by Cas Peace
“They cannot discover our involvement, my Queen, and neither can they turn the weapon against us.” She was not the only one who could play games with words. “We do not have their blasphemous ‘gift,’ so it is powerless to affect us.”
This was, of course, not entirely true. They had both heard reports of the damage sustained by the village of Hyecombe. Yet Reen knew Sofira was more concerned about an attack on the mind than she was about houses being blown down.
“But what about the Sullyan woman? What if she can sense who made the thing? Surely that will lead them right back here? If we are ever to be rid of these people, rid Albia of their taint forever, we have to get the weapon back. As much for our safety as our plan.”
She was right. He could feign indifference to the threat Sullyan posed as long as he liked, but the truth was he had no idea what she was truly capable of. Could she discover the mind behind the creation of the artifact? Was there a way she could unravel its construction, find some small clue that would lead her back here? This concern took precedence in his mind, overshadowing Sofira’s unconscious acceptance of responsibility.
“I agree, Madam, and I have already decided how to discover what has become of the weapon. Once we know where it is, we can make plans for its recovery. Our remaining contact in the outlander realm may yet prove useful. First, though, I need a reason to go to the Manor. Do I remember you saying the King intends to visit soon?”
She calmed, and he relaxed. The subtle control he had practiced over her ever since his arrival at her father’s court had worked its charm once more. He blessed the chance that had brought him into her circle.
“Yes. He has some promotions or battle honors or some such to give out. It’s to do with those men who saved that village from the demons. Elias can’t stay away from the place for too long. He still feels obliged to Lord Blaine for helping him take the High Throne, I suspect.”
Hmm, yes, there’s another man who will bear watching. I could do without all these military types with arcane powers getting too close to our King.
Aloud, he said, “That is all to the good, Madam. As you cannot accompany the King in your present condition, you can request my presence at his Majesty’s side when he travels to the Manor. That should give me ample opportunity to ask some questions and listen to gossip. And I have another plan, one which will increase our knowledge of what these people are up to and allow me to devise a way of discrediting them in the King’s eyes. Allow me to refill your glass while I tell you.”
He stood and took up the decanter, his eyes meeting hers. As she held up her glass for more wine, she smiled.
Chapter Eighteen
Rienne and Robin worked with Sullyan for some days, lending her strength and helping her heal the scarring the Staff’s cauterizing power had left. Sullyan was amazed at how fast the void in her soul had refilled with her natural essence—deep, relaxing sleep was the key to that process—but the scarring had affected large portions of her psyche pattern and some of the structure had actually changed due to the trauma it had endured.
During this task, Rienne finally learned the real value of her bond with Sullyan. As an empath, she was unable to initiate contact with Sullyan’s mind. Once linked with Robin, however, she could use his strength and knowledge to bind herself to Sullyan’s psyche, leaving her free to use her healing skills with no further effort. Rienne directed Robin’s, and sometimes Sullyan’s, powerful energies to where they would do most good, suffering no draining of her own essence in the process.
In this manner and under Sullyan’s direction, Rienne was able to remove the majority of the scarring and restore her friend’s psyche to its original condition. She also learned the complex swirls, helixes, and switchbacks of the pattern as well as if it were her own. The day soon came when Rienne found nothing more she could heal.
This was a blessing, for word had arrived at the Manor that King Elias intended to visit. The General summoned Sullyan and Robin to his office to discuss the matter, and he also wanted to hear Sullyan’s thoughts on the next step regarding the Staff.
Blaine indicated the chairs in front of his desk, and both officers sat. He steepled his fingers and regarded them.
“Do I take it you are now fully restored, Major?”
She inclined her head. “I cannot pretend all is as it was before”—she glanced down at her left hand—“but all is as well as it can be. I am fit to resume my duties.”
He nodded. “Very well. As you know, his Majesty has scheduled a visit. He was impressed by what he heard concerning the siege of Hyecombe and may well decide to issue battle honors. However, there is another reason behind Elias’s visit. Pharikian has initiated talks with Elias in the hope of cementing better relations between our two realms. It is Elias’s wish that we host the first of these talks here at the Manor, and so the Hierarch of Andaryon and his retinue will visit at the same time as the King.”
He fixed his eyes on Robin’s, causing the young Captain to frown. “The Hierarch has informed Elias in great detail of the parts both you and Sullyan played in thwarting Rykan’s attempt on the throne, and also of his suspicions concerning Rykan’s intentions for Albia had he succeeded. Pharikian has apparently praised you both very highly, and the King wishes to reward you.”
Robin’s eyes grew wide. He opened his mouth to speak, but Blaine wasn’t finished.
“I must also tell you that the Hierarch has informed King Elias that your powers are now sufficient to support Master status. The King has expressed a desire to be present when your confirmation ceremony takes place. Therefore, we will conduct it sometime during this visit.”
Robin flushed. He didn’t quite know what to say. Sullyan sat grinning beside him, clearly delighted with the news.
“General … sir … I am flattered,” Robin managed. “This is a huge honor—”
“Quite right, Captain, and I trust you will not let me or Sullyan down.”
Sullyan reached out and laid her hand on Robin’s arm, pride shining in her eyes. “He will not, Mathias.”
Nodding, Blaine took a breath.
“Now, Captain, we have another matter to discuss. Captain Parren’s behavior during the siege of Hyecombe. I’ve had Captain Baily’s and Sergeant Dexter’s reports, and I can tell you that if you wish to pursue the matter, we have enough evidence for a disciplinary hearing, maybe even a martial court. With the King already scheduled to visit, this would be an opportune time. What are your feelings?”
Robin didn’t have any feelings one way or the other. He now had far too much on his mind to worry about a waste of food such as Parren.
“I just want to forget about it, General. There’s too much bad blood already between us, and I have no interest in bringing a charge against Parren. I’ll leave the matter of his conduct to Colonel Vassa, if it’s alright with you.”
The General raised his brows, but clearly understood the young man’s reluctance to deal with Parren’s spite. “This is your last chance, Captain. If you don’t pursue the matter now, it will be considered closed.” Robin made a gesture of rejection and stayed silent. Blaine nodded curtly. “Very well. I’ll pass your comments to Vassa and leave the matter to him.” Dismissing the issue, he included Sullyan in his regard. “You have three days to prepare for this state visit, and I will expect your company to participate in a display in the main arena. Let’s show Elias and Pharikian exactly what we can do!”
They smiled. The General’s expression turned serious and he cocked his head at Sullyan. “One last issue, Major. What is to be done with the Staff?”
She glanced down at her hands, choosing her words. “Now that I have recovered my health, we should delay no longer in undertaking its destruction. I will contain the weapon within a substrate tunnel and cause it to self-destruct.”
He nodded. “And will you need help, as before?”
“I will need to focus all my attention and energy on the Staff. There will be none to spare for maintaining a Veil construct.
”
Robin spoke up. “Why does it have to be you, Sullyan? Wouldn’t it make more sense for Pharikian to destroy it? He is a Senior Master, after all.”
She gave him a smile. “Yes, Robin, but he is also the ruler of Andaryon. There is danger involved in working with the Staff, we already know that. We cannot take the risk that something will go wrong. I did not go through all that pain to rid Andaryon of Rykan’s threat just to endanger the throne once more! Much as I would like to hand the responsibility to someone else, I fear I have no choice.”
He hung his head, ashamed he had mentioned it. She briefly clasped his hand, acknowledging his concern. Blaine cleared his throat.
“When, Major?”
She raised her eyes. “As soon as we may. Certainly before the King arrives. Every day that weapon remains in existence is one day too long for me. Surely its maker is searching for it? I expect Pharikian could be persuaded to arrive a day early.” The General inclined his head. “Shall I contact him and make the arrangements?”
“Very well, Major. I will leave it to you. We will be at your disposal as before.”
+ + + + +
In the pre-dawn light of the day before King Elias was due to arrive at the Manor, a small party of Albians waited in the open countryside below the ridgeline. Of Sullyan’s friends, only Cal was absent.
Sullyan stepped forward and bespoke the Hierarch, receiving his permission to proceed. General Blaine and Robin accepted Pharikian’s contact, and Sullyan, Bull, Taran, and Rienne stood watching while they created a trans-Veil structure between the two realms. Sullyan knew they all felt that same odd shift of time, the feeling they had done this before.
When all was in place, she stood at the Albian mouth of the tunnel and watched as Pharikian strode into its center. Reaching the place of neutrality, he stooped and placed the artifact he carried gently on the ground. He straightened and caught her gaze, the intensity of his stare conveying his love and trust. There were no words this time—they had already been said. The only uncertainty was how the Staff’s destruction would affect its surroundings.
As soon as the Hierarch returned to his position beside Deshan and all the watchers were protected under shields of Earth, Sullyan entered the structure. When she reached the structure’s center, she bent down and picked up the Staff.
There was no flickering blue-green light. In fact, the Staff did not react at all. It contained very little in the way of energy because Sullyan had already drained it. It was now simply an empty repository for metaforce.
Not knowing how long the process might take, Sullyan sat upon the ground. She laid the Staff in her lap and briefly checked that Robin, Pharikian, and Blaine were ready. Then she cast her metasenses into the artifact. She had thought long and hard about the best way to do this. The Staff’s construction meant it would be almost impossible to break or damage by physical means, so the only sure way was to overload it, causing it to shatter from the inside from a surfeit of metaphysical forces. The heaviest and strongest element was Earth, and so Sullyan intended to draw on that power, pouring it into the Staff until she breached its capacity and it burst.
The advantage of this plan was that Earth was an abundant force. She could summon it from the ground almost indefinitely. The only restriction was her own limitations. As Master-elite, her control over Earth went back many years, and she was confident she would never lose her hold on the element, no matter how the Staff behaved. The only question in her mind was whether the materials present in the Staff would exert an influence over the forces that filled it. This influence, coupled with the risks involved in detonating that much power inside a substrate tunnel, was the only unknown Sullyan faced. She also had to defend herself against the detonation itself.
Reaching into her restored psyche, Sullyan surrounded herself in her pattern’s familiar folds. She experienced the same glowing feeling she always did when immersed in her own metaforce. Amber and puissant, it flowed around her, buoying her soul. She smiled, at one with her own existence. A tendril of power flowed out, connecting her to the ground beneath her. Immediately, she felt the thrum of Earth—the solidity of bedrock, the rhythm of molten lava deep, deep underground. Images flashed through her mind of great, volcanic upheavals, long periods of static inactivity, the sudden heat of a steam vent forming, and the tiny rustling sounds of roots through soil. This was Earth, this was the Power that shaped the World, and it was hers to command.
Unbidden, the memory of Taran’s reaction when he first experienced the level of power she controlled crept into her mind. She clearly recalled her own amazement at such dizzying feelings of supremacy. It was the glory and the danger of the Artesan gift, and it made the development of self-control so vital.
Having permitted herself that brief, savoring moment, Sullyan turned her attention to channeling the Earth power into the Staff. She envisioned it as a deep receptacle, one that could soak up immeasurable amounts of force. As the power levels rose, the familiar blue-green light began to flicker over the ceramic casing and the artifact grew warm in her hands.
+ + + + +
The Hierarch kept a close eye on what was occurring inside the construct. He felt Sullyan increase her pull on the element of Earth and saw with satisfaction how the Staff greedily accepted wave after wave of power. The light was increasing, causing the entire tunnel to glow, and he gestured for Deshan to step farther away. Blaine and Robin did the same for the onlookers at the Albian end.
As the minutes paced on, the thrum of Earth power grew stronger until it could be felt in both realms. The tunnel was beginning to resonate with the rising beat of Earth, and he wasn’t sure how this would affect its stability. Little coruscations of light flickered along its length, a sure sign of outward pressure, and he increased his grip, forcing it back under control. He had already anchored it deep into the rocks beneath the Citadel Plains, but he checked those ties again, shoring them up against any sudden pull. Satisfied, he turned back to Sullyan.
+ + + + +
The flow of Earth power moved faster and faster as it disappeared into the maw of the Staff. Sullyan was surprised at the amount the device had taken, was still taking. Like an infinite void, the small artifact drew in and swallowed every vestige of power she could raise. This was way beyond her experience, and she felt an almost envious awe of whoever had fashioned such a potent, voracious thing. What must their capacity be like if they were capable of envisioning such a device, let alone creating it? What control must they have to be able to manipulate such forces and shape them into such a delicate-looking object?
She wondered what that person’s mind would feel like. It could not be like hers, for she could never imagine a need or desire that would lead her to conceive such a weapon. Surely the Staff’s creator must be a monster, someone flawed, truly a renegade Artesan? Surely no sane person would be capable of bringing into existence such a terrible thing?
And still it sucked up power. Sullyan was beginning to tire. How much longer could this feeding go on? She was aware of the tunnel’s trembling, the deep shudders that rumbled through the ground. She trusted Pharikian, Blaine, and Robin to hold the structure firm, but spared a moment of concern for the wider effects of her work. How far would these tremors reach? She could not bear to think she might damage the Manor.
This worry gave her strength, and she made a strenuous effort to limit the field of her power stream. Obedient if sluggish, the Earth power responded, but its narrower stream rushed faster than ever into the Staff’s eager maw. Now she could see some effect. The weapon grew hotter, and its light began to blaze. This was closer to how it had felt when she had used it last time. Finally, she was reaching its limit.
The light flaring from the Staff was becoming too bright for her eyes. Taking it into her left hand, she held it away from her, shielding her sight. But the dazzling nimbus suddenly pulsed out from the weapon, blossoming to fill the entire length of the tunnel. She was caught in a space made of blinding white light.
She struggled, straining to cut herself free from the element of Earth. But the force had subtly changed and she was no longer in control. Somewhere along the way the Staff had taken over and locked Sullyan’s personal forces into the stream. Now she was irretrievably linked, and nothing she did could break her free.
Her body gave a great judder and she realized she was floating. There was nothing beneath her and nothing above. A scream of sheer terror forced its way out of her throat, but there was nothing to hear. She was pure Earth power, primal element, and there was no destination but the Staff. Whiteness engulfed her, both inside and out, and her awareness bled into it until nothing was left.
+ + + + +
Rienne, watching from the circle of Taran’s comforting arms, saw the Staff flare brightly. She saw Sullyan hold it to one side, trying to shield her eyes. She watched, alarmed, as the tunnel turned opaque, cutting Sullyan off from their sight. She shivered. How she wished it were Cal here with her giving her comfort, but he was still recovering in their rooms at the Manor. She glanced up at Taran, but his attention was fixed upon Robin standing next to General Blaine. She felt Taran stiffen and followed the line of his gaze. The General and Robin had shifted slightly, the angle of their bodies suggesting great strain. Rienne’s heart began to thump, and only then did she realize she could no longer feel the thrum of Earth power. What was going on?
“Watch out!”
The roar came from the General, and Rienne gasped as Taran spun her around and forced her to run. She had no time to protest or look back at what was causing the ominous creaking that grew shriller with every stride she took.