“Three o’clock and all’s clear!”
“Thanks, Lio,” I groan, rubbing my closed eyes with my thumb and middle finger as I sit up from my spot on the couch. I slap my cheek a few times, struggling to wake up, and switch spots with Lionel to let him get some sleep.
We’ve spent the last day and night on high alert, taking turns keeping watch all around the clock. As unlikely as it is that someone will attack the inn overnight, I don’t want to take any chances. Although we’re fairly certain that Saphora doesn’t know where our room is, there’s no sense in leaving ourselves without some prior warning in case she does show up.
“Wish I could see better,” I murmur, squinting against the faint glare of distant mana lamps. I lean against the East-facing window frame in our suite’s common lounge area, peering into the murky depths of a city that never truly sleeps. Most of the people traveling past our inn seem like they’re part of the working class. They probably aren’t related to the Menders, and it’s not likely they pose much of a threat, but it’s hard to tell since I can’t use mana until I’m cleared by Shiphrah.
I can’t be sure if I was followed back to the inn on the way back from visiting the odd [Metaphysical Mender]. My mana stores were utterly depleted, and I was warned against Skill use during recovery, so I couldn’t track people through my Domain.
Between Rakesh’s paper birds and our nightly watch rotation, we should be able to get early warning if anyone approaches. In the meantime, I’m drumming my fingers against the window sill, jumping every time I see someone so much as look up at the inn. That level of paranoia can’t be healthy, I tell myself, trying to relax while simultaneously staying on guard. It’s not working.
Yuuni slithers by on a nearby rooftop. Her constant patrol brings a smile to my lips, but I’m not sure how to teach the little glass sea serpent how to pick out mana signatures. It’s not easy to convey more advanced commands like that, but I’m confident that it can be done once I’m cleared to dive back into using mana again. Avelina seems to think that the little serpent can understand her, and I’m not inclined to argue now that she’s somehow taken the bond away from me—which is another mystery I’m keen to solve.
Currently, my leading theory to successfully empower Yuuni is to create a copy of what I sense in my Domain and then imprint it on the animated glass. Experimenting will need to wait for two days to go by so that I can use mana again, since I’m trying to follow the advice from Mender Shiphrah. For now, I can work out the ideas behind things. My main inspiration is the tracking device for borrowed books at the SCA library.
The only hesitation is that it required a drop of blood to verify the borrower’s mana signature. So did the mana-control test, now that I think of it. I somehow doubt that Saphora will take kindly to me poking her with a hollow needle next time I see her, so I quickly discard the idea that I’ll be able to harvest some blood for this project.
As much as I’d love to make her pay for what she did to Lionel, cutting her is a step too far for me. After Irving, I’m not interested in dispensing rogue justice. Even with Irving, we only cleared the way for him to do what he wanted anyhow. He was chasing glory, and he got exactly what he deserved. No, going after Saphora directly is a line I don’t want to cross. If all goes well, then the [Inquisitors] will handle her, assuming they enter the city in force.
Rakesh is still working on that front. We’ll see what fruit his research yields. Investigating their absence is a delicate process, since we don’t want to tip off the authorities. If anyone can figure out how to crack a tough case with aplomb, it’s Rakesh. I just hope he gets a lead soon. All this waiting around is getting to me.
Despite my worries, no menacing adversary shows up during the night to bother us. We share a quiet breakfast, everyone keeping their own counsel as they eat and prepare for the day to come. Before we part ways to visit our various studios—and the library—I remind the team to bring our valuables with us to work. Just in case.
Everyone readily agrees not to leave our personal effects at the inn, packing up with a practiced efficiency that makes me proud. Soon, only Mikko and I are left behind. He drags his feet, regarding me with a look that’s far too close to pity for my liking. Finally, I demand that he spits out whatever’s weighing on his mind.
“Tired of being cooped up?”
I nod at my brother. “Miserable.”
“Yeah, well, you look it,” he replies, smirking back at me. “Hey, there’s no point in sitting here all alone moping. Why don’t you visit my new workshop?”
“I’m not moping!” I protest.
“Pfft! You’re totally moping, Nuri. Everyone has a job to do except for you right now. You don’t know how to deal with feeling useless.”
I lift my chin and level a haughty look at my brother. “I know how to handle downtime. I’m making plans. Persevering my strength.”
“Nuri, it’s fine to have a bad day. You already admitted you’re miserable,” Mikko points out, his lips lifting slightly. “Come see the workshop. It’s nothing like a smithy back home.”
My instinct is to argue, to push back on the claim that I’m having a bad day, but it’s a lot easier to lie to myself than it is to lie to my brother. With a heavy sigh, I gather up my things and heft my backpack onto my shoulder. “All right. Let’s take a look at the future of metalsmithing.”
“That’s the spirit!” Mikko crows, clapping me on the back and nearly knocking me off my feet.
I roll my shoulders, wincing at Mikko’s unwitting display of overwhelming strength, and follow my brother downstairs, out of the inn, and through a maze of many streets teeming with workers, merchants, off-season sailors, and the occasional family. Half an hour later, we arrive at the warehouse, and my bad mood has completely evaporated. I realize with a start that I’m excited to see what’s inside. Mikko was right, as usual. I needed something to pick me back up and get my mind off my core and channels.
The outside of the studio is strikingly bare. Slate-gray walls of hot-rolled metal sheets rise five storeys high. The monochrome exterior is broken up only by the heavily-reinforced door at the corner of the block. There’s no handle or lock, but Mikko guides us over and places his hand against a chest-high panel.
A pulse of mana is faintly visible in my mundane sight, which is all I can rely on since I’m not wearing my glass pseudo cores. I sent the spare sets with the Linas, just to make sure that I didn’t succumb to temptation and try tinkering with imbuing or [Glass Animation] while waiting for the forty-eight hour injunction against mana-use to pass.
With a click and a soft hiss, the door unlocks and retracts into the wall, sliding to the side to open our path forward. Mikko grabs my arm and drags me inside, interrupting me before I can examine the mechanism in greater detail.
“Take a look next time, when you can use mana again,” Mikko admonishes me. He has the gall to press his lips flat and shake his head at me, as though he knows exactly what I’d try if he didn’t supervise my every move.
I’m a little embarrassed how easily he sees through me. But, hey, what are brothers for?
Everywhere I look around the shop, gleaming iron and manasteel meet my gaze. Even more exotic metals I don’t recognize line the back wall. I gawk despite myself, marveling at the automated processes in the advanced smithy. It feels like an actual glimpse into the future, even though I was only teasing my brother about that earlier. Watching all the odd, multi-articulated machines working together in precise synchronization is mesmerizing.
“They can produce more items than a single ever smith could, even with a ton of Skills running in concert,” Mikko says, gesturing toward the machines.
I force myself to stop staring. The prospect of learning constituent runes in their base enchantments has me drooling, even though I don’t know much about enchanting. Expanding my runic library is always a worthwhile endeavor.
“The boss can show you later. Look, I’ve gotta get to work, but why don’t I introduce you first? Might as well get you two on a first-name basis if you’re going to harass him with endless questions.”
I chuckle weakly, not bold enough to lie and claim that I won’t have questions. The entire workshop fascinates me. Instead, I put on a smile and shake hands with Jabal, the [Automation Foreman] in charge of the workshop.
Since I can’t use mana for forty-eight hours, Mikko doesn’t inform Jabal that I’m a Master craftsman. Everyone loves seeing an imbuing demonstration, even if glass is different from the forging process. Regardless of the different mediums in which we work, Jabal will probably find watching me imbue instructive. I’ll have to reveal that skill another time. Maybe it will be enough to convince him to accelerate the plan to teach Mikko enchantments.
At the very least, I offer Jabal an embossed card with an enchantment that will grant him special access to the Orpheus House’s acquisitions team. Ozana gave me a few to distribute at my discretion, and Mikko’s enthusiasm about the workshop is more than enough endorsement for me to trust the quality of their work. Besides, I suspect the investment may be worthwhile if their innovative manufacturing methods catch on.
Which reminds me. I should share the last of the innovation-infused tea with my team. It might be just what they need to achieve breakthroughs of their own.
Jabal takes the card with a raised eyebrow. When he reads the name engraved on the side, his dark amber eyes light up. “Too generous, young man! I’ll pay you back. I swear.”
“You already have. My brother’s the happiest I’ve ever seen him,” I say, smiling fondly at the big lunk.
“Heartwarming,” the boss chuckles. “Family. Good! I won’t worry about the debt. Thank you.”
“Well, I guess you could tell me more about your fabricators,” I reply, nodding toward the machines made of the odd metal I noticed on the back wall.
Mikko smirks at me as Jabal and I head over to look at the fascinating machines, but I don’t mind my brother’s teasing. He was right; this is exactly the kind of distraction I needed to get back in the right mindset. I can learn and grow for my entire life, regardless of whether or not my core is fixed—or the enemies I make along the way.
=+=
The next morning, I join the Linas at the Orpheus before my appointment. The glass works at the auction house is well stocked but small, with only three workbenches. The twins are the only glassblowers there for the morning shift, so we have free rein to work together and practice our craft. Without using my imbuing, I’m not as valuable to the Orpheus as I would be otherwise, but I still enjoy chatting with the twins.
I help them finish some mundane commissions, but making glass without transforming it through my mana feels less satisfying than I’d hoped. My heart isn’t in my work, and it shows. The pieces are fine. Fine. But not up to my standards, and the Linas notice.
They cut short our work day and join me for my appointment, since they’re each bringing a set of glass cores. We’ll need the extra mana for Shiphrah, but I value my friends’ company even more. I’m not sure that I can handle the roiling emotions of another failure so soon on the heels of the last. Having their presence with me bolsters my confidence.
On the way out, Ozana intercepts us. She hands me a small leather pouch. “Your share for your helm. Bidding was more vigorous than hoped. We look forward to a long partnership.”
“I will try not to disappoint,” I say, bowing slightly as I take the offered money bag. It’s not much yet, due to the various setup and transaction fees, but it’s likely more than I pulled in for all the items I sold at Totten’s auction.
Which is only fair, since Gilead is the most overpriced place I’ve ever seen in my life. I can’t believe that I thought the capital was bad. Living here is one step from daylight robbery!
I keep my thoughts to myself. No point in getting the Linas riled up about how much I’m paying to cover our inn. Melina seems content to work in the studio with her sister, and Avelina is more relaxed than I’ve seen in a while now that she’s using flamework for sculpting instead of killing. Still, I don’t miss the way she clutches Yuuni to her body at all times, or the way her eyes slide toward the corners, searching for ghosts in the shadows. I wish I knew how to help grow flowers of peace in the garden of Avelina.
The cute little sea serpent is wrapped around her arm permanently. Thankfully, it’s hard to distinguish from decorative jewelry, despite its size. I’d hate to see what might happen if some enterprising [Thief] decides it’s valuable and wants to steal it.
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I’d feel bad for Avelina in that case, since she’d probably feel guilty after incinerating the would-be bandit. Burned to a crisp is a bad way to go.
“So, what’s our plan if we run into that witch?” Avelina asks, shimmying as close to me as she can before the resonance between our glass cores gets uncomfortable.
“Act like we don’t know her, unless she forces the issue. We’re trying to crack this case wide open, not just get petty revenge,” I say.
Avelina snickers. “You’ve been spending too much time talking with Rakesh, huh? He thinks he’s an actual [Detective].”
“Oh, leave him alone, Ava,” Melina says. She lets out a soft laugh. “Don’t you think it’s kind of endearing?”
“It was until he noticed that it was,” Avelina says, scowling. “I liked it better when he was nervous about everything and the world was a big, scary place. He was kinda cute! Now he’s all full of himself. He thinks he’s debonair. ”
“Be nice,” Melina chides.
“Pfft, I’m always nice!”
Melina and I diplomatically don’t answer.
Nearly an hour later, we’ve passed the Menders main campus, which elicits the suitable oohs and ahhs from the Linas, and are approaching the creepy research district. I explain the history as best I could, although it probably doesn’t quite click before the twins see it with their own eyes. Now that I know all the noble houses worked in this area for generations, competing to elevate their little slice of magic research, the unsettling architecture and configuration makes more sense.
Idly, I wonder if Scalpel got her start here. She was so augmented by the time I met her that I couldn’t get a good read on her origin. Sure, she was deathly pale, unlike the deep bronze complexions of most citizens native to Gilead, but nothing about her was natural anymore. The dark voids of her eyes and the too-many joints in her weirdly-articulated fingers weren’t the only things unnatural about her. She’d enhanced her body and soul in a myriad of strange ways. I’m not sure I even want to know the full extent of it.
Open gates finally show up ahead of us, and I pick up the pace, anxious to attempt the healing Skill again with more mana at our disposal. “This is it. C’mon!”
“You sure know how to pick ‘em,” Avelina mutters when we pass through the extensive, well-manicured grounds and reach the warehouse. She hesitates at the doorway, gulping at the dimly lit interior, but she follows us inside anyway.
“Don’t worry, Ava. It looks like a murder hole, but you’ll like Shiphrah and Rashad. Truth be told, they kinda remind me of you two. Or maybe me and Mikko.”
“Because they’re related?” Melina asks, amusement in her tone. “Siblings aren’t all that rare, Nuri. From the way you described them, they don’t seem to share much with us in the way of personality or disposition.”
“Oh, fine, be all technical about it.”
Avelina nudges her sister, smirking.
“I do think you’ll like them, though,” I insist. “They’re super nice. And they’ve got a ton of amazing stories about traveling around Densmore. They’ve been on even more adventures than we have, I’ll bet.”
“That’s a bold claim,” Avelina mutters.
“Look at you! World traveler,” I tease.
Our banter dies off when we descend the final set of stairs in the basement. Without the guidance of my Domain, it feels more ominous walking down the long hallway than it did the first time. Even the presence of my friends with me doesn’t quite take away the fright factor.
Laughter bubbles up from the room ahead of us, and I turn to smile at Avelina. “See? It’s not so bad. That sounds like Rashad. I’ll introduce you.”
Thankfully, Saphora is nowhere to be found when we enter the cozy clinic at the end of the hallway. She’s clearly been there, since a plate of cold cuts and crumbs show evidence that Shiphrah has thoroughly enjoyed her peach pastries before we got there.
“Greetings, Nuri! Glad you could join us again. And you’ve brought friends? Brave boy. Very brave boy,” Shiphrah says. She rises from her seat, her knees creaking, and bustles over with her hands outstretched toward the Linas. She warmly clasps each of their hands between hers in turn, smiling as though she’s greeting long-lost bosom companions.
“Lovely to meet you! Oh, how lovely!”
Rashad restrains himself to standing and bowing stiffly before returning to his book. He soon loses himself in the text, chuckling to himself at some private joke and ignoring the rest of us without compunction.
“We brought three pseudo cores,” I announce. “Melina is well-acquainted with keeping them in good working order and assisting with swapping them out as needed. She’ll assist while you’re delving into my core space.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’ve got practice with this,” Rashad says lightly. He looks up from his book for just a split second, but there’s a sharp look in his eyes that makes me think he’s been looking into me.
While the [Inquisitors] said they’d expunge my accusations from the record, there’s still no guarantee that they got everything. Tracking down details on Scalpel would be significantly more difficult, but still not outside of the realm of possibility.
I purposefully keep my expression mild. “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”
Rashard sets down his book. He folds his hands, crossing his legs at the ankles, and leans back in his seat. “Any significant pain? You seem like you’re fine, but I’d like to take a look again, if you don’t mind.”
“Go for it. I do feel pretty good, but I’m anxious to use my Skills again. I’ve avoided mana for forty-eight hours, just like you said. Not my favorite prescription ever.”
Rashad focuses, and a sensation like warm, cleansing rain washes over me. Tiny aches I didn’t even notice fade away, and I bounce on my toes without realizing it at first. My muscles are brimming with energy. They feel strong and elastic in a way I haven’t experienced before. I wonder if this is how Mikko feels all the time. Powerful. Relaxed. Overflowing with potential. Like a lion lounging in the sun, ready to spring into action and chase down its prey.
Concurrently to healing my physical body, Rashad performs his hybrid Sounding-Viewing technique, checking my metaphysical body as well. When he’s done, he frowns, presses on his forehead with his index finger, and looks down at the floor, lost in thought.
“Nuri, don’t overreact, but I’d like you to slowly—key word!—try to harvest ambient mana into your core. Start small, yes? Let’s not cause further problems.”
Bracing myself for the acid-burn of pain in my channels, I gently open myself up to the world and draw in the smallest mote of energy I can. The raw, unrefined energy slips through my permeable membrane far more easily than I’ve felt since before the Lesser Rift in Lamont’s Falls, and for a moment hope soars within my heart. I pull in a little more, and the increased flow of mana is enough to leak through the cracks, making me hiss. Outside of the natural protection my metaphysical channels provide, the mana sizzles on contact with my physical body.
I bite back a whimper of pain, but don’t let go, coaxing the mana to trace the length of my channels and flow into my core. Heeding Rashad’s warning, I keep it slow and steady, not rushing and ruining the small progress we’ve made. Rupturing the channels by overdrawing sounds like the height of stupidity to me.
Harvesting a little more mana lights my world on fire, but I grit my teeth and fill my pool as far as I can. Drop by drop, mana enters my core. It’s agonizingly slow, but I press onward, my excitement growing. Already, the pool exceeds the amount I’ve been able to hold ever since the Rift, even if it’s a tiny fraction of my full Capacity.
Fifteen tense minutes pass in silent concentration as both Rashad and Shiphrah monitor my progress. All the while, Melina takes notes, watching with an expression of awe on her face. I don’t blame her; not many people ever get the chance to see a [Metaphysical Mender] at work. She’ll gloat about this to Rakesh for ages—in her understated way, of course.
“Enough!” Rashad suddenly warns, his voice so stern that I listen instantly. He nods and lets out a little laugh. “Incredible. I don’t want you to suffer any setbacks, but we’ve gotten over the first hurdle. Your core is still responsive. I’m not sure how, but it’s not entirely defunct. There is extensive damage, but Shiphrah is the best in the business at repairing the arcane body.”
Avelina whoops, tossing her arm around my shoulders and shaking me in her excitement at the good news. She shrieks and dances. “You’re finally gonna be a Glass Mage, Nuri!”
“Slow down, slow down!” Shiphrah admonishes, although she’s laughing right along with the Linas. “No one would run on a broken leg after splinting it, yes? The bones need to set first, and healing must run its course. Baby steps, Nuri. Baby steps! We want to avoid any danger of a relapse. Now, lie down and prepare yourself. We have a great deal of work to do.”
I leap into the chair, press the button, and wave at my friends as I recline into position. I grin so hard my cheeks hurt from the strain.
Shiphrah slides her seat next to mine. She settles in with pillows to keep her upright and places her hand on my chest. Preparations complete, she closes her eyes, activates her Skill, and plunges into my soul space to continue the healing process.
This time, I retain full consciousness when shifting into my inner world. I watch her Skill as best as I can, still wary to deploy my Viewing. With the Linas overseeing me, however, I feel far safer. Between Melina’s time bubbles and Avelina’s flames, there aren’t many foes under the Second Threshold who could realistically oppose them if they had to fight for me.
Focus, Nuri, I remind myself. It’s a common refrain for me. I turn my attention to what Shiphrah is doing. The complex runes in her Skill are mesmerizing. So many new and unique combinations light up my vision that I’m momentarily overwhelmed. I don’t know where to start to interpret and catalogue them all, so I settle for getting a sense of the big picture, instead.
Shiphrah’s mana finds my core much more quickly than it did two days ago. Now that she knows the path, it’s trivial for her to connect with me. Between the higher efficiency and the artificial boost to her Capacity with the extra glass pseudo cores, I don’t even need to lend her my mana or assist in the process at all. I simply watch a master at work.
Her mana is aspected in a way I’ve never seen before, able to interact with my core and channels even though they’re not fully physicalized. Just like a beast core takes many years to increase in quality and condense in the real world, my core is only partially in the material realm right now. It’s more dense than it was prior to the First Threshold, but I assume that all progress halted once I sundered it and shredded my channels.
I try to remember the texture and “taste” of her mana, for lack of a better term. Aspects are more than simply signatures. They’re more complex, like adding rare spices to a lamb stew to give it savory heat and flavor. I wish I could share the moment with Ezio, since he’s absolutely obsessed with recreating synthetic aspects.
My core is swaddled in the warm, restorative glow of the healing Skill, and this time the flood of mana never abates. Thanks to the extra preparation, Mender Shiphrah is able to draw as deeply as she needs to stitch together one crack after another. She calls first on her own mana, and then supplements it with the energy contained within the glass cores. She moves a little slower once she swaps over, since she has to naturalize the unaspected mana and convert it to her own unique aspect, but the process never stops completely.
Until it does.
Fear seizes me. The spark of hope burning within me is doused instantly, as though she dumped a bucket of cold water over my head. With a jolt I return to my physical body, my eyes opening to see Mender Shiphrah giving me a concerned look.
“What happened? As far as I could tell, the restoration looked like it was going perfectly,” I say, trying and failing miserably to keep the bitterness out of my voice.”
“It was,” Shiphrah allows. She folds her hands in her lap and bites her lip, buying time as she searches for words. “The problem is that we’re creating an imbalance. I thought that as we restored your core, all the potential floating around in your soul—for lack of a better term—might condense and be better contained. That’s not happening, however.”
Melina taps her notebook, frowning. “What’s the problem if we continue? Isn’t that a sign of strength?”
“Potentially, yes. No pun intended!” Shiphrah lets out a strained laugh. “But there are two issues that we need to address. I’m afraid that even with your cores, which are marvelous, by the way, simply marvelous, I won’t have enough mana to complete the healing. We’d have to try to do it in pieces again, which isn’t ideal. It creates weak points that could break in the future. In fact, I’d almost prefer to undo the work I did last time and try again once we have enough of your glass cores and mana crystals to supplement my Capacity.”
I groan at the thought of rupturing my core again. “I’d rather not, if there’s another way. But what’s the second problem?”
Mender Shiphrah winces. “If I do complete the healing process, which isn’t guaranteed given the vast size of the space we need to enclose, we permanently lock in the expanse of your soul. It’s already been forcibly enlarged, and if we fix things, then it won’t get any smaller.”
“How is that a bad thing?” Avelina interrupts. “Most people would kill to have a bigger soul! More potential means you’re more likely to continue to break through to higher Thresholds, doesn’t it?”
“Well. Yes. But the problem is twofold: potency, as I alluded to last time, and a current lack of Skills to fill up the space. All the potential is diluted. Wasted, really. Wasted! It will take a lifetime to fill up a space that size. And the core will lack exterior pressure, which could lead us right back to a rupture if the current Skills continue to improve. They’re vast and impressive, to hear my brother talk about them, which means that when they rank up, they’re going to exert a massive amount of pressure against your core. Normally, that would be a good thing, but due to the size of your soul—again, for lack of a better term—the potential is too diffuse to keep the pressure balanced.”
“When were you going to mention this possibility?” I ask, proud of how even my voice is in my own ears. There’s no hiding my trembling hand and pounding heart from Rashad, who’s hunching his shoulders and looking guilty, but at least I’m not embarrassing myself.
“Ah. Yes. Well, I didn’t bring it up earlier, because I was so certain that we’d be able to make it work! I thought that the outer limits of your interior world would shrink down as your core healed. It’s like gas turning back into liquid and no longer taking up as much volume. I’ve seen it before quite regularly. My mana is a tempering process of sorts. It heals by pulling the body and soul back together into alignment with their true natures. But with you. Well. I believe that we have already accomplished alignment.”
I nod along as I see where she’s going. “After all I’ve been through, this expanded soul is my true nature. So there’s no change as you heal me.”
“Quite so.”
“What are my options?”
“Nuri, we don’t have to do this right now,” Melina starts, her tone achingly soft. Somehow it hurts even worse to hear the terrible pity in her voice.
I hold up my hand. “No, I want to hear Mender Shiphrah’s recommendations. If this is a fool’s errand, then I’d rather know now instead of dragging things on.”
“Well, erm, we could—”
Rashad clears his throat, interrupting his sister. “As much as I’d love to give you hope, I won’t lie to you. Gain Skills, as many as you can. Rank them up. Come find us again in another decade, if you’re still alive.”
Shiphrah lets out a strangled laugh, wringing her hands. “It’s not hopeless! You could get someone to donate you a few Skills. That would speed up the process.”
“Sister! Don’t be ridiculous,” Rashad snaps, his face going red with anger.
I exchange shocked glances with the Linas, blinking in disbelief at the shocking revelation I’ve just heard. “Wait, wait. You wanna run that by me again? People can donate Skills?”