The King's Craft (The Petralist Book 6)

by Frank Morin

  Connor shuddered. He didn’t know anyone stronger than Evander. The queen might be freakishly powerful, but was she actually stronger? He wasn’t sure. Evander had thrown a mountain. He doubted she’d added that feat to her resume.

  Air arrived then, settling out of the gray sky as gracefully as a swallow. Her dress billowed around her, hair flowing like the sighing of afternoon breezes, and she grinned at Connor like a delighted child. Her voice was like the rushing of winds through evergreens. “Connor, I am so happy you made it. Finally we have someone to play with who can see past their own petty needs.”

  She settled to the ground near Earth and strutted past, tracing one hand along his broad shoulders. He turned to watch, and she winked and blew a kiss. She noticed Connor watching and laughed again, the sounds moving around him like dust devils. “Earth and I love to flirt, but he’ll never fly like you and I.”

  Earth grunted, his expression a little wistful. “And you’ll never grow roots or make anything permanent.”

  She shrugged and blew him another kiss. “You make things, I wear them down. That’s the price you pay when you reach for the skies, muddy britches.”

  Water rolled her eyes. “Don’t mix me in. You two are incorrigible.”

  Connor was so fascinated by their interchange that he’d almost forgotten about his ascension. His pains had faded as he focused on the elemental beings and the incredible insights he was gaining into their nature. He said, “What about you and Fire?”

  Fire chuckled, his expression turning hungry. “Yeah, what about us?”

  Water tilted her nose up just a little but couldn’t help smiling. “You love what you can’t have.”

  Fire laughed. “Exactly why we’re so thrilled to have you with us, Connor. We’ve rarely succeeded in manifesting so openly to any little human. We don’t understand what you are, but we need to.”

  Water nodded, her expression serious. “You’ve managed to touch us with a finger, to draw upon our powers, but not quite step into our world. The Builder girl, Verena, represents a potential avenue of contact, so similar to Kirstin.”

  “That girl had potential,” Fire agreed enthusiastically, his eyes flashing in a way that reminded Connor too much of General Aonghus. It was weird that feeling nervous around Fire actually helped reassure him that he wasn’t hallucinating.

  “And the boy offers perhaps another bridge, but you Connor are here,” Water added with a warm smile that filled Connor with joy. “The mystery of who you are and to what extent we can connect with you is a mystery we cannot settle without your help.”

  Connor grinned. “I’m happy to help. I need to understand you too. I’ve sensed there had to be more to our connection, and when Verena said she spoke with you, I hoped we could find a way to talk. I need help to stop the queen.”

  Fire snorted, and flames burst from his nostrils. Water said, “She represents a great mystery and a great disappointment. Somehow she bridged the gap from humanity to the sylfaen where we have remained imprisoned since our birth, but she rejected us and refuses our counsel.”

  Air twirled, and her dress continued to whirl around her after she stopped, a mini tornado that she did not seem to notice. “We had such high hopes for her, but she refuses to see us as anything but slaves waiting at her beck and call.”

  Earth added, “She breaks when she could create, she thinks she has reached the pinnacle of power, but she is a babe in the real world.”

  That was encouraging. Babes could be destroyed, and if the elementals could help Connor understand how to see the dread queen as a babe, he would gladly help them understand his people in return.

  “You mentioned sylfaen. What is that?” he asked.

  “Sylfaen are the great powers encircling the world. You touch upon a miniscule fraction of the sylfaen as it is filtered through your affinities,” Water said.

  “You’re talking about the red and green frequency powers, right?” he asked eagerly. He sensed they knew so much more than even Kilian or Evander had ever understood. Finally, he could get some answers.

  Earth said, “The filtered powers that you so quaintly refer to as red and green are distilled effects of the sylfaen.”

  “Are there other frequencies? How do we access them? You said you’re separate from the sylfaen, but we access your power through affinities too. How does that work?” Connor asked, trying to give voice to the thousand questions their words triggered in his mind.

  Fire laughed heartily, blue flames puffing from his mouth. “Your new bridges are barely set and you wish to leap into the void already?”

  “At least he is curious,” Water responded, her voice a gentle rebuke. Fire shrugged, and Water added, “You cannot understand everything at once. You have now crossed to a place where we can communicate, but the final crossing to step into our realm still lies ahead, and is fraught with much danger. We will guide you and prepare you for that final crossing.”

  “Another threshold?” Connor asked, amazed. No one ever spoke of a fourth threshold.

  “If you wish. Let us understand you better, and we will find the best way to teach the path to you,” she assured him.

  He wanted to know so many things, but forced himself to refrain. He was speaking with them. That was such a huge step forward, more than he’d even considered possible until recently. “What about sound? I don’t see sound as a person?”

  Air huffed. “She is not one of us. At least not yet. She has existed as part of the sylfaen, but did not rise when we did.”

  “I don’t understand,” Connor said, frowning.

  Fire interjected. “These are things that you are not yet ready to understand.” He gave Air a look that seemed like a warning. Connor wondered what she’d started to say, and why Fire didn’t want him to understand.

  Earth said, “For today it is sufficient for you to understand that when Dreokt started making bridges, Sound began to find herself. She hasn’t completed the journey, and we’re not sure if she ever will. It is a different route than we traveled, but maybe with your help she’ll become self-aware enough to join us.”

  Fire snorted again, and Air didn’t look pleased by the idea. Water’s expression remained neutral and she said, “Those bridges are the key to our discussion, for they offer a link from us back to you. Just like the people of Queen Dreokt were limited by the fact that they could not directly tap the sylfaen without some kind of filter, you cannot walk among the elements without similar filters. The bridges of your affinities can access sound. Your bridges also link to us. Thus it may be possible once you complete your journey that your bridges might offer a roundabout path for Sound to arise and join us.”

  “I don’t understand the bridges you speak of,” Connor said, feeling like he was missing important information.

  “Understanding flows as one walks the path through the dawn of new growth,” Earth said, sounding so much like Evander that Connor smiled. It seemed appropriate for Earth to make less sense than anyone else.

  If he was understanding correctly, it sounded like maybe Sound could figure out how to manifest in full form like the other elements. That would be amazing, although he wondered if she’d be incessantly chatty like Hamish’s sisters.

  Water took Connor’s hand. “There is much that you need to learn, but we can only manifest to you using forms of things you can understand. Human minds break far too easily.”

  Air floated over to him and took his other hand. She gave him a reassuring smile. “But we need to show you some things. Are you ready?”

  “Definitely ready to learn. Not really eager to break my mind, though.”

  Water smiled. “We will attempt the first, and try to avoid the second.”

  59

  Welcome to the New World

  Air laughed and kissed Connor’s cheek. At the touch, a violent gust of wind caught him and would have thrown him head over heels if the two elemental women had not been holding him steady. When he recovered, blinking his eyes from the sudden gu
st, the gray expanse had shifted into a familiar sight. He now stood with the elementals above Alasdair valley as it had existed before getting destroyed.

  The town lay in the distance, but they stood above the two ancient flooded quarries, Loch Sholto and Loch Ladhar. Strangely, the waters of Loch Sholto glowed brilliant crimson, while Loch Ladhar had turned a deep, emerald green. The surfaces of the lochs were rippling. With a start Connor realized those ripples matched the frequencies of the two energy sources that fueled affinity stones.

  As he peered closer, he noticed shapes in the water that slowly clarified into the ancient symbols of the various affinities. The red pool of Loch Sholto contained most of them. He easily recognized granite, basalt, sandstone, and limestone. He spotted one tiny piece that he thought might be obsidian, but the symbol was incomplete. When he glanced in the green pool, he saw the rest of it. In the green pool he also noticed most of pumice and porphyry.

  Intrigued, Connor willed himself closer. He’d experienced enough weird dream visions that he understood he couldn’t physically walk, but as he focused on moving, it just sort of happened. It was a lot of fun, actually. Well, as long as he didn’t think about the fact that he was stuck in a living dream with imaginary beings that had started talking to him like real people who claimed they could share the secrets of deep magic with him.

  He realized the pools were showing how the different affinities connected with the two energy sources. Most of the primary and secondary affinities were fueled from the red power source. However, when he studied the green pool, he noticed those same symbols, but reversed, as if they were reflections seen in a mirror. Somehow he sensed those must be the higher-level aspects of those affinities, accessible by ascended Petralists.

  Sandstone was clearly a red-energy affinity, but sandstorm was green. Limestone might be red, but mirage, death beam, and sensory deprivation were green. The two elemental ladies hovered in the air beside him, watching him closely. He sensed great excitement from Air, and a more restrained eagerness from Water. He wondered if she feared they were pushing him too far. He didn’t want to break his mind, but he didn’t feel strained to the limits. In fact, he was deeply fascinated by the vision they were sharing.

  He willed himself even closer until he could dip hands into the lochs. Somehow in that mindscape, he could touch both at the same time. As he touched a finger to each pool, the affinities there snapped into focus. He smiled at the wonder of it.

  Glancing up at his companions he said, “We sensed a lot of this. It’s nice to know we got so much right.”

  Water gave him an encouraging smile. “You are like a child taking your first faltering steps. They are perhaps the most important, but pale against what awaits.”

  Air rolled onto her back, reclining in the air like she was lounging in a hammock. “But like most children you think your living room is the extent of the world.”

  She blew him a kiss, and it struck him in the face like a whirlwind. His vision blurred and for a second he saw additional pools of water surrounding and even somehow squeezing in between the red and green pools. He caught glimpses of orange, yellow, and blue, but sensed nothing else about them before the vision disappeared.

  “What was that?” he exclaimed.

  Air only laughed, and Water said, “Hopefully a future lesson. Like I said, if we fill your mind with too much truth it’ll snap and we’ll lose the one champion we have finally led this far.”

  Connor wanted to ask a thousand questions, but Fire appeared in front of him, standing with one leg in each pool. Red and green energy flowed up his legs and mingled in his jacket and across his skin.

  “What you need to know today is that we are not defined by either frequency of the sylfaen. You reach us through your filtered connection, and we choose to walk with you, but you need to get to know us as distinct in a way that no one else has, or you will never reach your potential.”

  “How do I do that?” Connor asked.

  “Come visit us often, and we will continue to teach and mold you,” Water said.

  Air flipped over and plunged behind Connor, grabbing his legs, and yanking him down so one foot sank into each pool. The familiar frequencies of the red and green power sources rippled up through him and mingled across his skin like it did across the elementals.

  With a start he realized the two frequencies were not canceling each other out. They both flowed over and through him, like different waves pulsing to different tunes. They no longer crashed into each other, but slid past as if they were running in different invisible conduits through the same space.

  Air said, “First lesson. You have crossed a vital bridge that allows you to draw upon either fraction of the sylfaen, or both, without the interference you struggled with in the past. With this new connection in place, you can begin learning how the world works.”

  “Don’t let us down, dear Connor,” Water said. She took Connor’s face in her hands that were now as cool as river stones and kissed his forehead. An invisible wave crashed through his mind, snapping him out of that strange vision world where they had been speaking.

  He blinked open his eyes, and groaned as every muscle protested, clamoring for his attention, as if frustrated that he hadn’t noticed how much he was hurting. He was lying on his back on the stone slab at the top of Badurach Pass, staring into the clear blue sky. For a second he glimpsed Air hovering above him, twirling like a dancer before she faded from view.

  The experience felt like an extremely vivid dream. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. But first he needed to understand why his chest was hurting so badly.

  He tried to rise, but Kilian, who was kneeling by his head, pressed his shoulders back down and ordered tersely, “Don’t move.”

  His surroundings came into focus and Connor noticed the entire team kneeling around him, looking worried. Aifric had both of her hands pressed to his chest, her face set in a mask of absolute concentration.

  That was not a reassuring sight.

  Hamish was standing over him, leaning forward with one hand clasped around the hilt of the sculpted serpentinite dagger. The point had been driven into Connor’s chest.

  Definitely not good.

  Connor looked up at Hamish and blinked in confusion. “You stabbed me?”

  His voice was weak, and trying to speak triggered a wave of pain through his entire torso that left him breathless. What was happening? He was totally exhausted from the brutal ascension, his mind whirling from the vision with the elementals. He simply couldn’t comprehend why his best friend had chosen to stab him. Had he attacked Hamish while in that trance, insulted Schwinkendorf’s memory or something?

  Aifric cried, “Now!”

  Hamish yanked the dagger free.

  Connor gasped, but wasn’t wracked by as much pain as he should have. Getting stabbed in the center of the chest was supposed to be fatal, or at least make for a really bad day. He felt extremely sore, and his chest definitely hurt, but he didn’t feel like he was dying. That was either a good sign or very very bad sign. The dagger in Hamish’s hand looked much smaller, barely a thin sliver of stone. Even as Connor watched, it crumbled to dust.

  Hamish stared down at him, looking more frightened than Connor had seen since the terrible day Jean was injured. “What were you thinking, Connor? I didn’t stab you. You stabbed yourself.”

  “What?” Shouldn’t he remember such poor knife handling? Usually he had a much better sense of self-preservation.

  Connor glanced from Hamish to Mistress Four and added, “If he didn’t stab me, and I don’t remember stabbing me, did the Mhortair sculptor who crafted that dagger somehow imbue it with a sense of purpose?”

  She seemed to like that mental image. Her mouth twitched into a half smile. “I have no idea, but it would be tragic for any Mhortair blade to reach the end of its useful life without tasting any blood.”

  Hamish said, “Almost as bad as a fresh-baked sweetbread falling off a tray and getting stomped flat before anyone
can eat it.”

  “So will I be okay?” Connor asked, feeling annoyed that they were joking while he might be dying. It seemed disrespectful.

  Aifric leaned back, blew out a breath, and gave him a weary smile. “You’ll live.” Her expression turned exasperated and she added, “I’m glad you retained the sense of mind to tap sandstone. Without your help, things might not have gone well.”

  Connor didn’t remember tapping sandstone either. Wow, he was having a really bad day.

  So he said, “Thanks for helping. I was kind of out of my mind there for a while.”

  Mistress Four leaned closer. “We’re assuming it worked. The entire mountain shuddered. Even though we still can’t tap serpentinite, we all clearly heard a giant bell.”

  Hamish chuckled, clearly relieved. “Like a huge gong. We figured you either finished the ascension, or your mind just snapped in the most epic way anyone’s ever imagined.”

  Connor groaned. He still felt terribly weak and sore all over. He tapped sandstone. The affinity came instantly, and he could feel both the green and red power sources flowing through the stone now. They did not interfere, but seemed to reinforce each other in a way that magnified the power available to him and supercharged it.

  Vast amounts of healing flowed through sandstone now, even more than when he was using one of his aunt’s amazing sculpted pendants. He pushed healing energy through his body, and it washed away the pains. He flickered his healer senses across his chest, and everything seemed fine. Aifric had done an amazing job.

  Aifric leaned forward, her eyes widening. “Connor, how are you tapping so much healing without your sculpted pendant? I can feel it without even having to touch you.”

  “I’m not sure. I think it’s a result of the ascension.”

  Hamish lifted a fist in victory. “Excellent! You’re triple-ascended, Connor! We need a huge celebration feast.”