The Gift of Madness (The Lost Prophecy Book 7)

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The Gift of Madness (The Lost Prophecy Book 7) Page 9

by D. K. Holmberg


  “What if they did not?”

  “I don’t think we have ever found a groeliin infant to know.” Novan turned away from where he stared at the mountains and the city. What did his eyes see when he stared? What did he manage to make out with his perceptive ability? “Why is this suddenly important to you? Do you think to destroy the groeliin yourself? I do not think the damahne have ever burdened themselves with such a task, so I don’t know how difficult you’ll find it, but I would also suggest that it’s not necessary. The Antrilii are well trained at stopping them. This is not something you need to do.”

  “It’s something Anda said to me once.” When Novan arched a brow, waiting, Jakob took a deep breath. The air held the fragrance of hidden flowers and had a pleasant earthiness to it. There was a serenity here that wasn’t found on the other side of the mountains. Had he ever visited here in one of his visions? It was hard to remember where he had gone in his visions now that he had so many of them.

  “What did Anda share with you?” Novan asked when Jakob had been silent for too long.

  “That all beings of power are descended from the damahne. She said it about the daneamiin, but it would be the same for the Magi and the Antrilii.”

  “And you think it would be the same for the groeliin?”

  Jakob nodded slowly. “What if it is? What if the groeliin are descended from the damahne?” If they were, and if it was true that the Magi and Antrilii weren’t that far removed from the daneamiin, it meant the groeliin couldn’t be, either. That was the most troubling.

  “You think the teralin has tainted the groeliin the same way that it tainted the Deshmahne?”

  Jakob sighed. Leave it to Novan to put into the simplest of terms what had troubled him so—and quickly. It had taken Jakob a while to realize why it bothered him that there might be a connection between the groeliin and teralin, but once he saw it, there was no way for him to unsee it. Teralin polarity could be shifted. Did that mean the same could be said for the groeliin?

  And what would happen if he encountered one of the powerful groeliin? Do they have actual negative polarity? Would he be able to change it? He had failed when confronted by the creature in Chrysia, but he hadn’t known what he attempted at the time. If he faced them now, he would have to try and switch the polarity. He had no evidence that it would work, but what else was there for him to try?

  “I think it likely.”

  “Which means you would intend to change it.”

  Jakob studied Novan. “You say that as if I should not consider such a thing.”

  Novan scratched his pointed chin. “That’s not it. Have you given much thought to teralin itself?”

  “Other than that the metal is strange.”

  “Strange would be a simple way of describing it, but think of what it’s like when in neutral form. There’s no power to it, nothing that would make it remarkable. It’s only when it takes on a certain potential that it has the power that it acquires.”

  “I don’t think that’s exactly right.” When Novan frowned, Jakob pressed on. “The damahne that I can reach think of teralin as a part of creation, but they seem to recognize the potential within it. There is the potential for both creation and destruction.”

  “And you believe the same could be said about those tainted by it.”

  He frowned. “That wasn’t quite where I was going. The damahne recognized that teralin in neutral form can prevent them from shifting. In one of the visions I had of Shoren, I was taken back to a time when it existed deep beneath the Tower in great quantities, making it difficult, if not impossible, for them to shift to and from that part of the Tower.”

  Novan sighed. “I forget what kinds of connections you have.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Shoren.” He said the name wistfully. “The guild has many texts referring to the city Shoren Aimielen, and historians have long suspected it was the name of an ancient god, but for you to have somehow managed to speak to him…”

  “It’s two damahne. Aimielen was his wife.”

  Novan reached into his pocket and withdrew a notebook and quickly jotted something down, mumbling to himself as he did. Had he not known, or was he looking for confirmation? The daneamiin knew about Aimielen, and Anda even mentioned singing her praises, but given how long ago they had lived, it was possible that knowledge had been lost to those outside of the daneamiin.

  “What else have you learned from Shoren about teralin?”

  Jakob shook his head. “Only that they disapprove of its use in the creation of weapons. When we needed to stop Raime, I pulled a sword from the stone of one of the mountain caves…”

  Would it still be there?

  He hadn’t considered checking in this time. What would he find if he traveled there?

  “You still haven’t answered,” Novan said.

  “You want to know why I brought us here?” Jakob said.

  Novan smiled. “I think that’s a reasonable request. The why is often the beginning to understanding. You wish to stop the groeliin.”

  “I wish to stop Raime. Stopping the groeliin is a part of that, though not the entire part.”

  And it might not be only about stopping the groeliin. If what he had begun to suspect was accurate, then he might not even want to stop them, but rather try to understand them. That was what he was trying to explain to Novan.

  “Can you work with the Antrilii?” Jakob asked.

  “I have visited Farsea before, but they aren’t terribly fond of what they consider outlanders.”

  “I need you to convince them. I need you to do whatever it takes so you can discover what they know about the groeliin. As you said, they have faced the groeliin for a thousand years. If anyone would know anything about them, it would be the Antrilii.”

  Novan studied him for a moment before nodding. “I will do what I can. How will I reconnect with you?”

  “I’ll find you when I need you.”

  “Otherwise, you leave me stranded here?”

  Jakob smiled. “I doubt that you’re ever stranded.”

  Novan grinned. “No. Perhaps you are right. What of you? Where are you going?”

  “I need to find what I can about where the groeliin took those who were recovered from the madness, but I fear that if I wait too long, it will be too late.”

  “I wish you didn’t have to do this alone.”

  “I don’t know that anyone else could come with me, not for this.”

  “If you brought the others with you…”

  “They’re not ready. It’s possible they could be, but they aren’t quite yet.”

  If his plan worked, if he was somehow able to get the new damahne—especially Scottan—to help him, he thought that he could use them in the future, but for now, he would have to do this alone.

  “When do you plan to begin?”

  “Immediately. I must first see what I can learn, but other parts of what I need to do might take longer.”

  Novan tapped his staff on the ground and nodded. “I hope this is not the last time I see you, Jakob Nialsen.”

  “I hope the same.”

  Novan took a deep breath and clapped Jakob on the shoulder, squeezing briefly before releasing him. As he did, there was a swirl of ahmaean—enough that Jakob suspected it was intentional. He was never certain with Novan. The historian had greater control of his ahmaean than he let on, but not so much that Jakob knew how much he was able to do.

  He closed his eyes, and he shifted.

  When he opened them, he was inside a tunnel, with teralin pressing in all around him. It seemed as if it hadn’t been that long since he’d been here, but time had changed the tunnel. There was a dampness to it, and the air stank from the smell of teralin. Jakob focused on it, noting that most of it seemed positively charged, which did not surprise him. The last time he had been here, Shoren had changed the polarity of the ore within this tunnel.

  Jakob made his way through it, following to where he remembered battli
ng Raime in groeliin form. The tunnel didn’t end here, narrowing as it retreated into the rock. There was evidence of activity, markings along the wall.

  Not just markings, but scratches on the stone.

  Why would there be scratches, and who could do that?

  He unsheathed his sword and continued down the darkened tunnel. It continued to narrow, and he finally reached a point where he could go no further. He could feel the pressure of teralin along the walls as it continued down the narrowed tunnel, deeper into the mountain. Here, the teralin was not positively charged. Shoren had not come back this far. But at least it was not negatively charged. Heat from the metal pressed around him, and he pushed against it, using knowledge gained from Shoren to shift the polarity from its neutral state to the positive polarity.

  Light surged for a moment before fading.

  The walls shifted.

  Jakob had no other way to describe what he saw, but the walls of the tunnel seemed to retreat, giving a little more space to continue.

  Jakob traced his hand along the stone, feeling the heat radiating off the walls. A trail of sweat ran down Jakob’s face as he continued down the expanded tunnel.

  After a while, he reached a point where he once again could go no further. From here, teralin continued to trail through the mountain.

  He didn’t know what it was that had drawn him here, but there was something about this place that he felt as if he knew, more than what he remembered from his vision.

  What had he hoped to gain by coming here? There wasn’t anything in this place for him, and the groeliin that had been the unfortunate host for Raime and attacked Shoren and him was long dead.

  But the fact that Raime had come here meant there had to be something about this place that was important to him. Jakob needed to learn all he could about Raime so that he could find a way to finally end him.

  Why here?

  And maybe there was no significance to this place. Maybe it was nothing more than the fact that there was a significant amount of teralin within the mountain, and that in his groeliin form he had been compelled to come here.

  There was a certain comfort in the solitude of being here. There wasn’t a threat that he might be attacked, not with all of the positively charged teralin around him. Few would even be able to reach this place. If any came upon him, he thought he would be safe.

  Novan’s words stuck with them. Jakob needed help. He knew that he needed help, but he didn’t know who he could turn to. The new damahne he’d left in the Tower did not yet have the necessary abilities to help him. And he didn’t have the necessary time to walk them back along the fibers to help them grasp their connection to the past so that they could learn about who they were, and what they were.

  He had considered looking for nemerahl, but other than searching the Old Forest—a place he thought he would have found nemerahl if they remained anywhere—there was no place for him to look. Other than the fibers.

  It was strange to think that the nemerahl’s connection to the fibers might be the key for him, but what else might there be?

  Jakob made his way back to the place in the caverns where he and Shoren had battled Raime in groeliin form. Positively charged teralin was all around him. He took a seat, resting his sword across his legs, and focused his ahmaean inward.

  It required that he pull energy from all around him, and he unintentionally used the power of the teralin in a way that augmented his abilities.

  He surged through the fibers.

  Not only through the fibers, but beyond them, stepping outside of the fibers, much as he had when facing Raime and sealing him away from the fibers. That had been with the assistance of the Cala maah. Otherwise, Jakob doubted he would have been able to do it. This time, it was only his connection and his power.

  Seeing the fibers in this way gave him an overwhelming sense of the power within them. He felt small. The fibers were massive, a bundle of thousands upon thousands of strands, all woven from the lifelines of individuals living through those strands. When he focused, he had a sense of each individual lifeline, and suspected he could trace along them, and pick out each thread within that strand and know the person.

  Could he do that with Raime?

  It couldn’t be difficult, could it? Standing within the fibers, Raime’s strand would be one of the longest. Jakob should be able to compare it to others and not only glimpse his past but see the possibilities that exist in the future as well.

  Jakob realized he should have considered this before, but he had barely begun to understand the fibers—and his ability to control them.

  There was another strand that could be useful to him.

  Jakob focused, looking for Brohmin first. His would be longer than many others. After a few moments, he thought he’d found it. It was a thicker strand than many, but it had not always been that way. The strand had been thin to begin with, much like most of the strands within the fibers, and then had suddenly thickened before gradually thinning out over time once more. Now the strand had thinned considerably.

  Brohmin’s time was short.

  Did he know? Had he shared that with Salindra?

  Jakob suspected that Brohmin knew, but doubted that he would have shared with Salindra. He trailed along Brohmin’s fiber, looking for how much time he might have left. There were possibilities, but fewer than those he saw for many of the other strands. One of them gave Jakob hope, but it was an unusual finding, and from his perspective standing outside of the fibers, he wasn’t certain what to make of it, or how much of it was real.

  He changed his focus, looking for Raime’s strand.

  It would have to be here, much like Brohmin’s had been.

  If he could find it, was there any way he could simply use the fibers to end Raime?

  He felt an increasing weakness from the ongoing draw on his power required for him to stand where he was, outside of the fibers. He wouldn’t be able to remain here much longer. Even if he could find Raime’s strand, there might not be anything he could do to stop him.

  And that was not the reason he had come.

  Jakob pulled on more of his ahmaean, drawing it inward.

  There was a surge of strength.

  Nemerahl!

  He sent the call out along the fibers, hoping that he could find a way to connect, but questioning whether it would be enough. If the nemerahl were connected to the fibers, and if that was the source of their power, there had to be some way for him to reach one of them.

  There came no answer.

  Nemerahl! You are needed once more. The damahne live.

  Would that make a difference?

  He understood that each damahne had bonded with a nemerahl, and if he could somehow find a way to call them back, he thought he could ask the nemerahl for assistance with reaching the new damahne, and helping them to find—and understand—what they could do.

  There came no answer.

  Why would he have expected there to be? When the nemerahl had departed, he knew that it had not died, but he also knew there were secrets the nemerahl kept from him. Even Shoren likely kept secrets of the nemerahl from him.

  His strength was beginning to fade. He couldn’t remain here much longer. He knew it was time for him to return, rest, and search for the groeliin, and find what they might have done to the others. Though he feared it was already too late to save them.

  That didn’t change what Jakob had to do.

  He needed to stop those powerful groeliin. He would have to do that before anything else. Before finding Raime and hopefully ending the battle between Raime and the Conclave for good.

  There was one thing he would do before leaving, one other he could look in on to see how she was doing. With the power he connected to, it might be the only way for him to check on her.

  He focused, searching for Roelle’s strand.

  When he found it, anger surged through him. He opened his eyes and shifted.

  Chapter Ten

  Jostephon stood at the ed
ge of the Old Forest. He glared at the darkness, looking for a shifting of shadows. There had to be some way for him to escape this place, but so far, he had not found it.

  His neck and arms still burned where the boy had seared his skin with a teralin sword, destroying his Deshmahne markings. Somehow, he had managed to find the secret to removing his enhancements, but Jostephon was determined to see them restored. He had sacrificed so much to acquire all that he had, and no boy was going to take them from him.

  Why hadn’t the Highest warned him about the boy? The Highest would have encountered the boy at least once before and should have been able to slow him, but had he actually been defeated? The idea seemed absurd, but there was no other answer that made any sense. The Highest had lived for centuries, and had acquired strength from countless creatures over the years, so for him to be defeated by one mere boy—however connected he might be to the damahne—was unfathomable.

  The edge of the forest carried ever-deepening shadows. There was something not quite right about this place that Jostephon was determined to understand. Understanding was the key to mastering it. If his time spent leading the Magi had taught him anything, it was that if he first understood a thing, he could master that thing.

  There was movement behind him, and he turned. Arrayed behind him were two of the damned creatures that watched him. They were half-breeds, a mixing of the damahne and mankind. The Highest had not allowed him to take from them—yet. When this was over, Jostephon was determined to take all that he wanted from them. There were hundreds within this forest. How powerful would he be once he acquired all of their ahmaean?

  He might be able to rival the Highest.

  Jostephon pushed those thoughts away. They were dangerous thoughts. The Highest had a connection to the fibers, and with that connection, he had an uncanny ability to anticipate. It would be dangerous for Jostephon to involve himself in that, especially as he had seen others who had dared think they could challenge him. None had the same capability as the Highest. It was what made him what he was.

 

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