infection cause?
Greed. Avarice. Madness. Those are the tools the Hunger uses to open rifts. I suspect that Minister Brevt has more ranks in metalogy than indicated by the rings he displays on his fingers.
I swallowed, hugging my knees tighter. What about people who grew up ne
ar the Maelstrom? Are we tainted too?
Both Raav and Lilik sent waves of affection across our bond. Not in the least, Raav said. In fact, Parveld thinks spiritism arose near the Maelstrom to counter the contamination.
From up on the wall surrounding the Hold, muffled thumps marked a patrol passing the stationary sentinels. The protectors saluted one another by pounding fists to chests. I’d heard the sounds enough times during the day to become accustomed to them, but now, it reminded me that time was short. The patrols walked the wall every hour. After another five or six series of thumps, dawn would brighten the sky.
So back to saving my life… Can you explain how Parveld sent three people to the Sandsea? That seems like my best chance for dealing with Minister Brevt.
Raav chuckled. Parveld rarely uses his magic in visible ways, but when he does, it’s usually dramatic.
True, Lilik said. Anyway, what Parveld did was complicated. I don’t know if spiritism allows that kind of weaving—if we get you through this, we can experiment. For now, let’s focus on controlling the abilities we know you possess. Has your aura-sight protected you before?
I pressed my fingers to my temples. Yes, I’d used my aura-sight in self-defense, but I had no idea how to do it again.
On the night of the big quake, I did something to the auras of some men who planned to attack me. I forced them away.
Compulsion, Lilik said. It can do terrible things when used by the wrong people. But in your hands, it stopped violence.
But I have no idea how I did it, I said, coloring the thought with frustration.
Tell me everything you remember. We will crack this, Savra. You just need to believe.
I sighed, doubt settling on my shoulders like a heavy cloak. Nonetheless, I started explaining how the Atal men had surrounded me and my panicked reaction. Somewhere on the high slopes of the Icethorns, a hunting cat roared.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Kostan
The night-cloaked streets of Jaliss
VANESS AND I trotted out of Lowtown and onto Tanner’s Row before we slowed to a walk. With every step, I considered what I’d told the Provs. Had it been the right move? Would it help me undermine the Ministry? Or had I simply added more chaos to Jaliss’s shantytowns?
I cursed our hasty departure. The discovery of the protectors’ corpses would bode ill for the Prov population. If I’d been thinking clearly, I’d have demanded that Vaness help me drag the bodies inside the smithy. They’d have been discovered eventually, but I would have gained the Lowtowners some time.
Too late to go back now. The only way to blunt the protectors’ vengeance was to move quickly. No more waiting for Ilishian and Azar. I needed to make a move on Steelhold within a day. Two at the most.
I needed answers. Action. The time for caution was over.
On Tanner’s Row, the stench of leather tanning still flooded the street though work had finished hours ago. I took a relieved breath of fresh air when we strode into the Merchant’s Quarter. Presiding over the intersection, the Hall of Registry raised a marble facade over the street. I wondered where Savra was now. Had my actions tonight made her less safe? Would I ever see her again?
I swallowed and looked away. If I’d been born into a different life, I might have the luxury of answering those questions. But whether I regained the throne or died trying, I’d never be able to search her out. Anyway, once I Ascended, she’d have no wish to see me again. I would become the thing she hated most. The man who beheaded Prov boys without cause.
Clenching my fists, I bowed my head and trudged on.
Time for action. Time for answers. Tonight.
The Ministry couldn’t further their plans while Vaness and I lived. That fact kept returning to my mind. How could I use it? I’d told the mob about Tovmeil’s assassination, but that wasn’t enough to stop the ministers’ plot. The Provs had no real reason to believe me, and even if they did, they were too hungry and exhausted to help me topple the Ministry.
I needed more allies. Powerful allies. And most importantly, I needed to get inside Steelhold. The Heart belonged on the throne. Somehow, I felt the pendant and the Breaking were related. I just wasn’t sure how.
Where the street curved toward the boundary with the Splits, Vaness stalked to a stone bench outside a bakery. She sank onto the smooth granite, propped her elbows on her knees and cradled her chin in her hand.
“So,” she said, “what now?”
I took a deep breath. The air smelled faintly of turned earth, escaped when buildings had shifted on their foundations during the tremor. “Did you and the mages work out a meeting point if the safehouse was compromised?”
She shook her head. “We were too focused on other things.”
Pulling the sword from my belt so I could sit, I joined Vaness on the bench. I laid the flat of the blade across my thighs then grimaced at the blood still smearing the steel. I glanced around the bench for something to wipe it on. Disappointed, I set the blade out of sight.
We sat quietly for awhile. As I stared at the shuttered storefronts opposite us, an idea began to take shape in my mind. I tapped my finger on my thigh while considering the notion. It was risky, but it could work. Plus, it was better than anything the mages or Vaness had come up with.
“You need to find somewhere defensible to hide overnight,” I said. “At first light, I want you to go to the Astrologers Tower. They may be worthless in a fight, but at least we can count on the star gazers’ allegiance. If Ilishian is thinking clearly, he’ll look for us there.”
Vaness was examining the shoddy dagger she’d grabbed from the smithy. As I spoke, her fingers curled around the hilt. “What about you?” she asked, suspicion clear in her voice.
I stretched my legs out, planting heels on the slate pavement. As I draped an arm over the back of the bench, I wondered if she’d see right through my casual act. “I’ll follow after. We’ll attract less attention approaching the Tower one by one.”
She snorted in disgust. “You are such a terrible liar. It’s the girl, isn’t it? You want a chance to look for her before the mages find us again.”
The corner of my mouth drew up in a sad smile. If only that were my plan. But I had to forget Savra—no point in rekindling hope just to have it drowned. Still, better if Vaness thought she’d figured me out.
I shrugged. “I know there can’t be anything between Savra and me. But she took a big risk to help me. I want to thank her. She’ll hate me when I take the throne—all the Provs will. But at least she won’t be able to accuse me of being ungrateful.”
Vaness clapped a hand on my knee. “You’ve gotten soft, Kostan. Too much time hanging out with Provs.”
Or maybe I’d found the courage to be myself. Anyway, now wasn’t the time to debate with her. “So, do you agree? The Astrologers Tower at dawn?”
“The Tower at dawn,” she said.
“And Vaness, if something does happen... If I don’t show up I mean, leave the astrologers. Find another place to hide.”
Her brows drew together. “Why?”
“Because I can’t know where you are.”
She nodded. “Argents. You don’t want them reading my location from your mind.”
“Right. But anyway, we won’t have to worry about that. I’ll see you by sunrise.”
“If you say so,” she said. “But Kostan… be careful. The Empire depends on you.”
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Savra
Exposed by moonlight, Steelhold
THE CRESCENT MOON rose late in the night, casting a bar of wan light into the niche between kilns. I pressed deeper into the recesses but couldn’t escape the glow.
I need to move, I said.
Agreed, Lilik and Raav said at once. We’d been focusing on willing my aura-sight to bloom and then on dispelling it again when I need my awareness in the real world. Or, as Lilik had explained, on shifting my focus between the physical realm and the aether
. But I preferred my terms. In her experience, the aether was a vast space she’d been able to sense. I felt nothing of the sort. Instead, I perceived auras more like hidden parts of our world.
At least we’d made a little progress. If I concentrated very hard, I could sense the empty auras of the protectors on the wall. They were like gashes in the world. Wounds against the sky.
I rose into a crouch and shuffled to the front edges of the kilns. Laying a hand against the warm bricks to steady myself, I focused on summoning my aura-sight. Spirits flared across my vision, the tranquil blues and silvers of sleeping people inside nearby buildings. I scanned the area, looking for patrols, but the only moving auras I saw were the shifting voids atop the wall.
Blinking, I dispelled the vision. I edged into the alley between the potters’ hall and the staff dormitory. The best place I could think to go was the storehouses. The buildings pressed close together in the southeasterly region of the Hold. I’d be well hidden there until dawn. If I could just recall how I’d shoved the Atal auras away, I might be able to protect myself by the time the sun rose. Pulling my thin jacket tight over my body—without the kilns’ warmth, I was already shivering—I turned south.
In the centuries since Steelhold had been carved, many buildings had been added atop the seamless architecture, turning the alleys into a maze. I turned left and right, climbed stairs and descended ramps. When I finally reached the fringe of the storehouses, I stopped and brought my aura-sight to life. As spirits awakened in my vision, a voice pressed into my thoughts.
Can you hear me?
I gasped. Parveld?
Warmth joined the next thought, faint but unmistakable. At last! he said. Lilik got through to you.
She did.
Thank the tides. Now listen closely. It’s very hard for me to speak at this distance, and I worry the metalogists might hear our words. Consider what you say carefully. Don’t give away information about who or where you are.
All right, I said, stopping short to show I’d listened to his warning.
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