Power poured from her and through the groeliin, and the sense of the resistance disappeared.
Isandra released her connection, sagging backward.
Jassan was there, grabbing her arms, holding her up.
The other Antrilii were unarmed, their swords place around the groeliin, leaving them with no way to defend themselves.
Novan took his staff back and tapped it on the ground, manehlin pouring from it.
“Historian?” Jassan asked.
“I cannot tell,” Novan said.
“I think it worked,” Isandra said. “At least, it should have worked. There was resistance, and I managed to overcome it. If nothing else…”
If nothing else, she had done all that she could, and there was no other way for her to help the groeliin. If this failed, then there might not be any way to overwhelm these larger groeliin and restore them.
She unsheathed her sword, preparing for the possibility that she might need to use it.
The groeliin was silent and other than its breathing, it barely moved.
Ropes were shredded near the groeliin, no longer restraining the creature. The places where the groeliin had been injured, both legs and arms, had been healed. Had that been the effect of Isandra’s manehlin, or was that simply a matter of the groeliin being able to restore themselves?
Jassan reached for his sword, but Novan touched his wrist, pulling him back.
“Give it a moment, Antrilii.”
“If this creature attacks—”
“I know what will happen if this creature attacks.”
They waited, and moments passed before the groeliin opened its eyes. The darkness that had been present around the groeliin, the energy—or manehlin—had faded.
This time, it was clear that the manehlin that surrounded the groeliin was changed. A pale haze hung around it, almost white. The groeliin pushed on the haze, pushing against her.
Isandra held her hands up. “It’s okay. We want to help you.”
The groeliin made a sound deep in its throat that sounded like a growl.
Jassan started forward, but Novan grabbed him again, pulling him back.
“Patience, Jassan. We need to give it the appropriate amount of time to know whether what Isandra did was effective.”
The groeliin stared at them and then sat up.
In the confines of the cave, the creature was massive. Outside, when fighting against these creatures, the groeliin appeared large, but in such a small space, it was terrifying. Isandra was the only one armed with her sword; the swords of the Antrilii were still embedded in the stone. If the groeliin attacked, it would be up to her to defend the Antrilii, and as tired as she was after the effort required to pull as much power as she had, she wasn’t certain she would be useful. The historian might be able to help and could use his staff, but even that might not be enough.
“We want to help you,” Isandra repeated.
The groeliin made another sound, this one softer, like a whisper. It almost seemed as if words were formed, though she couldn’t make them out.
Isandra glanced over at Novan. “What do we do now?”
The historian stared at the groeliin. “I don’t know. If you restored this creature—”
“There was no restoration. The creature was born to darkness,” Jassan said.
“Then if she shifted it away from the darkness and toward creation, then we should have some way of knowing.”
“We can’t simply leave it here,” Jassan said.
“Why not?” Novan asked. “If the groeliin is no longer a threat, why couldn’t we leave it here?”
“We don’t know that it’s no longer a threat. We don’t know anything about it. It is possible that the groeliin remains the same threat that we thought it was before.”
“Don’t we?” Novan took a step forward, making his way to the rim of the teralin swords. He pulled one from the ground and tossed it to Jassan. Novan stepped into the space left by the missing sword, almost within reach of the groeliin. He held his hands up. “I mean you no harm. I would help you.”
The groeliin shifted its gaze from Novan to Isandra before looking back to Novan again. Was that hunger in its eyes? Did it see Novan as a threat, something that it would need to destroy? If it managed to get past Novan’s staff, there would be little stopping the massive groeliin from harming the historian.
“You’re safe. What you feel is the power of creative teralin,” Novan said. “It flows through you. I feel it.”
The groeliin whimpered. It was the same sound the other groeliin made, one that made her think of a wounded animal.
There was no anger to the groeliin, not as there had been before. Regardless of what else they did, she didn’t feel comfortable with the idea of destroying this creature, not if it was no longer a threat.
“We should go,” Isandra said.
“What of these creatures?” Jassan asked.
“I think we leave them.”
“Even if you were successful, what is to prevent the groeliin from shifting them back?”
It was a good question. It was one that Isandra didn’t have an answer for. She believed they had managed to help these two groeliin, and that she had shifted them away from the darkness—and the destruction—but what if the other groeliin managed to change them back?
Could they take the groeliin with them?
Doing so would be dangerous to the Antrilii, and would take a measure of trust that Isandra didn’t think would be appropriate.
“How far are we from the city?”
“A few days,” Jassan said.
“What if we leave a few Antrilii here to observe the groeliin?” She watched her husband’s face, worried that he might reject her suggestion. She wasn’t convinced that it was the right suggestion, but it was better than destroying the groeliin, especially as she wanted to know whether the effort she had put into trying to help these creatures had made any difference. If the groeliin’s polarity could be reversed, wasn’t that something they should know?
And if they could be changed, could they become allies to them against the rest of the groeliin? Could these groeliin help them counter the effect of other groeliin?
It seemed too much to hope for, but for them to succeed—and for the Antrilii to finally set down their swords and be allowed a chance for peace—they would need to be successful.
“We will leave three men, and we will ask two of the merahl to remain,” Jassan said. “We can rotate every few days, but this won’t last, Isandra. If the creatures show any sign of threat…”
“If they do, of course I would expect the Antrilii to react. If they don’t…”
“If they don’t, then you will need to decide what to do with them.”
Isandra had already begun to think that they couldn’t be brought back to the city, but maybe there was some other way of using the groeliin. It might require bringing more of the Antrilii out here to hunt the groeliin, though to capture, not to kill.
“I will stay with them at first,” Isandra said.
Jassan shook his head. “I don’t think that’s wise,” he said.
“Why not? You would question your wife?”
“I would question how much strength you have remaining. After everything you’ve gone through, I fear that you won’t be strong enough to counter these groeliin if it comes to that.”
“Then stay with me.”
“Did you think that I would not?”
“The historian can stay, too.”
“I would stay,” Novan said.
Jassan considered her for a long moment before turning to his Antrilii and whispering quietly to them. When he turned back to her, he shook his head, breathing out a sigh. “It seems as if we all intend to stay. You have piqued the interest of the rest of the Antrilii.”
“I have?”
“The others would like to see whether you have truly changed the groeliin. If you have, it means much for our people.”
“I know it does
.”
Isandra looked at the groeliin, noting the way that it still lay in place, not moving despite the fact that no ropes bound it any longer. It rested with its eyes closed, breathing slowly, the pale haze surrounding it pulsing slightly.
What did that mean? What would become of this creature? And could she really help other groeliin?
Chapter Sixteen
Ahmaean called to Jakob. He had a sense of power surging around him, though didn’t know how much of it was damahne power. If there was any that was damahne, he had to find it.
“You don’t have any way of detecting the others?” Malaya asked.
Jakob glanced over Malaya, shaking his head. “I could trace them along the fibers, but I’m not sure that’s the safest thing for me to do.”
“Because they can learn about you.”
“I don’t have a problem with them learning about me, but I do fear what might happen if they learn about their damahne abilities before we know whether they should.”
“How do you know who should learn about them?”
It was a fair question. Should he be the one to decide who should be able to access their damahne abilities, or should they be allowed the same opportunity that he had to discover what they could do?
In any other time, he would have said that each person should be allowed the opportunity to discover his or her own abilities, but this was a different time, and he wasn’t certain that all should be allowed to reach their damahne abilities, at least until he knew what they might do with them. How much could be lost if some with damahne abilities decided to attack? What if they were coordinated by Raime?
That was his biggest concern. There was no evidence that Raime had been successful with any other than Scottan, but if Raime had managed to get through to Scottan and twist him, then it made sense that he would have done the same with others he’d taken. Why should Scottan be Raime’s only target, other than for the fact that it would hurt Jakob the most?
“I might have to connect to them and see who could be helpful,” he said.
Malaya frowned. The more she learned about her abilities, the more she began to question him. That was good. He wanted to have someone with similar abilities question him and ensure that he didn’t act too impulsively, especially with everything they were facing. She had a different perspective and hadn’t faced the same horrors he had. That was both helpful and difficult.
“When you connect to them, you know what can happen.”
“What other way might there be for us to know who could be… helpful?” He almost said useful, but that wasn’t quite what he meant. They would have to be useful, but that implied that he expected something from them. There had to be others, which was why he’d gone looking for them. Malaya could help, and he needed her ability to see with less bias than he had.
“I don’t know. If they suffered as we did and awakened as we did, then I do think we need to find them so they can understand what happened to them.”
Jakob didn’t know how many in other cities suffered from the madness, but he anticipated finding places similar to the santrium where he would need to help, even if it meant taking them to a temple to see if the priests could offer a level of support.
“Why Gomald?” Malaya asked.
Jakob shrugged. “I’ve heard their new king is sympathetic.” And he had heard that Allay had once been in Vasha serving as a delegate, much like how Thomason Commity had been chosen. He hadn’t been able to stay with the Magi long enough on that journey to learn what they intended for the delegates, but with what he’d begun to see, he suspected it had to do with some way of reaching out to other nations, something the Magi had only reluctantly done.
“Richard died during his ill-fated attack on Thealon.”
Jakob nodded. That was something else that he’d heard. He suspected Richard had been killed by groeliin. Would the new king know? Would he have a particular feeling one way or another regarding the Deshmahne? Gom Aaldia was too close to the southern continent for them to have avoided exposure to the Deshmahne. He didn’t think the dark priests had taken hold here, but maybe they had and it would be one more thing for Jakob to deal with.
“The santrium in Chrysia was away from the heart of the city. I expect the same will be true here,” Jakob said.
“Do you think ahmaean will allow you to find it?”
Jakob nodded. “I think it’s possible.”
That was what he had counted on, if only because he needed to find them quickly. There would be many other cities he would need to visit, and if it took a long time to find those who had fallen to the madness, it might not be something he’d have time to do. As it was, he felt like there wasn’t time for everything that he had to do, which left him on edge, feeling a constant anxiety that he wasn’t doing enough for anyone.
Jakob shifted to the center of the city, near the palace, and waited for Malaya to join him. It was something that they had taken to doing, as a way of more training. He would shift, and she would follow. Sometimes, they would do the reverse, forcing Jakob to practice how easily he could find her when she shifted. He had some talent in it, as did Malaya. He didn’t know whether that was because he was the one to have awoken her or if it was a natural talent they both had.
When she appeared, he smiled. After struggling for so long to understand his abilities, it was nice for him to have another who shared what he could do, even if she didn’t know anything more about it than he did. Together, they could continue to work through what they did know. She had begun to attempt glimpsing the fibers—not walking back as Jakob did—and had shown an ability with it. There were things that she had discovered that Jakob had only recently learned, though there were still some things that she couldn’t do— and maybe never would be able to do. Alyta had gifted him with her ahmaean, but also that of many other damahne. That wasn’t the case with Malaya. So that might be why she couldn’t do anything more than what she had managed.
“See if you can detect what I do,” he suggested.
Jakob pushed out with his ahmaean. He let it sweep around him, a cloud of energy that flowed from him and out into the city.
Would he pick up any others with a connection to ahmaean?
The way he did this was one of the first things he had seen from the damahne back when he believed they were gods, and when he had his first vision. There would be a connection, a reverberation of power, if he connected with another who had ability with ahmaean. He felt that connection to Malaya, a sense that had grown familiar to him.
The challenge with using his ahmaean like this was that there was a limit to the range. He could push away from himself, but he had only so much strength and reach with his ahmaean. As it flowed through the city, he wished he had something made of teralin to augment his ahmaean.
But then remembered he did.
Jakob gripped the hilt of Neamiin and felt the additional ahmaean within his sword and pulled that into him, using that to add to what he could naturally draw.
There came a sense of ahmaean, though it was closer than he thought it would be.
“The palace,” he said.
Malaya looked up at the massive structure rising high above the city. A central tower climbed higher than the rest, with two sprawling wings spreading out from it on either side. It had none of the majesty of the Magi palace, though there weren’t many places that Jakob had seen that did. The Tower of the Gods did, though that was impressive for different reasons, and those had nothing to do with its structure—at least, not entirely due to its structure. With the Tower, it was more about the ahmaean the walls contained, something that Jakob still didn’t fully understand. The damahne had gifted their ahmaean to other damahne when they passed, not like the daneamiin who gifted their ahmaean into the forest or the ancient city.
“Why did it take you using your sword for you to detect it?” she asked.
“I’m not sure.”
As he maintained his connection, he thought that he did understand.
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There was teralin.
Not charged teralin, though. This was neutral teralin, which would pose challenges unless he charged it. Would the king know if he did?
Jakob pushed on the teralin he detected, and slowly it began to change. There was a massive amount of teralin in the city—much more than Jakob would have expected. Could the Magi know that it existed here? There had been teralin in Vasha, so it was possible that they did. Jakob still didn’t fully understand the purpose of teralin to the ancient damahne, but there had been one. Enough of one for wars to have been fought over the metal.
When he changed the polarity, he suddenly felt a surge of ahmaean.
“There they are,” he whispered.
“Even I feel them,” Malaya said.
They shifted.
When they appeared, they did so within a large room brightly lit with lanterns. Six people sat on comfortable-looking chairs around a table in the middle of the room, eating. They all looked up when he appeared.
“I think we’ve found them,” Malaya said.
Jakob thought she was right. They were all thin—nearly as gaunt as those from Chrysia Jakob had helped, reminding him of Scottan or Paden.
The nearest person lurched to his feet and scrambled away, darting for a door on the far side of the room. Malaya glanced at Jakob, who shook his head. He wouldn’t chase them.
“How many of you suffered from the madness?” he asked.
He pressed out with his ahmaean, letting it swirl over them, trying to place a soothing sense within the ahmaean. He wasn’t as skilled as Anda at using his ahmaean in such a way, but he tried to use what he remembered the damahne having done to him in visions, and let it wash over them.
The nearest woman nodded. “We all suffered from the madness.”
“This is all who remain in the city? Where are the others?” Jakob asked. A city the size of Gom Aaldia should have more than six people who had recovered. Even Chrysia had several dozen.
The Great Betrayal (The Lost Prophecy Book 8) Page 15