Awakening Arte (The Eldest Throne Book 1)

by Bernie Anés Paz

  The Guardswoman let out a satisfied grunt. “Gonna take a lot of these, but we’re getting there.”

  “How many does ‘a lot of these’ mean?” Roun asked as he watched the gloom retreat and thin even further.

  “A couple hundred, maybe? Then the proper work begins.”

  “There’s more?”

  The Guardswoman chuckled. “Well, knots of night are already thick enough to resist the Throne, and Burrows are worse, so they’re not going anywhere without a whole lot more light. That means hauling orbs back and forth, and since chipping away at a Burrow is slow business, we’ll be at it for days. Now, multiply that by over a hundred pillars, and that’s without thinking about the tunnels!”

  Roun shook his head. He and his father had helped scout both knots and Burrows, but he hadn’t seen them dispersed before.

  “I know it’s anything but glamorous,” the woman continued with a grin. “Most of us hate getting stuck with the job too, but it must be worse for you all, eh? You’re basically doing manual labor and watching children.”

  “None of us see it that way, and I know how important the Guard’s work is, glamorous or not. Besides, I don’t think we should underestimate the chimeras in the Burrow.” Roun frowned. “Still, I did expect something more sinister for our evaluation. I mean, I even know Noban, and harsh or not, he’ll probably—”

  “Judge you honestly,” Zareus said, stepping beside him and spooking Roun. “When Grimoires fail, lives are not just lost, but also wasted. Captain Noban understands this all too well.” He examined the bastion pillar. “This kind of work also serves to teach you that Grimoires do far more than live out myth and legend.”

  Roun dutifully nodded and watched the scribe walk off along the circle to speak with the others.

  “Some things are always the same, eh?” the Guardswoman said with a laugh the moment Zareus moved out of earshot. “Swear my drillmaster was his brother and just as hard.”

  Roun grinned back, then walked over to help the group carry another bastion pillar to a nearby marker plunged into the ground. The pillar was heavy, even after enhancing his strength, but he could at least carry it a short distance. He wasn’t strong enough to force it into the ground alone, though, so they had to dig a hole and anchor it the usual way.

  They worked well into the evening and stopped only because of the approach of what looked like trouble. The warriors on watch, both for chimeras emerging from the Burrow and for anything approaching from the wild, sounded the warning for brigands. The horn’s call came from the north—beyond Roun, who was already working along the Burrow’s northern curve.

  He turned to face the woods in the distance along with the warriors he was working with, because if brigands were attempting a raid, then they would undoubtedly have used it to cover their approach.

  Roun waited, more curious than concerned. None of the true brigand clans operated in the area, so this had to be a stroke of bravado or stupidity if not desperation.

  When Roun spotted the group, however, he realized they were far too small in number to be a threat at all. He cast Farsight out in their direction and found a collection of the simple spirits, each lacking the density and size of even young ascendants like themselves.

  Well, like the others, anyway.

  The warriors with Roun were looking at him as if he should do something, so, after failing to spot either Zareus or Noban, he hurried over towards the warriors challenging the newcomers with lowered halberds.

  The two groups didn’t seem to talk long before the older man at the head of the approaching group pointed at Roun from over the shoulder of the warriors. It was obvious they were waiting for him now, so Roun quickened his pace from a light jog to a sprint until he reached the two groups.

  “Honored One,” the man who had pointed said in a hasty greeting. His bow was just as quick, but still deep enough that it made the whole motion somewhat comical. “I’m Drom, a mercenary in service to Palem Village.”

  “Palem?” one warrior gruffly asked. “Odd, considering it’s clear on the other side of the woods.”

  “Not so far as you think,” a woman in the mercenary’s group snapped. “We’re a small place, yes, but we’re also ranchers, hunters, and the like. Many of us set our beds far out from the village proper.” She swept an arm towards the trees behind them. “And many of us ply the Dwindlewood there, so don’t go fussing us about being where you don’t belong.”

  “Calm down,” Drom told her with a raised hand. “This isn’t the time.”

  “We’ve plenty of time,” the woman spat back. “You’ll get your coin either way, mercenary, but all I expect to be given is a corpse since the Guard isn’t worth much more than the salt in their sweat.”

  “Vess,” a third member of their group hissed.

  Roun glanced between them and passed a hand through his hair. “What happened?”

  Drom took a deep breath. “A chimera snatched Vess’s son while he and his younger brother were playing in the woods.” He glanced at the woman who huffed and crossed her arms. “Palem hired me to find him, though I’m not afraid to say the job is a kindness. Vess joined for peace of mind, the rest are the village’s best trackers and a few of the local woodsmen, all good friends to the lady and missing boy. Father’s out riding to the nearest Guardpost, hoping they’d, well…”

  “Call on a Grimoire,” Roun finished for him, and the mercenary nodded. “Luckily for you, there are already six of us here.”

  The entire group's eyes widened and he saw hope flash across their faces.

  “What did the chimera look like?” he asked.

  The others, including Noban and Zareus, arrived by the time Drom finished recounting the younger brother’s story with Vess’s help. Roun repeated it to everyone after Noban sent some of his warriors to escort the mercenary’s group to their camp.

  The tale ended up being a simple one; the boys had been loafing off while waiting for dawn instead of preparing to begin the day’s chores. When Vess couldn’t find them, she had assumed the boys had gotten caught up in their childish games, and then, knowing they were already due for a scolding, had likely taken to the woods to make certain their play was worth the price.

  Vess had admitted to Roun that no one had thought to be worried until the younger brother sprinted back screaming around mid-morning. Turns out they had been daring each other into the night and back, and when the younger brother panicked and went deeper into the forest, the older went to fetch him. They had gotten lost and tried to wait for dawn, but then the chimera appeared and snatched up the older brother.

  Roun frowned as he glanced over at the dimming Throne; it wouldn’t be long until nightfall. “It has to be a hoard aspirant based on the description they gave me, and they tracked it here, so it must have come from the Burrow.”

  The others gave him confused looks.

  “We, uh, never found an opportunity to tell them about our trips here,” Sethra reminded him.

  He frowned and met Zareus’s gaze.

  “The ability to deal with the unexpected is an important aspect of any mission.” Zareus shrugged. “What that ultimately means is up to you, and as long as things don’t progress beyond what I consider reasonable, I can’t intervene or offer guidance.”

  The six of them nodded their understanding. Laeshiro gestured them closer and glanced pointedly at Roun.

  “Have something to tell us? I seem to recall that your transformed arm looks a lot like that of a hoard aspirant, and we were never told what chimeras were in the Burrow, only their threat ratings and the fact that one could produce wraiths.”

  Roun told them about his visits to the Burrow without hesitation. It was an abbreviated version, and the unsated curiosity in the eyes of the others told him they knew, but none of them interrupted.

  “You owe us the best hour of storytelling we’ve ever had when we get back home,” Laeshiro said after Roun had finished. “Though this explains a lot.”

  “No it
doesn’t,” Oyrivia protested. When everyone looked at her, she flinched. “I mean, did Avyleir really just keep a Burrow around so it could be Roun’s playground?”

  “More like my maze of horrors,” Roun muttered.

  “Right,” Oyrivia said. “Sorry.”

  He waved away her apology. “My father was a mercenary, so I’ve seen more than a few knots and even several Burrows. The local Guard prioritizes the most dangerous ones, then the most inconvenient. This one is kind of out of the way from major roads and, despite what that woman said, Palem Village is pretty far north, if I’m remembering Zareus’s map correctly. Hoard aspirants also don’t stray far from their Burrow and the hoard queen cages herself in with her trove. As long as folk stayed away, this was a problem that could wait, I think.”

  “You and I have been coming here for a while now too,” Sethra added, “so the Burrow should be a bit emptier by now.”

  “Not empty enough, apparently,” Fane said as he looked over at the swirling sea of black.

  An uncomfortable silence followed Kamil’s words; Roun knew what was on everyone’s minds because it was on his as well, but Laeshiro was the first to find the courage to voice it.

  “There’s a good chance the boy is already dead,” Laeshiro said. “I’m not sure we can offer the mother anything more than closure.”

  Noban coughed from a polite distance away. “Pardon my interruption, Honored Ones, but hoard aspirants seek things that others are possessive of. Sometimes it’s as silly as a bit of metal from a bird’s nest or prey from the very jaws of a fox.” He shrugged. “And sometimes it’s an heirloom or tool, or, like in this case, someone’s child. They treat it all the same, though, even if it’s living, which means they won’t eat the boy as long as they see him as treasure.”

  “Chimeras,” Sethra muttered with a shake of her head. “I’ll never understand how they think.”

  “Don’t think I’d want to,” Fane said.

  Oyrivia frowned. “So he could still be alive?”

  “It’s possible, but if he is, then he won’t survive for long,” Noban said. “Coppers still need food and water, so eventually one instinct overrides the other, but that’s hardly the only way he could come to harm. If we’re going to try for the boy, we need to do so soon.”

  “The next step then, I suppose, is asking whether we should attempt a rescue,” Laeshiro said.

  “Why wouldn’t we?” Roun asked.

  “Losing even a single warrior would mean trading the life of someone grown and already dedicated to a purpose for a boy we might not even be able to save,” Kamil said.

  “We’re going to clear the chimeras out sooner or later, and it’s not like we’re kicking an untouched Burrow,” Sethra pointed out.

  “How does that work? Can the hoard queen birth more or something?” Oyrivia asked. “You know, like a regular insect hive?”

  Roun shook his head. “What bestiaries label as ‘queens’ are chimeras that can nudge ascensions around them towards a chimera variant they can enslave.” Roun gestured towards the Burrow. “That’s why they usually come from animals that reproduce quickly, like rodents and insects. Once one turns into a queen, the rest follow bit by bit, but it doesn’t happen all at once.”

  “Then Sethra’s right, isn’t she?” Oyrivia glanced around. “About there being far fewer hoard aspirants inside?”

  “How would you suggest we go about it?” Laeshiro asked Sethra and him.

  Sethra hesitated, but Roun placed a hand on her shoulder as an idea came to him. “Sethra and I found out that my Farsight isn’t as obstructed by night as hers is.”

  “Could you probe the Burrow for the boy?” Noban asked him. “He’ll likely be deep down near or within the hoard. If we could learn whether he’s even alive…”

  Roun shrugged. “The boy’s spirit will be dimmer than anything else in there, so I’m going to still need to put a lot of strength behind Farsight to spot him. Worse, every time I touch a hoard aspirant, it’ll come in search of me.”

  “Hm, maybe I could send in my constructs instead, though it’s possible we might be in for a fight no matter what we do,” Laeshiro said. “Well, our real problem was always going to be the hoard queen. Night will make dealing with it even more difficult, but I'm confident we could still slay it.” He paused for a moment, rubbing his chin. “Is anyone against trying to rescue the boy?”

  Roun and the others shook their heads.

  “Noban?” Laeshiro asked. “What about you and your warriors?”

  Noban nodded. “It’s our purpose and our duty to serve Rozaria’s people and, if need be, even die in their place. None of us would question an attempt to rescue the boy if it turns out he’s alive, and we’re no strangers to fighting in the night.”

  “Then, finally, there’s one last thing we should discuss,” Laeshiro said hesitantly.

  Roun shook his head at him and wasn’t at all surprised to see the others do the same.

  “Really, Rhalgr?” Fane said with a laugh. “You've held the reins this long and now want to ask us if you deserve them?”

  Laeshiro looked uncomfortable, but Roun met his gaze and said, “We all realize that your arte is suited for leadership, Laeshiro. Even if that wasn’t the case, though, I’d still nominate you for command knowing you as well as I do now.”

  “Roun’s right, and I don’t want to lead. Ever.” Sethra prodded Laeshiro with her bō. “I’d also put my life in your hands without question.”

  “As would I,” Fane said. “You’ve never lost your temper with me, and you never gave up on trying to close the gap between us, no matter how many times Oyrivia and I shunned you.” He tossed his head to the others. “They also think very highly of you. That’s enough for me.”

  Kamil shrugged. “We’ve been paired long enough for me to already know you’re the perfect choice for this, Laeshiro.”

  Oyrivia fidgeted as silence dawned. “I suppose I’ve already entrusted my life to all of you,” she whispered. “I know that’s cowardly of me, but I’ve little else to hold on to at the moment, and giving up now would be the same as choosing death. That’s…” She hugged herself even tighter. “Something I can’t bring myself to do.”

  Laeshiro nodded solemnly, and with that simple acknowledgment, became the leader of their coterie.

  28

  Roun stared at the swirling edge of the Burrow while they waited for Laeshiro to finish his attempt at scouting. His awareness of the Eldest Throne told him it would fall to slumber within a couple of hours, but they hoped to use as much daylight as possible.

  Thankfully, the Guardsmen had already planned against the possibility of chimeras leaving the Burrow at night and already had the groundwork for their defenses in place; the Guard planned on leaving the outer bastion pillars illuminated and would add their lanterns to them. The warriors themselves stood in formations around the Burrow, élanic halberds in hand and élanic short swords kept sheathed so as not to waste their glow.

  Noban walked along the perimeter, inspecting equipment and the work on the trenches and palisades that would choke and manipulate the flow of wraiths for a while. Zareus, Drom, and Vess watched from a short distance behind the lines of Guardsmen. They had sent the others back to Palem with word of what was happening.

  Zareus hadn’t spoken a word about any of this, nor did his face betray any personal feelings. To Roun, he appeared the same as always, a man with few expressions and even fewer words outside of his lectures. Zareus was even shirtless and still armed with nothing more than a scalpel despite being far from his workshop. The only thing missing was a careless splotch of ichor across his chest.

  Noban had questioned Roun about the scribe, his curiosity plain, but Roun hadn’t been able to say much. He didn’t even know whether Zareus was pleased about their decision or whether the scribe believed they had all damned themselves.

  Roun wouldn’t waste any energy worrying about it, though, so he turned away from the lines of warriors and back
towards their coterie’s newly appointed leader. From what he understood, it was a coterie’s library that assigned a leader, but in practice, coteries nominated their own leaders.

  Not that I could imagine Exarch Kuro choosing anyone else, Roun thought with a small smile as he glanced at the giant Grimoire, who was scowling from atop strands of amber silk.

  “Nothing!” Laeshiro growled. “The wraiths ignore my spiders, but they’re still vanishing without warning.”

  Laeshiro’s spider-constructs continued adding silk to a complex web while his eyes were closed in concentration. He had built it on the southern side, between the Burrow and the Guard’s camp. It was already something of a fortress, though one far more subtle than Sethra’s hard-edged structures; the space beneath left a gap in the formations surrounding the hill, but that gap contained countless, nearly invisible threads.

  Oyrivia sat cross-legged on a knoll behind Laeshiro’s webbing, longbow beside her in the grass, while Roun, Sethra, and Fane waited at the edge closest to the Burrow.

  “Hoard aspirants,” Roun commented, and Sethra nodded in agreement. “They can hide themselves from Farsight, kind of how like we practiced, but they do it a lot better and I don’t think they need to blind themselves like we did.”

  “Hard to catch them even with your plain senses until they’re on top of you,” Sethra added unhappily.

  “Well, I haven’t been able to spot whatever’s killing my constructs, so I guess that means it must be them.” Laeshiro sighed. “Sorry, Roun.”

  Roun nodded and waited while a spider-construct clambered up to his head and another clambered onto Fane’s back. Laeshiro already had another dozen working on expanding his defensive web, but sending them through the Burrow was apparently difficult for him, both in terms of control and the toll in élan.

  “If things get rough,” Laeshiro’s spider said using his voice, “close the tunnel off and retreat.”

  “I know,” Sethra said from beside Roun. “You’ve only said it a thousand times.”