Along the Razor's Edge (The War Eternal Book 1)

by Rob J. Hayes

  Tamura giggled and we all looked his way. "This is what happens when magic and monsters..." He clapped his hands together so fast and hard that the slap echoed around the emptiness of the hall.

  We all stood there for a while in silence, listening to the clap echo and straining to hear anything else. Thankfully, the world around us fell silent once again and I let out a sigh of relief.

  Tamura was still grinning as he turned and struck off towards one of the pillars. I watched him go for a moment and then followed, ignoring the battered and broken swords and armour that littered the ground along with other bits of rubble and debris. We should have listened to Yorin.

  Tamura stopped at the first pillar and started poking it, walking all around it and running his hands over the seams in the rock. I moved in for a closer look at the glowing blue mineral. It looked almost crystalline. It twisted and snaked through the pillar in strange designs. I reached out, scratching against the seam with a fingernail but it was as hard as the rock it was sunk into.

  "It's warm," I said idly as I lay a palm against the pillar. "What is it?"

  "Blood of the earth." Tamura was still moving around the pillar, tapping at bits and running his hands over the rock. Hardt and Isen had retrieved a third lantern and moved off to the side of the hall, checking inside one of the many doorways. Yorin wandered off, and I turned away as he pulled out his cock to piss against one of the pillars.

  "I thought people called lava blood of the earth?" As soon as the words were out of my mouth Tamura stopped searching the pillar and reached out, grabbing my left hand. I tried to pull away but the old man's grip was iron. He turned my hand over and traced a fingernail along one of my veins. I think I was caught between anger, shock, and indignation. Despite the look on my face Tamura just stared at me with a smile. "Blood is red, and blood is blue." He let go of my arm and went back to the pillar.

  I am no Biomancer, but all students at the academy were taught some rudimentary physiology. The Orran Academy did a lot of bad in its time, but it also gave me an excellent education.

  "Blood is only red when exposed to air," I said slowly. "Are you saying this is lava without air?"

  Tamura laughed, blowing out air in a snort. "No. Foolish girl."

  I'd be lying if I said I wasn't fairly angry at being called a fool. I felt my cheeks flush red and my hands clenched into fists. Despite the anger coming from me, and the heat coming from the pillar, I still felt cold inside. I fought to master my frustration and managed to push it down.

  "That's what you get for expecting wisdom from a crazy old man," Yorin said from nearby.

  "So, you think my question was stupid?" I asked.

  "No such thing as a stupid question," Tamura answered from the other side of the pillar.

  "What about stupid people?" I asked with a savage grin at Yorin.

  "Oh yes." Tamura's head poked around the side of the pillar and he nodded at me, then glanced at Yorin. "There are most certainly those. They are usually the ones who don't ask questions for fear of them being stupid."

  The old man sighed and shook his head emphatically. "This. Is the wrong one." With that Tamura left the pillar and struck off towards the next one before circling it, searching with eyes and hands.

  I glanced at Yorin and found him staring at me. "Crazy old man," he said.

  I ground my teeth in annoyance and leapt to Tamura's defence. "That crazy old man is the only reason we're free. He found our escape route."

  "We're not free," Yorin said. "This isn't free. It's all just another part of the Pit. It's the illusion of freedom. Chances are, we die down here. You and me. Probably not the old fool. The brothers definitely will. Either we starve before we find a way out, or those things get bored of waiting and eat us." He said it so matter of factly, I almost missed it.

  "What things?" I asked.

  "Eyes in the dark," Yorin said with a grimace. "Like the little light gems in the walls. But they're not. They watched us sleep last night. All night."

  "You saw them too?" I asked. I was more than a little glad it wasn't just me. At the same time, I realised that meant there really were things down in the dark with us.

  Yorin nodded at me. His face was so impassive, as though he didn't care one way or another.

  "Fuck them! They won't follow us out and there is a way out." I said with force. I wanted Yorin to believe me. I think, perhaps, if I could have convinced the most sceptical of our group then maybe I could have started believing it myself. "There is, and we'll find it."

  Yorin sniffed and shrugged. "The old man has found something." He pointed to where Tamura had his face pressed up against one of the pillars.

  "Treasure!" Tamura grinned at us as we drew near. The way the blue light lit his face and the rows of hair on his head made him look manic.

  I looked at the pillar. Unlike the others, this one had a white X scraped across it, each line as big as my arm. Some of the more fanciful books I read back at the academy, tales of adventure and peril and buried treasure often mentioned a similar mark. Between bard stories and real life, I find it is truly worrying how many times X marks the spot.

  "Looks just like all the others to me," Yorin said.

  Tamura set to scraping at the stone pillar with his fingers. "One and the same, all the same. Just like all the others. On the outside. All boxes look the same. Cases. Bags. A closed fist."

  Tamura turned to us and held out both his hands as fists. He turned his hands over and opened the first. It was empty. He opened his second fist and on the palm of his hand was small sphere, no larger than a marble. "But inside..." he said.

  Yorin looked at the open hand and sighed. "Another gem. We're surrounded by fucking gems, old man. Worth a fortune on the surface, no doubt. But down here I'd rather have a bowl of gruel."

  Tamura ignored Yorin, his eyes locked on my own.

  "It's not a gemstone," I said slowly, almost reverently. Already, I could feel my stomach rumbling and I ached to snatch it from Tamura's hand. "It's a Source."

  Chapter 27

  In our third year at the academy, the Iron Legion himself came to see our class. Josef was regarded as the star pupil and already the tutors were grooming me to support him. It wasn't just because we refused to leave each other's side. Josef was supposed to be one of Orran's most powerful weapons against the Terrelans and I was there to help him, to protect him and keep him loyal. We were both attuned to six Sources and able to hold five at once. Yet Josef was special. A genius with the use of magic, in both practical and impractical practises. Everything he tried, he took to like a bird to the wing. That is to say, with lots of trepidation, some panicked flapping, followed swiftly by glorious soaring above the heads of all his fellow students. He was leagues ahead of me in our studies, but it was not something he ever lauded over me, or any of us. He was that rarest of creatures, with power, knowledge, and humility all wrapped up in one. Not many of us can claim that. I know I can't. I have often wielded great power in my life, and it has ever made me anything but humble.

  But if Josef was special, then the Iron Legion was extraordinary. Prince Loran Tow Orran, the greatest of Orran Sourcerers. Generations of breeding and experimentation resulted in a Sourcerer attuned to ten Sources, and rumour had it he could hold seven in his stomach at a time. Not only that, he could hold them for far longer than most.

  It's a sad fact that the more Sources a Sourcerer holds onto, the more quickly those Sources start to kill them. I realised this around my third year, that all Sources killed the wielder. Some just got around to it faster. Attunement just meant a Sourcerer could withstand the pressures on their body for a little longer. But the magic would still kill them. We were simply not meant to wield it.

  We were lined up in front of the Iron Legion and he looked at each of us. I remember him as being tall, regal-looking with a scholarly baring that belied his apparent ferocity in the war. It wasn't the first time I had seen the prince, but it was the first time since our arrival at the ac
ademy. I don't think he was impressed with me. He was certainly interested in Josef, and perhaps even more so, in the bitch-whore.

  I thought the prince was going to give us a lecture or maybe even a demonstration of his powers. We had all heard the rumours in the mess hall and common areas. Students talked about the man as though he were the true emperor. Some said he was the most powerful Sourcerer who had ever lived. Others claimed to have seen the way he was able to combine magic from different schools. No one else could combine different magics, to even try always resulted in a rather dramatic and fatal explosion. A magical explosion is not like a physical one, it sends out wild, uncontrolled magic in all directions. It can tear the world asunder, rip holes in the very fabric of existence. No other Sourcerer was fool enough to even try what the Iron Legion could do at a whim.

  I was already deep into my theoretical studies of Impomancy and I had seen many of the beasts and monsters it was possible to summon. Khark hounds held a peculiar fascination for me back then. They look just like wolves, only instead of hair they are covered in sharp spines. That, and they are also roughly three times the size of a wolf. I remember wondering how it would be possible to fight one of them. Then I heard students talking about the Iron Legion using Impomancy and Ingomancy together to coat a razorback in iron, protecting the few vulnerable areas the beast had. That was a crude combination of magics, but a potent one. I have since seen the ways Prince Loran combines the schools of magic in far more nuanced methods. His imagination and resourcefulness have long terrified me. And there is not much that truly scares me.

  As the Iron Legion stared down at us, even the oldest of us still a child, I thought him ancient. He was tall and straight-backed, but his skin hung on his bones and his hair was grey and brittle. All but his eyes seemed old. Those eyes were bright and full of life and youth. I asked Josef, after the prince was gone, how old the Iron Legion really was. I thought Josef was lying to me, making me the butt of his joke. He told me Prince Loran was, even then, just nearing his thirtieth year.

  Chronomancy does strange things to the body, speeding up and slowing down time within the natural processes. I am glad it is an attunement I do not have. Even now as I look down at wrinkled hands, I think I have had too little time afforded me. I often think about making my way back to Ro'shan and asking the Rand to turn back my years. I know she can. I just don't think I could pay the price.

  You might wonder just how deep the need to swallow that Source went. The feel of magic inside, sitting heavy in the stomach is not quite an addiction, but in some ways it is far worse. Imagine waking up one day and finding you are unable to walk. You would soon miss the power your legs had once given you. You would soon miss the simple ability of being able to move from one end of a room to another. The knowledge that you no longer have that ability is only made worse by the memories of once having it. As time goes on you might start to cope with the lack, but you would always remember what it was like to be able to walk, and you would miss it. The feeling is much like that. I remembered what it was like to hold fire in my hands, to cross miles in a single step through a portal, to hurl rocks through the sky with a wave of my hand. I remembered it all, but I no longer had the power. And I fucking missed it!

  "That's a Source?" Yorin asked. Tamura was still holding it in his hand. Even with a layer of rock dust I could feel the power inside of it. My stomach gave another rumble.

  "Doesn't look like much, does it?" I said, my voice distant to my ears.

  "First time I've ever seen one, I think," Yorin said with a shrug. "Unless the kids down in the Yarters were playing with magic marbles." It was the first snippet of personal information Yorin had ever volunteered. Yarters was the name given to the poorer section of Terrelan's capital city, Juntorrow. Another time I might have pressed, asked for more, but I was too busy staring at the power in Tamura's hand.

  "They come in all shapes and sizes." I spared Yorin a grin. "The smaller round ones tend to be easier to swallow." My smile turned to a grimace. "Easier to bring up again as well."

  Tamura was still holding the Source out towards me, his eyes locked on mine with a disturbing intensity.

  "So, with that you can... what?" Yorin asked.

  "I don't know," I said. "I have no idea what type of Source it is. It might give me the power to create us all a portal out of here. Or it could make my brain melt out of my nose. The only way to determine what sort of Source it is, would be to swallow it, and there's a good chance it would kill me. Actually, it will kill me no matter what. It's just a question of how fast it will go about it."

  Yorin shook his head. "What?"

  "Sources are magic in a sort of crystalline form," I continued. "We don't know where they come from or how they are made, but what we do know is that they clearly were not designed to be ingested. They give Sourcerers the ability to use magic, but they also damage the Sourcerer's body. If it's a Source I'm attuned to, I might be able to keep it inside for ten days before the magic starts to act on my body. If I'm not attuned, I would have minutes at best."

  "The magic starts to act on your body?" Yorin asked, sceptical.

  I nodded. "A Pyromancy Source would start to melt and freeze my insides. A Geomancy Source would start to turn my limbs to stone. An Empamancy Source would make me fade away so nothing was left but disembodied emotions."

  "That's possible?" You would think such a thought might scare even Yorin, but he just sounded curious.

  "Have you ever walked through an emotion?" I asked. "A place that made you feel fear or joy without any reason why."

  Yorin sniffed. "My mother used to say that was ghosts passing through."

  I snorted. "Your mother was as stupid as most people then."

  I didn't see him coming. I should have, especially after insulting his mother, but I was too focused on the Source in front of me. Before I knew what was happening, Yorin spun me around and shoved me up against the pillar. Tamura watched on. Whether the old man cared or not I'll never know.

  "HEY!" Isen's shout echoed about the hall. "What are you doing?"

  Yorin stared at me and I stared back. I could feel my heart thumping, but I still felt cold. Eventually the pit fighter let me go and stepped back. Some threats don't need words.

  "Get the fuck away from her!" Isen snarled as he skidded to a halt beside me. I saw bright steel in his hands and wondered where he had found a sword. Yorin saw the weapon too and backed up another step.

  "Got a bit of metal in your hands and suddenly you think we're equal?" Yorin asked.

  "Are you alright?" Hardt said. I just nodded and turned my attention back to Isen and Yorin.

  "I have had enough of you," Isen snarled. His face twisted in a way that should have made him seem ugly, but infatuation dulls even the most obvious signs. "Sure, you beat me in a fist fight, but I've always been better with a sword." Isen dropped into a ready stance, sword held out in front of him, ready to attack.

  I realised then that no one was going to stop the fight. Isen had been itching for a real chance ever since Yorin beat him in the arena and left him bruised, bloody, and alive. Yorin wouldn't stop it, though I had yet to fathom his reasons. Hardt was too passive, despite his size, and I think he believed Isen could win. I think he believed we were better off without Yorin. Just a day ago I would have agreed, but I was starting to think otherwise. There were things watching us from the dark, and Yorin could fight.

  Tamura closed in again, still holding out his hand. I knew he was offering me the Source. My stomach growled at the thought of it. My limbs tingled with the possibility of power. I found myself reaching for it and clenched my fist.

  "ENOUGH!" I screamed, inserting myself between Isen and Yorin.

  Both men stopped. I often wonder how strange we looked to the things watching us from the dark. Both men were far larger than me and muscled as those who were used to fighting. Yet there I was, barely a woman, standing between them and neither one moved. A part of me realised the hall had grown darker,
the lights from the pillars and lanterns seemed less bright. The others realised it too.

  "I understand you two don't like each other." My voice was edged with anger. I have always thought I sound rather commanding when angry. "But I. Don't. Fucking. Care! Right now, I need you both. Because one way or another I am getting out of here and seeing the sky again, and both of you are coming with me even if I have to knock you bloody senseless and drag you the rest of the way."

  Yorin shrugged and stood up straight. Maybe it was his lofty attitude that Isen hated so much. Isen, for his part, held his sword up for a few moment's longer, his hands twisting around the hilt and his jaw clenching. Then he let the blade drop and shook his head.

  "I saw him attack you," Isen hissed. Yorin snorted and walked away.

  "What you saw was a man telling me not to insult his mother," I said. "I think it was actually quite polite in a Yorin sort of way."

  Now that the threat of the conflict was over, I felt my emotions warring inside. A part of me was happy that Isen cared, happy that he ran to my protection. Another part of me wanted to swallow the Source and use its magic to teach Isen just how little protection I needed. In the end, I settled for a compromise and ignored the issue completely.

  "Where did you find a sword?" I asked.

  "We found an armoury." Isen smiled, much of his anger already forgotten. "Everything in there is completely intact. Cupboards, chairs, weapons."

  "There's enough there for us all to arm ourselves," Hardt said. I noticed the big man carried no weapons himself.

  "It wouldn't be much use for me. I don't know how to fight." It was hard for me to admit that to Isen.

  "I could teach you." He smiled at me and I felt a strange flutter in my stomach at the thought of being so close, working and sweating together. I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything. That was when Tamura approached again, still holding the Source. I felt my eyes drawn to it and let out a ragged breath.