The Golden Symbol (Kilenya Series Book 6)

by Andrea Pearson

  “Because the situation was fairly decent for the humans, they decided to relent somewhat. The Shiengols hadn’t quite fulfilled their part of the bargain, but they’d done everything they could toward that end, so the humans decided to teach the Shiengols the power and knowledge behind the symbol rather than give it to them. They hoped the Shiengols would then take that knowledge and create their own symbol.

  “Which they did.” Pambri pointed to the design surrounding her eyes that every Shiengol wore.

  Jacob also recognized it as the symbol that lined the edges of the fabric Azuriah added to his armor. He was surprised to see that it wasn’t at all what he’d thought. Yes—it was the trident with the sun. But like before, when he’d inspected it closer on his own armor, it wasn’t the same. This version was more complicated, with intricate lines and curves and edges. It was kind of cool-looking, actually.

  “We call it the Golden Symbol.”

  Jacob raised an eyebrow. The “Golden” Symbol was dark gray, with only specks of gold.

  Pambri laughed at his facial expression. “It’s called ‘golden’ because of the opportunity it presented to us, because of its value. And because of the happiness it has brought to us.” She sighed, staring at herself in the mirror—probably looking at the symbol.

  “If the humans had given the Shiengols the original symbol, we would have become the most powerful creatures anywhere, much stronger than the Lorkon. If you’ll remember, during the time of Onyev, other Lorkon were attacking. It wasn’t just Onyev who was trying to find a way to rid the land of those hideous creatures.”

  She sat again, folding her legs under her. “Unfortunately, after the Shiengols were given this knowledge, they decided to ‘help’ the humans in a war against the Fire Pulsers. They took things a step too far, and because of their selfishness and greed, a human child was killed. The humans banned Shiengols from ever returning.”

  Pambri raised her eyebrows, not looking at Jacob, and he could tell she was annoyed at the idea that a Shiengol wasn’t allowed somewhere. He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Shiengols were so ridiculous sometimes.

  She held up a corner of her robe, showing Jacob the intricate design. “You’ve probably noticed this.”

  Jacob nodded. “It’s on the cloth strips Azuriah added to my armor. I’ve definitely felt the extra power. It’s really awesome.”

  Pambri got to her feet again and paced for a moment. “Yes, it is.” She turned and faced him. “The humans didn’t come up with the symbol themselves. They stole it from the Fire Pulsers. Fire Pulsers can’t control magic. They’re invincible to many kinds, and they employ charms and symbols themselves, but they don’t have their own magic. They love to find it and keep it from others.”

  She paused for a moment, looking out one of the small windows deeply embedded in the stone wall. “The humans, of course, were punished for taking the symbol. For years and years, they were slaves of the Fire Pulsers. But while acting as slaves, they learned other important things.” She looked at Jacob. “They learned enough that they were able to escape and protect themselves from Fire Pulser attacks.”

  Pambri sat again. “The knowledge the humans gave the Shiengols was good, but without the actual symbol, the power isn’t as great.” She got a faraway look in her eyes and didn’t say anything for a moment. “But we are definitely happy to have our own symbol.”

  Jacob looked at his robes, understanding better why the Shiengols put the symbol around their eyes. They’d want to harness every ounce of power the mark gave them.

  He glanced up at Pambri. “Will you teach me all of this?”

  “Of course I will—that is why you’re here. But I do need you to understand how opposed Azuriah is to all this. You’re about to face the most dangerous and deadly thing in your life, and he wants to withhold knowledge from you. He cares for you and doesn’t want you to destroy yourself or other people.”

  “How could I do that?”

  “By using the symbol to take power from an unwilling person.”

  Jacob shook his head. “I would never do something like that.”

  “I know—I can feel your honesty. But Azuriah believes everyone lies, even though he senses your true character. He’s a distrusting person.”

  She smiled, seemingly giving Jacob permission to smile as well, which he did. Neither said anything for several moments. Jacob sensed hesitancy on Pambri’s part, so he didn’t push her to continue.

  And then Azuriah strode into the bathroom. Pambri must have known he was coming.

  “How much have you told the boy?”

  “All of the history behind the symbol. I’m about to teach him how to create it so he can wield its power.”

  Azuriah put a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “He’ll destroy himself.”

  Pambri shook her head. “I’m surprised at you, Azuriah. He is your flesh and blood. I expected you to train him fully.”

  Azuriah thrust his robes away and turned to Jacob. “Do you regret anything I’ve taught you?”

  “Of course not, but—”

  Azuriah turned to his wife. “See? He learned what he needed to manage his abilities.”

  “But if I could be more powerful?” Jacob asked. “If I didn’t need to nearly kill my Minya, every time I did something?” Jacob scowled at Azuriah, doing his best not to come across as an angry teenager. “You should have taught me more.”

  Pambri put her hand on Jacob’s arm. “It’s fine. What’s done is done. I’ll train you, though we scarcely have enough time for you to learn.”

  She got to her feet, then cast a glance at her husband. “If you’d like to assist, I’d welcome your help.”

  Then she strode to the long counter, sat at it, and beckoned Jacob to follow. He did, watching Azuriah from the corner of his eye.

  Azuriah hesitated, staring at Jacob and Pambri. Finally, muttering to himself, he also took a seat at the counter. “If he’s going to learn, I want to be here to make sure you don’t kill him in the process.”

  Pambri rolled her eyes, but didn’t respond. She turned to Jacob. “Have a seat between us.”

  Jacob sat, facing the mirror, then noticed that Azuriah was fidgeting. He pretty much never fidgeted.

  “What now?” Pambri asked.

  “The children arrived before I came up here,” Azuriah said. “They say it’s ‘just in case.’”

  Jacob grinned. “You mean, in case we need help? That’s awesome.”

  Azuriah folded his arms. “No. Just in case you all fail and my children have to save me.”

  Jacob’s mouth popped open. “Save you? They think you actually need saving?” Then he scowled when the implications of what Azuriah had said sank in. “Do they really think we’re going to get slaughtered? Even after everything we’ve done to prove our . . . our determination?”

  Azuriah waved Jacob off. “It doesn’t matter. We’ve got work to do.”

  Jacob took a deep breath, realizing that if he didn’t get over his annoyance, Azuriah would know, and they’d never do anything. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were bright—being around other Shiengols made them that way—but they were nothing in comparison to Azuriah and Pambri’s eyes. Now that the Shiengols were near a mirror, the light bounced all over the place, creating prisms in some cases that sparkled and shone.

  Pambri picked up a brush and grabbed a piece of paper. “I’ll first show you how to draw it on something that can’t possibly get hurt.” She dipped the brush into one of the paint jars. “All the jars have the same thing in them—I like to have plenty on hand. We don’t throw the old jars away, but save them for new batches of paint.”

  She was about to start painting, but obviously remembered something and set her brush down. “The most important thing is learning how to draw it on yourself. Only you can create it—if someone else did, they’d take power from you. They’d borrow your abilities.”

  Jacob nodded, and Azuriah grunted. “This is why I didn’t
want you to learn it. If you ever drew it on a human, it would remove their energy, killing them and granting you extra strength for a time. Obviously, you would be in the wrong, which is why I don’t feel you’re ready for this sort of thing.”

  Jacob stared at the ceiling. Having his uncle peg him as a murderer was annoying and idiotic, but he knew better than to say anything. Pambri cleared her throat, getting both of them to look at her.

  She began describing the symbol as she painted it—hard edges, soft corners. All of them, every angle and edge and corner, were designed specifically to draw power, to contain it, then to release it into the person who painted the symbol.

  “You’ve forgotten something,” Azuriah said, arms folded.

  A flash of red entered the air around her. “What?”

  “The state the paint is in. What it’s made of. All of that.”

  They glared at each other for several moments, and Jacob could practically feel the seconds ticking by. He wished he could crawl out of the room, or at least move, so he wasn’t between them. He stared straight ahead, hardly daring to breathe.

  Then she relented, putting her brush down. “I suppose I do need to teach him those things.”

  “And who’s protecting him now?” Azuriah asked. “You’re ridiculous, Pambri. You’re mad at me for not teaching him something that could possibly harm him, and here you are, not teaching him something that could possibly harm him!”

  She put her hand on Jacob’s arm. “He’s right. The paint has to be melted metal. And it has to be smooth and soft enough to manipulate. We add other things to it to make it more comfortable and to increase its smoothness, but it’s hot, it burns, and it isn’t fun to have on your skin.” She looked at herself in the mirror. “Most Shiengols have scars shaped in the pattern of the symbol around their eyes. It makes it easier for them to paint the mark—they just follow the lines already there. But it represents years of pain.”

  Jacob bit the inside of his cheek. None of this sounded like something he’d do unless he were really, really desperate. Paint himself with hot, liquid metal? Yeah—that didn’t come up high on his bucket list.

  After making sure he fully understood the contents and consistency of the paint, Pambri and Azuriah took turns coaching him on painting the symbol on a piece of paper. They argued, glared at each other, and had multiple power struggles. Azuriah still acted like he was Jacob’s instructor, but because it had been Pambri’s idea, she insisted on leading the instruction.

  They were in that bathroom for three hours.

  By the time Jacob finally went home for a break, his hand was cramped from holding the brush, his head hurt from all the arguing, and all he wanted was a hot shower and then a nap. He shook his fingers, bending and straightening them, but it didn’t help.

  Azuriah wanted Jacob to return in a couple of hours to start learning how to paint the symbol on himself. Jacob was glad for the needed rest—he was hungry, and some time away from the bickering Shiengols would only do him good.

  ***

  Jacob sat down in front of Pambri’s mirror two hours later. His stomach was full, he’d had his shower, and his hand wasn’t hurting as badly. He took a deep breath, then asked the question that had most been on his mind over the past two hours. “How much does it burn?”

  “First, it stings,” Pambri said. “The ingredients that cool the metal without making it go solid don’t react well with skin. But after the stinging goes away . . . yes, it does burn. Enough to make your eyes water.”

  Jacob nodded, clenching his teeth. “I’m ready.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked.

  Azuriah rolled his eyes. “Stop pampering him. You chose to teach him all this—you need to follow through.”

  She ignored him. “Take up your brush. Dip it in the metal. And follow me.”

  Jacob did so, only hesitating for a moment before placing the stuff on his skin. And Pambri was right—it stung. A lot. His eyes started watering and he had to tilt his head to keep the tears from running with the paint. He couldn’t believe he was doing this to himself! But he did his best to swallow the pain and keep going. The faster he learned to do it, the faster the irritation would go away. He hoped. And he was bound and determined to learn it before the Lorkon came.

  The stinging went away. And the burning started.

  If Jacob thought his eyes were watering before, he was wrong. Tears poured down his cheeks and splashed on the counter below him. He couldn’t tell which was stronger—the burning or the resulting itching. His hand shook as he tried to control the urge to scratch and rub the paint off his skin.

  Neither Shiengol acknowledged his discomfort. They simply continued coaching him, helping him correct mistakes. It was hard to paint while looking in the mirror, but Jacob was grateful to learn that Pambri had taught him the symbol backwards so he’d find it easier to paint while looking in the mirror.

  The symbol started taking shape around his eye—above, below, and to the side. The tiny trident and sun were there, visible, as part of the whole design.

  Finally, after scrubbing sections of the paint off when one of the Shiengols complained it wasn’t perfect enough, Jacob mastered the design. It wasn’t too difficult—if it hadn’t been for the pain, he would’ve caught on much earlier.

  Pambri and Azuriah both had to “sign off” on Jacob’s work—naturally, Azuriah was harder to please. He judged and corrected and insulted his way through to a grudging acceptance that Jacob had done fine.

  “Go home. Sleep,” Pambri said. “Come back first thing in the morning. If your symbol is still intact and not fading into your skin, you’ll know you did it well.”

  Jacob was grateful for another break from the two Shiengols. He liked both of them, but separate from each other. They argued like little old women! It made him wonder how long they’d been married. Shouldn’t they have gotten used to their differences by now? Or did couples argue more the longer they were married?

  He quickly forgot his question the moment he stepped out of the fortress. Whoa! The sunlight was bright, making him squint until he adjusted. The emotion colors of everyone surrounding him—even Makalos on the far side of the village—were so much brighter! He couldn’t believe the distance his emotion-seeing ability had now reached. And his shields! Molding the air took only a couple of seconds and he jumped back in shock when the shield sprang from his hands, nearly double in size.

  He was going to have so much fun with this.

  One thing Azuriah had stressed, though, was the fact that Jacob’s Shiengol abilities would be magnified, and nothing more. Since Jacob didn’t know how to fight, he still wouldn’t be a very good fighter. That was a disappointment. But it would be really nice not to have to use Early every time he needed to do something. He’d almost killed her so many times already.

  Jacob saw Akeno’s emotions long before he could even tell who the Makalo coming toward him was.

  “What’s on your mind, Akeno?” he asked when Akeno neared him.

  “A lot. And I’ve been looking for you. I need to tell you an idea I’ve had, and then have you help me decide who to talk to about it first.”

  Jacob put his shield away and turned his full attention to his friend. “Okay.”

  “Can we go somewhere else? Maybe to the graveyard or something?”

  Jacob nodded, then followed as Akeno led the way. Why would the Makalo want to go there? It definitely wasn’t the favorite place to hang out and talk.

  “What’s on your face?” Akeno asked.

  Jacob instinctively reached up to touch the symbol, but dropped his hand, not wanting to smudge it. He didn’t know how long it would take to dry, or if it even could smudge, being metal. “It’s the design the Shiengols draw on themselves.”

  Akeno nodded. “I thought so. What does it do?”

  “Gives me extra powers. Or, actually, strengthens what I already have.”

  Akeno grinned. “That’s awesome.” The smile left his face and he stared a
head, hiking through the forest, his mood sober again.

  “What’s going on, Akeno? Why are you acting like this?”

  The Makalo shrugged. “I’ve got a lot on my mind. And . . . I might just get banned from the Makalo community for suggesting what I’m thinking about.”

  That seemed a bit extreme. “What’s that?”

  “Just a minute—we’re almost there.”

  They’d entered the cemetery, and Akeno led Jacob up the hill to where the Patriarchs were buried. “I wanted to be here, next to Brojan, when I told you my idea.” He took a deep breath and looked up at Jacob, but still didn’t say anything. Then he stared at the mound of earth over Brojan’s grave for several long moments.

  What could possibly be on Akeno’s mind that made him this serious? Jacob’s hands started sweating as he wondered what Akeno would bring up.

  “Okay, I’ll just tell you.” The Makalo took another deep breath. “I need to take my idea to either Onyev or my dad, but . . . I think it might freak them out or make them mad. I can’t risk losing Onyev’s help right now, and I definitely can’t risk having my dad upset. We’ve got too much at stake, with the Lorkon coming in four and a half days.”

  Jacob nodded. “Yeah, no kidding.”

  Akeno gazed at Brojan’s grave again. “I’ve been thinking a lot about Brojan lately. About—about what he did to me. And I think he had the right idea.” Akeno glanced up at Jacob. “I think he was right to put the Kaede Sap into my body.”

  Jacob didn’t say anything—he wasn’t totally shocked, as Akeno probably expected him to be, but this wasn’t his argument, and he didn’t fully understand and feel the implications like a Makalo would.

  “Man, it’s really hard to say this,” Akeno said.

  “Then just spit it out.”

  “All right. I will.” Akeno bit his lip, then blurted, “I want to put Kaede Sap into the blood of all the living Makalos. Right now. Tonight, if possible.”

  Jacob raised his eyebrows. “Are you serious? Wouldn’t that . . . get you—”

  “Kicked out of the village? In a lot of trouble? Yes. It’s been against the law for so long that I don’t know if any living Makalo would be okay with even discussing the idea. And Onyev . . . Onyev was the one who stopped the procedure in the first place. Do you see my dilemma?”