“And that seems reasonable to you?”
“It would have before, but now it terrifies me, though that’s probably just a symptom of my sickness.” She paused, then tentatively, she asked, “What will you do with me?”
That was a good question. He certainly didn’t intend to torture her, but beyond that, he had no idea. “What would you like to do?”
“Can we kiss?”
Will laughed. “Be reasonable.”
It was her turn to frown. “That was reasonable. I didn’t ask you to mount me. You were very clear about your monogamy the last time I visited.” When she saw him rolling his eyes, she switched to a different topic. “Does anyone need killing? After what I’ve been through, it would be nice to relieve some stress.”
I’ve changed my mind, he thought, she’s still Tailtiu. “You can’t kill humans. We’ve been over that—”
“—unless you order me to,” she corrected.
“And I’m never going to do that,” he finished. “Just because it’s possible doesn’t mean I’ll allow it.”
“Surely you called me here for a reason. Isn’t there something you need?”
“Seeing you whole and in good health is enough.”
Disbelief showed on her face. “You dealt with Mother, just to make sure I was healthy?”
Will nodded. “I didn’t even know she was torturing you, otherwise I probably would have pressed her sooner.”
“Don’t do it again—please. She’s too dangerous. You have me now, and if for some reason you absolutely must deal with her again in the future, let me do it,” she insisted.
Once again, he found himself astounded by the change in her personality. “It wouldn’t matter. Grandmother has her eye on me. If she decides she wants something, or has some devious plan involving me, it won’t matter whether I talk to her in person or through an intermediary. She’ll find a way to get what she wants. But I appreciate your concern.”
“That may be true, but she has no hold over me anymore. I may be able to help more than you realize.” She paused, then added, “You’re sure you don’t need me?”
He smiled. “I’ll call if something comes up. Otherwise, just enjoy your freedom.”
“I will try,” she answered, and then Tailtiu’s body blurred. A moment later, a large owl rose into the air and flew away. Still unsure what to think, Will shook his head and turned back toward home.
He was surprised to see a carriage in front of the house. By the crest, he could tell it belonged to the Nerrow family. Will nodded at the driver who stood beside it and went to the front door. When he got there, he could just hear the sound of Laina’s voice, but no matter how he enhanced his hearing he couldn’t make out what she was saying. He glanced back at the coachman and nodded.
It was his home, but he couldn’t be seen to be eavesdropping, so he changed plans and walked around the house to the servants’ entrance by the kitchen. The door there was locked. Anyone who came that way was supposed to knock, but that was no obstacle for Will. He lifted his hand, but even as he prepared to construct the unlocking spell, he felt it come together without effort. As he expressed his turyn, the spell took hold and the latch inside opened.
He stood there for a moment, surprised. His daily practices were paying off, since he had just reflex cast the spell. But why was it that one? I don’t practice it except once a day during my routine. Meanwhile, he was repetitively casting both the light-darts spell and the iron-body transformation every day, but although he had gotten rather fast with them, they were definitely not yet instinctive. What was the difference? Complexity? While the iron-body spell was much harder, the light-darts spell was actually simpler than the unlocking spell, so that couldn’t be it. Was it a function of time? He’d learned the unlocking spell well over a year ago.
He thought about asking Arrogan, but he knew the ring would just tell him it was an unpredictable result of the unique differences that were innate to every wizard. Pushing that aside, Will cast the chameleon spell on himself and then the silent armor spell. He smiled. It had been a while since he’d done any sneaking about.
Will carefully eased the door open, stepped inside, then closed it behind him. As an afterthought, he decided to practice Darla’s grey turyn technique. It was wild magic, even if the former assassin refused to admit it. It also wasn’t really grey, but Will thought of it that way. It was a method of making one’s turyn blend in with the world. In a certain sense, it was analogous to what the chameleon spell did with light, but in practice it was actually more versatile. When Will used it in crowded places, it rarely mattered whether he disguised himself in other ways—people just wouldn’t notice him, even if he was standing in plain sight.
Combined with the silent-armor spell and the chameleon spell it was even more effective. But he had no way of knowing just how much more effective it might be. Secretly he wanted to try using it to sneak up on the goddamn cat, but since he rarely knew where or when the cat would appear, his opportunities were limited.
Passing through the kitchen, he walked within inches of Jeremy, but the cook never looked up from the vegetables he was cleaning. Blake was nowhere to be seen, so Will adjusted his vision to that strange light that let him see the world as a ghostly world of translucent greys. After a moment he spotted the head servant, sitting at a desk in his room poring over a ledger of some sort. In the front parlor, Laina and Selene sat talking quietly. Will quickly returned his vision to normal, as the see-through variety of sight was not only confusing, but also made it difficult to walk without stumbling into nearby obstacles.
Down the hall, he came to the open doorway that led to the parlor and went inside without pausing. Neither his wife nor his sister looked up. Then he paused. Selene was crying. Why? She was fine when I left this morning!
“It’s just temporary,” said Laina soothingly, squeezing Selene’s hand.
Selene shook her head. “You don’t know that. He doesn’t know that. Even Arrogan doesn’t know for certain. This might never change.”
“You’re overthinking this,” Laina suggested. “Just take a deep breath and take one day at a time.”
Will jumped as Selene’s voice rang out sharply. “I’ve been taking it one day at a time! For months—and I’m still useless! I can’t do anything.”
“Give it time…”
“I don’t have time! Winter is almost over. It won’t be long before the army starts to move and Will with it, and here I am, powerless!”
Laina patted her friend on the shoulder. “You can still go with him even if—”
“I didn’t work this hard to follow along as a comfort woman,” growled Selene.
Will winced. ‘Comfort woman’ was the term used for some of the women who traveled with the supply train. Officially they were there to assist with ordinary jobs, but a large portion of them also made considerable coin providing companionship to lonely soldiers.
He had started out feeling curious and playful, but now a mild sense of guilt swept over him. Selene was his wife, and he knew she loved him, but this was not something she wanted him to see, and sneaking in to listen to it was a breach of her trust. It would hurt her pride if she knew he had seen her whining about her troubles. Quietly, he backed out of the room and moved down the hall to the front door.
Standing there, it occurred to him that being raised a princess under such an unforgiving father had made Selene extraordinarily stubborn when it came to hiding her weaknesses. Understanding didn’t make it easier to figure out how he could help her, though. Would it be easier for her if he showed her more of his own low moments, or would that merely reinforce her automatic impulse to remain strong for his sake? “This marriage shit is complicated,” he muttered to himself.
He opened the door and closed it with a thump before stumping about for a moment and using the boot scraper to clean a bit of mud from the soles of his footwear. That done, he walked down the hall and called out. Selene answered immediately, her voice clear and unt
roubled, “In the parlor, Will. We have a visitor.”
Laina smiled as he entered, then scowled, and finally gave him a quick embrace. Since temporarily sharing a body, he and his half-sister pretended not to get along, but in truth neither of them had quite gotten over the experience. Their souls still bore the scars of having to be separated after nearly fusing together. Will was gladder to see her than he could easily admit. “When did you come to Cerria?” he asked.
“At the beginning of the week,” Laina answered.
He gasped. “And you didn’t come to see us until now?”
“I was busy. Selene’s been positively brutal with her plan to organize supplies and wagons to help the army during the first phase of the campaign. Naturally, I had to come do the work for her.”
Selene took on a look of mock outrage. “And just a minute ago you insisted that you came because you didn’t trust anyone else to handle matters!” Then her eyes drifted down, noting a spot of mud on the rug. It was in a spot farther into the room than Will had yet come, but he knew it was likely from his earlier entrance. She frowned. “That’s odd. The rug was clean not long ago.”
Before she could think on it further, Will put together the cleaning spell she had originally designed and focused it on the floor, cleaning the rugs and the hardwood beneath them. “That should solve it,” he announced.
Laina frowned at him, and Selene gave him an envious look which made him feel even worse, given what he’d recently heard. He hurried to move the conversation along. “Is anyone hungry?”
Chapter 20
The next day Blake brought Will a note from Master Dugas, the head of the Engineering Department, who wanted him to come by for a visit. Will hadn’t interacted with the man on a personal level very many times since the attempted sabotage on the dam the previous year, so he was curious as to what he wanted.
A short walk across the campus and then through the Engineering building, and he found the Master’s office, but when he knocked he immediately noticed he wasn’t the only one who had been summoned. Two other notables were present: Master Courtney, the head of Wurthaven’s Research Department, and Master Salsbury, the head of the Artifice Department.
Master Courtney rose from his chair as soon as Master Dugas opened the door for Will. The older man gestured to Salsbury, and everyone followed him out of the room and down the hall. Will watched them go, unsure what was happening, but Dugas pulled on his arm. “Come along. This is for you.”
They followed the two other men down the hall and through a heavy iron door into a large workroom Will had never seen before. At one end there were ritual diagrams inscribed on the floor, while on the opposite end a forge and a spell-driven auto-hammer were the predominant features. In between were a variety of large tools, molds, supports, tables, and all manner of clamps and forms.
Overall, the room gave the impression that it was the result of a bizarre cross between a smithy, a foundry, and an artificer’s machine shop. Will blinked, then made a mental addition, and a ritualist’s workspace. “What is all this?” he asked.
Master Dugas gave him a wry grin. “It used to be one of my department’s workshops, but after these two got involved it’s turned into an unholy amalgamation of a lot of different things. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
Will glanced at the others, then pointed at himself. “Me?”
Master Courtney directed his attention to a rounded metal piece mounted on a strange table. Clamps held the edges, and the table itself had a complex spell diagram engraved upon it. “Recognize this?”
Will studied the metal for a moment. It appeared to be ordinary steel, well-polished and without a speck of rust showing, but as to what it was for—he bent down and looked at it from the side and realized it was two pieces, just like a… “Is this the breastplate I gave you to examine?” As he asked the question, he saw the faint lines of the Cath Bawlg’s claw marks across the front.
Professor Dugas nodded. “The very same. We finally managed to piece together the method for working the metal. With Master Salsbury’s help, we’ve managed to remove some metal from the sides and reshape it to meet your measurements.”
He frowned. “The scratches are still in the front. You couldn’t polish those out? And why does it look like ordinary steel now?” It had previously been a solid black with very little shimmer or shine.
Master Courtney smiled. “That’s a side effect of the table’s function. Otherwise we couldn’t have worked with it.”
Seeming irritated, Master Salsbury moved forward. “Don’t be cryptic. Let me explain.”
Meanwhile, Will was staring at the spell diagram on the table. He couldn’t be sure of its exact function with such a brief glance, but he’d studied similar designs over the past semester. “It’s a transducer, but what for? The metal doesn’t produce turyn.”
“Yes and no,” said Salsbury. “In the beginning, we were completely unable to work the metal and even after Master Courtney dug through the archives to see if we could find some clues from the notes left by the last of the mage-smiths. Fortunately, he did this and warned us before anyone died—”
“Died?” sputtered Will.
Master Salsbury reached over and twisted several winged knobs on the side of the table, then he pulled a lever, and the clamps holding the demon-steel breastplate opened, releasing it. It just lay there, of course, since he made no move to touch it, but the metal slowly changed color, losing its metallic shine and fading to a dull, light-devouring black. “The metal in its natural state, or its ground state, is a silvery color much like other metals, but whenever it is exposed to mechanical or kinetic forces it acts like a natural transducer, converting kinetic energy into void turyn. The black color that most magically sensitive people see is actually not a result of normal light. You’re actually sensing the presence of void turyn, or what some call ‘demonic’ turyn.”
Will swallowed. “Are you saying it’s poisonous to touch?”
“Not when its turyn capacitance is still well below its limits, but once the metal gets above sixty percent of its turyn capacity, it begins to radiate void-flame turyn, and at that point it becomes very dangerous. Anyone coming into contact with it at that point is liable to receive a lethal dose of demonic turyn. We still don’t understand exactly how the mage-smiths worked with such a dangerous substance, though, since it appears they handled the material directly.”
“I believe Lord Arenata can resolve that mystery for us, Master Salsbury,” said Master Courtney with a smug expression. It took Will a moment to realize the head of the research department was referring to him. He still wasn’t used to the title.
Salsbury gave Courtney a look of annoyance. “I know you’ve said His Grace is a natural transducer, but this is void turyn we’re talking about—”
Will interrupted, “Did the archives mention anything about the qualifications of the mage-smiths who worked with demon-steel?”
Master Dugas answered, “They had some sort of order classification, similar to what we use for spells today. As best we can tell, it simply refers to skill and experience. Personally, I think a second-order mage-smith would be equivalent to a journeyman wizard today, and third-order was probably similar to a master. Most of those allowed to work with such a rare metal were at least second-order.”
Will shook his head. “No, it refers to something more specific, and it wasn’t just the smiths. All wizards were ranked according to that system.” Reaching out, he put his hand on the breastplate and pulled, drawing the void turyn from it. The armor piece became a shiny metallic hue once more, and Will concentrated the demonic turyn above his other hand, forming it into a ball of black flame.
Master Salsbury hissed as he drew in a surprised breath of air. “Impossible!”
With an effort of will, he changed the turyn until it matched his own, then silently absorbed it. “It’s entirely possible, and Master Courtney is correct, except about the ‘natural’ part of it. My ability is a result of trai
ning. It’s essentially what the first-, second-, and third-order designations refer to.”
“So what would you have been classified as, Mister Cartwright?” asked Master Courtney, ignoring Will’s title.
“Third-order, although as Master Dugas noted, I think second-order could do this almost as well, and first-order probably couldn’t.”
“First-order, is that what they would have classified us as?” asked Jason Dugas.
Will paused to organize his thoughts in a diplomatic fashion before responding, “Begging your pardon, Master Dugas, but no. The classification had nothing to do with knowledge or seniority. Most wizards at the time were first-order, but everyone at Wurthaven today would have been considered zero-order.”
Dugas mulled it over, then repeated, “Zero-order…”
Alfred Courtney laughed. “Don’t be so courteous, Mister Cartwright.” He pointed at the other two professors and then at himself. “They would have called us apprentices. Mister Cartwright has explained some of the training to me, in vague terms, but hopefully we can start training a select few according to his techniques next year.”
“To hell with the students,” said Salsbury. “I’d like to learn these techniques.”
Courtney cackled. “You’re too old. We all are.”
Will nodded, thinking of Selene. Was that her problem? Had she learned too late? Would she be unable to practice magic in a meaningful way for the rest of her days?
Master Courtney waved a hand at Salsbury. “You’ve gotten us off the topic. Finish explaining.”
Todd Salsbury cleared his throat. “So, as I was saying. Any movement, pressure, you name it, causes the metal to generate void turyn. That turyn remains within the metal, giving it its characteristic look, but it also increases its strength.”
Will interrupted again, “Yield strength or tensile strength?”
Disciple of War (Art of the Adept Book 4) Page 18