GLASS 4.6: ALL BROKEN
“The scholars of the Yenistraph Par have given their verdict. Therefore I decree in accord with their findings: the Unsunned on manoeuvres in Mund are to be recalled. The identity of the target has been challenged. As it stands, all portents display no more than Yane’s satisfaction with our work. We will make the slaves we took last us, awaiting a clearer vision and a new mandate from the Lightless. We are not dead – we will not be moved. It is the first principle of the First Blood: to order the moment; to refuse to act on impulse.”
– from King Asator’s address to the Ysyri, 16,492 VC
Netherhame stood in what appeared to be her bedroom, a rather-large chamber lit by candles, the curtains drawn. She had the demeanour of an angry governess from one of Jaid’s stories – her heavy shoulders were thrust back, and the hand that wasn’t holding aloft the glyphstone was planted on her hip. Her bright-purple robe with its pink swirls was even more dishevelled than my own usually was, and I had to smooth mine out every time I retrieved it from my satchel – perhaps she’d fallen asleep in it. She had her faintly-green, howling-hag mask on her face, and she sounded tired.
“So, Feychilde, I’m led to believe you’ve been dealing with our fanged friends without me. In direct opposition to my orders, I might point out. Dragging some of the other newbies with you.”
I braced myself for the recorded tongue-lashing.
But after a moment’s pause she just snorted, and relaxed her posture.
“Truth is, Timesnatcher warned me you were likely to follow this path; it was his idea for me to say no to you last night. Seems our all-seeing friend wanted to test you and your pals. I’m glad to hear you all made it out alive.”
Only thanks to Leafcloak, I mused. If Spiritwhisper had died, we’d have all had to live with the consequences of our childish haste for the rest of our lives. Rushing in, nearly getting a few of us killed…
We should’ve waited.
But then how many more lives would’ve been lost? How many more innocent Mundians would’ve ended up as undead-fodder, if we hadn’t acted when we did? Even one day’s delay would’ve cost someone their life.
“I want to meet, today. I’m gonna go mop up the rest of the vampires, then I’ve got a proposal for you. Glyph me once you’re up – don’t worry, I know it won’t be early –and we’ll go for something to eat in Hightown. Normal clothes, please.”
I lowered the chunk of crystal once the recording ended and lay back in bed.
“What time is it?” I shouted.
“Just gone one!” Xan yelled back from the main room. I’d awoken at eight, got cleaned-up and then went straight back to bed. Jaid and Jaroan had taken Xastur out to play under Orstrum’s watchful gaze, so the apartment was mercifully quiet.
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
I wasn’t hungry, wasn’t ready to contact Netherhame yet. When I thought of food my mind instantly went to fangs ripping into my scalp, distended jaws snapping at my friends’ faces.
No, I thought with a shudder, definitely not hungry.
Instead I reached beneath my mattress and retrieved the slim sorcery-text I’d had Em borrow from the Maginox’s library a few days ago, to supplant the book I’d liberated from those Bone Ring amateurs right back when I started out.
This one was the real deal. I wasn’t certain it’d been written specifically for arch-sorcerers, but it seemed to skip half the nonsense about practical magic, plunging straight into the theory – which was what I really needed. It contained an excerpt talking about what they’d called ‘weaving’, the interlinking of various shields to solidify and amplify their effects.
It also had a guide on the various runes and their meanings: the self-repair ones looked particularly enticing, given how my robe and mask had been damaged last night. To be fair my mask was only somewhat lopsided, once I’d bent it back into shape with my hands, and only a little less comfortable on my face – but the robe was torn right open, caked in my blood. I was thankful now that Madame Sailor had mentioned a back-up and had suggested fixing my old grey robe. I hadn’t thought there’d be any chance I’d get it wrecked within a few days.
And then at the back of the book there was a whole chapter devoted just to joining with extra-dimensional entities.
I was interested to read that, up until the time of its publication, no arch-sorcerer had joined with more than eight eldritches at once – regardless of the eldritches’ power-levels. So far as the authors and their editors had been aware, at least. The book could’ve been centuries-old for all I knew.
I currently had three eldritches ‘bound to the flesh’, as the book put it. If things went well today I would be pushing my limits a little – I would try one of my undead on for size.
After half an hour of staring at a particularly obtuse passage relating to weaving shields together – no diagrams, more’s the pity – I gave up. I contacted Em, and we chatted while she was on her way to the Maginox for class. Once she arrived and got near the front of the queue for future-checking by the diviner-guards, I got in touch with Netherhame.
I threw my robe and mask on this time, despite their blemishes. I’d be feeling weird if the arch-sorceress wasn’t wearing hers now, but I’d feel even weirder if I exposed myself unmasked first. The whole idea of showing our identities was hers in the first place, so it would only be fair for her to take the lead.
I needn’t have worried. She was in an Oldtown or Hilltown street, wearing her full champion apparel, and Shallowlie was at her side in her black robe and pale, smiling mask.
“Netherhame,” I thought at her, “I’m up.”
“Morning,” she replied blandly.
“Ah, yes,” I said, feeling a bit guilty. “Sorry, and all… I’ve got a couple of errands to run… How did you get on with the vampires?”
“Done. Apparently only one or two are left, holed up too deep for us to find. Future lines look just breezy, so I’m told. So – three o’ clock? You know Foltan’s on Dandelion Way?”
“I’ll find it,” I said.
“South Hightown, the road with the Temple of Compassion and the Tower of Knowledge. You can’t miss it. No masks, yeah?“
If it weren’t for the fact I’d spent the last couple of weeks flying around the city, I was pretty sure I would’ve been able to miss it no problem, but I happened to know where the shrines to Wythyldwyn and Locus were located now.
“Sounds good,” I replied. “See you there.”
* * *