On the Shoulders of Titans (Arcane Ascension Book 2)

by Andrew Rowe

  Everything had started with Tristan — with his attack on Tenjin in the spire.

  And now, all evidence was pointing toward that situation coming to a resolution. One that I suspected wouldn’t end well for my brother, unless I took the steps to help him.

  The spire had been sealed shut again.

  Someone didn’t want anyone finding something that was inside.

  Maybe Katashi had sealed it again himself, to prevent any interference in the investigation. But even if that was the case, the fact that the spire hadn’t been unsealed after another couple months meant something had to have gone wrong.

  I needed to learn what was happening inside the spire. Tristan was my highest priority, but I also needed to learn what was going on with Tenjin still being missing and Mizuchi being on the loose.

  I wasn’t going to get that much information anywhere else.

  “For what it’s worth,” Sheridan lifted their glass and swished it around, looking thoughtful, “I agree with Corin.”

  “Of course you do,” Elora sighed. “You always have to disagree with me.”

  “While you’re quite right, sister, I have other reasons.” Sheridan took a sip from their glass, then set it down. “For one, I don’t believe finding Corin’s mother in Dalenos is likely to work. She’s most likely climbing the spire — and if she is, she’d be just as hard to find as Tristan, if not harder.”

  “And if she’s outside?” Elora asked.

  “If Lady Lyran is outside of the spire, we can simply contact her via a Wayfarer. I’ll send a message immediately telling her what happened, and to be careful. She’ll know what to do.”

  “Thanks.” I nodded to Sheridan. “I’d appreciate that.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, beyond that, I believe we’ve been overlooking the real issue. Whoever is organizing all this madness is almost certainly within the spire. Even if that isn’t Tristan, we should be looking for them if we wish to stop this.”

  Elora waved a hand in a conciliatory gesture. “You do have a point.”

  “I still don’t think he should go...” Cecily’s voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

  I dismissed that line of thought for the moment. “Sorry, Cecily. I’ll be careful. But there are good reasons I need to do this. For one, while Mizuchi may be in there, there’s a good chance that someone equally dangerous is hunting me out here.”

  “Ah, yes. She hadn’t heard about Saffron.” Elora raised a hand to right below her lips. “I suppose I can see your logic. He did seem the vindictive sort.”

  Cecily frowned. “Who could possibly be as dangerous as Mizuchi?”

  “He’s a child of the Tyrant in Gold,” I explained.

  “...Oh.” She blinked, then adjusted her glasses. “Wait, really?”

  I gave her a gesture of acknowledgement.

  “Wow. You have had a terrible few weeks.”

  “That does raise an important question, though.” Patrick’s hand went to his chest, though I couldn’t tell if he was doing it consciously or not. “What happens if we do run into Mizuchi in the spire?”

  “I think she might be weak against lightning,” I offered. “When you reflected that lightning attack, it seemed to hurt her more than anything else. And she’s supposed to be a water serpent, so that would make sense.”

  “I thought that, too. I hit her with lightning again right after that.” Patrick shook his head. “It bounced right off.”

  I remembered that. Strange. Even though Patrick’s spell was obviously much weaker than Mizuchi’s breath, it probably should have done something if it was her elemental weakness. “Hrm.”

  “How does a water serpent cast lightning spells, anyway?” Patrick asked. “I mean, shouldn’t that be, like, impossible?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if she has all forms of elemental magic. God beasts break a lot of the rules of what you’d expect from normal monsters. Their children often have unusual capabilities as well,” Elora offered. “It would be better if you abandon any ideas of beating Mizuchi in a straight fight. She wasn’t even using her true form.”

  That was a valid answer, but a bit dismissive. Even if children of the god beasts had unusual abilities, I assumed they had to have some kind of logic behind them.

  If she could use types of magic that other creatures of her element couldn’t, there had to be a source for that.

  “Even if we can’t beat her, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t discuss tactics.” I shook my head. “We don’t have to win in a straight fight, but I’d be more confident facing her if we had a plan.”

  Elora gestured for me to slow down. “You’re better off retreating if you see her. That banishment spell — if it really was a banishment — might keep her confined to a specific area. It probably will also make her weaker for a while. Banishment is powerful magic.”

  Banishment was from a restricted attunement, if I remembered right. That meant Vellum had a second attunement she hadn’t told me about. That wasn’t exactly surprising, given her personality.

  I hope she’s...if she died, it would be my fault, wouldn’t it?

  I tried not to think about that, refocusing on the conversation.

  Elora’s comments had given me another idea. “We’ll plan to retreat if we see her. Or, alternatively, I might have a way to get her to talk to us.”

  Elora raised an eyebrow at that. “Care to share?”

  Time to use a small secret to hide the larger one.

  I slipped off the glove on my right hand. “I have a restricted attunement. Arbiter.”

  Almost all of them already knew about it. It was a minimal risk. Elora and Cecily were the only exceptions.

  Cecily leaned down, tilting her head to look closely at it. “Wow, what is that? I’ve never seen an attunement like this. Is it like that weird thing on her neck?”

  “Funny story, it started out that way, but no. Katashi gave it to me. And as it happens, it gives me a degree of authority over certain types of monsters. If I can find a monster inside the spire that knows more about what is going on, I might be able to use this to convince them to help.”

  I was stretching a little there, but only a tad. Researcher had indicated that she was obligated to help an Arbiter — there were probably others like her.

  “Huh.” Cecily poked a finger at it. “What’s it do?”

  “That’s a little outside of this discussion, dear,” Elora offered. “But for what it’s worth, I think talking to monsters might be a good idea. Talking to Mizuchi, however, is a terrible idea. She’s simply too dangerous.”

  “Sorry, sorry. It’s just so interesting!” Cecily leaned back in her chair. “Can I ask you about it later?”

  I nodded to her. “Sure.”

  She looked positively gleeful at the idea.

  “Okay, so, spire.” Patrick tapped on the table. “I’m going. Who’s going?”

  I frowned. “You’re still pretty badly hurt, Pa—”

  “Nope. You don’t get to say that.” I noticed that Patrick’s hand went instinctively to his chest, where his injury was, in spite of his objection. “I didn’t go with you last time, and you nearly died. You didn’t tell me when you were being abducted,” he shot an angry look at Elora, “and you nearly died again. There is no way you’re leaving me behind this time. None.”

  I took a breath. “Okay. Patrick is going.”

  Patrick nodded, setting his jaw, but looking slightly mollified at my agreement.

  I turned toward Keras. “I didn’t ask before, but honestly, I don’t think there’s any chance we can make this work without you.”

  Keras waved a hand sleepily. “Of course I’m going.”

  “Well, if ‘ese goin’, and Patrick’s goin’...” Marissa grinned. “I suppose I’m goin’, too.”

  Sheridan shot Marissa a stern look. “Patrick is on the mend, but he only has one injury. You are in no condition to be going into a spire.”

  Marissa leaned forward, lifting the one fist that wasn�
��t currently covered in bandages. “Look, I’ve still got one good punchin’ hand. More than good enough.”

  “Marissa, you’re the strongest physical fighter here, aside from Keras,” I said, “But I agree with Sheridan on this. You need to recover first.”

  Marissa wrinkled her nose at me. “What about your regeneration ring? Can’t you slap that thing on me for a few days?”

  “I don’t think we’re going to wait that long before we go in,” I explained. “At least, I’d rather get in there right away.”

  “Moreover, a ring is not going to repair the kind of severe bone damage you suffered,” Sheridan explained. “Not quickly, anyway. I can work on healing you a bit faster, but it will not be immediate, and it would be much less comfortable if I speed it up.”

  Keras turned to me. “You should give Marissa the few days she needs. You could all use a few days of rest after what you just experienced.”

  Truthfully?

  I wanted to go right then.

  Every day I waited was more of a chance for something else to happen. For something to get worse.

  But I looked around, and I saw precisely zero faces supporting my stance on that subject.

  If I was going to get my way about going to the spire, I had to know how to concede a few points here and there.

  “Okay. Fine. If we give it a few days, maybe Derek would be willing to come along as well.”

  Cecily leaned over and whispered to me, “Who’s Derek?”

  “Derek Hartigan. Emerald-level Soulblade.” I whispered back.

  “Oooh. Fancy.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “You still need a Diviner,” Sera noted.

  I nodded, while simultaneously noting that Sera had not volunteered to join us in the spire.

  Given how things had gone last time, I didn’t blame her.

  I could ask her privately about it later.

  “I have an idea on that,” I told her.

  “Someone you can trust?” Elora asked. “That could survive in the spire?”

  I considered that. “Better than any of us, in a way.”

  “Who do you mean?”

  I smiled. “It’ll be a surprise. I’ll introduce you later if she agrees.”

  I was feeling pretty good about my plans when I heard a knock at the chamber door.

  Elora went and opened it. One of her household staff was standing there, and he leaned over and whispered something to Elora.

  She frowned, turned toward us, and said, “Magnus Cadence is at the front door, asking to see his son.”

  Sera and I exchanged looks.

  Patrick stood up first. “Corin, you want me to go talk to him while you take care of this?”

  More than anything in the world.

  I took a breath.

  “Thank you, Patrick. But I should talk to him.”

  Nonono.

  I stood up.

  Patrick took a few steps closer. “...Do you want me to go with you, at least?”

  I looked at him quizzically.

  I hadn’t said anything, had I?

  How much did he know?

  But I just shook my head. “Yeah... I think I’d like that. Thanks.”

  Sera turned toward me. “I should probably go with you, too.”

  I glanced at her. “If he said he wanted to talk to me, specifically, he probably doesn’t know you’re here. You’re probably better off keeping it that way. He’s not going to be happy about any of this.”

  “Fair.” She frowned. “But I’ll be here if you need me.”

  “Thanks.” I meant it when I said that.

  But I was also relieved that she wasn’t coming along.

  This was not going to be pleasant.

  Sera hung back reluctantly as Patrick and I headed to the door.

  ***

  Magnus Cadence sat on a couch in the guest area in the entrance, sipping tea.

  He looked so...normal. Composed.

  If I didn’t know him, I wouldn’t have been frightened in the slightest.

  As it was, I jolted and paused in my step as soon as he set his tea cup down and stood up.

  He stood, waiting for us to come closer, appraising.

  When we were within arm’s reach, he nodded. “You seem mostly intact.”

  “Hello, Father. I’m sorry we didn’t—” I began.

  “Quiet, Son.” He raised a hand to silence me. “I haven’t given you permission to speak.”

  This was not going to be good.

  “Now, imagine you’re in my position. You receive a message late last night that the winter ball — attended by very nearly every student of Lorian Heights — has been assaulted by one of the most powerful monsters in existence.”

  He clasped his hands together. “You listen, agonizing, as you learn that the main ballroom, where the first-year students were sitting, was the center of the devastation. You recall, of course, that your two living children are both first-year students.”

  “And so, of course, you want to rush to the scene. But it’s late at night in winter, and there are no trains running. You hire a carriage. You arrive to find many wounded still being treated, and others rushed to the hospital.”

  He winced, turning his head to the side. “You ask, but no one can tell you where your children are.”

  His hands tighten. “You had hoped, at first, that they were simply not in attendance. But they are on the guest list. And one of the guards even remembers someone of Sera’s description entering the party with a summoned monster. Apparently, she made quite a stir. But now she’s missing. They both are.”

  “You go to the hospital next.” His hands were fists now. “And then you go to the morgue.”

  He takes a breath. “After looking through the bodies that were too badly burned to be identified, you believe your children are not there. You return to the hospital, and are fortunate enough to find an old colleague. Lord Teft informed me that he last saw you fighting with Mizuchi, a decision so irrational that I cannot even begin to comprehend how you came to that state. But, regardless, he believed you had survived. He had heard that you were helping Sheridan Theas with the injured.”

  Father’s eyes narrowed. “You haven’t told me anything about having a healing attunement, so I assumed that was in error. Surely, you wouldn’t fail to tell me about something as significant as a second attunement? But Teft was correct about one thing, at least. Here you are. House Theas.”

  He glanced from side to side. Father, Patrick, and I were the only ones in the room.

  Father nodded to himself, and then punched me straight in the jaw.

  I stumbled backward and fell.

  My lip was bleeding.

  “Corin!” Patrick stepped back, eyes widening. Then he rushed to kneel down and check on me.

  At first, I was simply startled.

  He’s never hit me in public before.

  But that was followed by a moment of relief.

  ...Which means that someone finally saw him hit me.

  My father took a step closer, wiping his fist on his coat. “Insolent child. You are lucky I didn’t use steel. I thought I’d taught you better than this.”

  Patrick reached down and pulled me to my feet.

  I took a breath, then looked away. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry. I should have—”

  He hit me again, in the ribs this time. “I still haven’t given you permission to speak.”

  I doubled over from the force of the blow.

  But as much as it hurt?

  It hurt a hell of a lot less than it had when I hadn’t had two shrouds and a pair of shield sigils.

  I straightened, holding my chest and coughing.

  “Sir, with respect, that’s enough.” Patrick stepped between us. “I’m sure that Corin didn’t mean any harm. He was taking care of the rest of us all night.”

  Father raised his fist, but not toward me this time.

  I caught his hand.

  Magnus Cadence turned his gaze to
me, then he raised his other fist. “Do not test me, Son.”

  I narrowed my eyes, my pulse quickening. “Were you about to hit Patrick?”

  He tensed his jaw. “I will discipline my children as I see fit, and I will not allow some peasant to question—”

  Haste.

  I was still getting used to using the Haste spell in a fight.

  I wasn’t very good at maintaining my accuracy with it.

  But when all I wanted to do was hit someone very hard, very fast?

  It was great for that.

  I punched Magnus Cadence.

  I punched him a lot.

  In a few seconds, he fell back, holding his stomach.

  “You’ll regret—”

  Don’t give him a chance to move.

  No chance to cast.

  No quarter.

  Jump.

  The ring of jumping activated. I slammed my fist into his jaw.

  He didn’t budge in the slightest.

  In the moment I’d taken to close the distance, his defensive instincts must have kicked in. His body was wrapped in a translucent field of energy now, visible to the naked eye. Not a mere shroud – a projection of armor, created with a Shaper attunement.

  And, unlike a shroud, an armor spell was perfectly capable of stopping a punch entirely.

  I took a step back, gripping my knuckles. I’d bruised them on the impact.

  Magnus simply stared at me for a moment, then reached into the pocket of his coat and withdrew a handkerchief. He wiped the blood away from his lips from when I’d hit him the first time, then raised a hand to his chin. “You’ve chosen an odd time to grow a backbone, Son.”

  “You threatened my friend.” I felt my whole body tense as I braced myself for another strike.

  Magnus shook his head. “No, Son. I was going to discipline your retainer, as is my right. If you wish for this,” he waved at Patrick, “to be your retainer, he will need to bear the burdens of all that entails. And you,” he turned his eyes back to me, “will need to remember one of the first lessons I taught you.”

  Magnus took a breath, staring me down. “Never start a fight you can’t possibly finish.”

  He didn’t move to attack.

  That was bad. I would have been ready for a swing or a blast of mana.