The Canard Case (The Artifactor Series Book 4)

by Honor Raconteur

  The god complied with a shrug, Master adding in the other fifteen percent. Sevana took back her box lens to take a look. This time it looked stronger, more stable, less like glass and more opaque like a barrier should. “It looks much better. I hesitate to say this, but I think it’s still not quite right.”

  Master borrowed the lens to take a look for himself. “You’re correct, not quite right. Very close, though. I think if we did a ratio of eighty-six and fourteen, we’d be right on the money.”

  That ratio sounded familiar to her for some reason. When it clicked where she knew it from, Sevana snorted. “What are we making here, magical pykrete?”

  Cheng-Huang sat up a little, interest perking. “What is that?”

  “Pykrete is a strange building substance that humans invented,” Master explained, still staring at the barrier through the lens. “It’s eighty-six percent wood pulp and fourteen percent frozen water. Strangely tough when solidified. Of course, you can’t use it outside of a cold country, but it’s so thick and impenetrable that an arrow can barely scratch it. I knew one fool that actually built a boat out of it. It lasted him through a good section of the winter months, as long as he took short trips in it.”

  “It’s great for buildings, though, and walls,” Sevana opined. “As long as you don’t have a source for heat anywhere nearby, it lasts a long time. The ratio you two are proposing is what reminded me of it.”

  “I think that’s exactly the ratio we need to use, too.” Master finally set the box lens aside and handed the peach to Sevana. “Try hitting it again.”

  She promptly did so. Destruction was fun sometimes and she had quite a few frustrations to burn off. It felt inherently satisfying, swinging at it. This time the wrench did not destroy the barrier in one go, and in fact, it barely created a hairline fracture in it. Not dismayed by this, she grinned and hit it again, harder. The crack grew a little more pronounced, but it held firm. “I don’t think a wrench is going to break this.”

  “I don’t think it will either. And I think an adjustment to our ratio will prevent even that small crack from forming.” Master sat back, satisfied. “I’ll have to do a more conclusive test later, but that gives me the information I need. Thank you for the cooperation, Cheng-Huang.”

  “Not at all, Artifactor. I am relieved to see progress, no matter how small.” Cheng-Huang openly hesitated, studying Sevana from the corner of his eye before daring to ask, “You said that you wish to form ‘barriers.’ I take that to mean that you have a plan in place, then?”

  “We have a theory in place,” Sevana corrected. “I told you part of it, did I not? We’ve since tried to define the parameters. We believe that cordoning off the island with a barrier and forcing the lava to flow toward the outer edge is feasible.”

  “Lava in and of itself doesn’t have much force, you see,” Master put in as an aside, picking up the peach to stare thoughtfully at it once more. “What makes it dangerous is the extreme heat that it carries. Granted, once it starts moving, it can flow very quickly. We have a record of a volcano emptying out within an hour once it erupted.”

  “This is actually to our benefit,” Sevana observed. “It means that we don’t have to keep a barrier around it for very long. Once the lava is settled into place, we can leave it there for a few hours to make sure that it cools, then release it. It will lessen the magical burden we’re carrying.” And they needed all of the help they could get in that quarter. Even with five of them actively pouring magic in, there was too much demand.

  “Aside from the lava, we will also place a barrier around the volcano itself, to enclose the ash that will spill out of the top.” Master poked at the peach, mouth pursing into a frown. “That is the part that I am uncertain of, to be frank, as most of the explosive force we’ll face will be from the top. A great deal of gases and force will come from there, so it will be the hardest to contain, and arguably the most dangerous. I wish there was a way to test this in small scale before we commit one way or another.”

  Sevana opened her mouth, paused, then closed it thoughtfully. “Surely we can. We have three deities and a Fae, after all.”

  “I can replicate the island and volcano,” Cheng-Huang offered. “The effects of the volcano might be a little challenging to replicate.”

  “Aran can do it, I think, if you need help.” Sevana had seen him do things that were similar, at least. “It should be close enough for us to gauge things with.”

  “Then we’ll wait for him to come back before trying it. In the meantime, Cheng-Huang, if you can start work on the volcano itself? That way we’ll have it ready to go when Arandur returns.” Master rubbed at his chin. “I have a terrible suspicion that we won’t have the power necessary to contain both ash and lava at the same time.”

  Sevana had initially believed they could, but after discussing numbers with Master, she was harboring some of the same doubts. “But the only other option we have is drilling in the side of the volcano and draining the lava out so that it can’t explode. And how are we going to manage that?”

  “I’m not saying we have to do go that route, sweetling, I’m just saying that the plan we have right now might not work. Let’s not close off our minds to other possibilities.” To Cheng-Huang, Master offered a relaxed smile. “Not to worry. We often go through at least one or two plans before we hit the magic one that actually solves the problem.”

  That was true, most of the time. It was part of why Sevana enjoyed her job—she could never predict how things were going to work out.

  But really, if they couldn’t contain the ash cloud then what alternative did that really leave them?

  Cheng-Huang seemed satisfied by that answer, so he bid them a simple, “I will take my leave, then. Call me again if you require assistance.”

  “We will.” Master kept up the benign smile until he was gone before turning to Sevana. “Sweetling. I’ve lost count, all things considered. What plan are we on now?”

  “Plan S,” she sighed, “for Screwed.”

  ‘Ash’ wasn’t just smoke from the liquid hot rock trapped inside of a volcano. It was actually coarse particles made from tiny fragments of rock, minerals, and volcanic glass. It looked like grains of sand—very fine particles that were powdery in nature. If the wind got hold of it, because of its light nature, it could be carried hundreds of miles out in all directions. Near the volcano it would collect in thick deposits, making life difficult in more ways than one. Never mind the cleanup effort it would take to get all of that ash out again, but it posed serious health concerns to any living creature on the isle as well.

  That of course didn’t take into account the force necessary for ash to be propelled out of the volcano to begin with. The eruptions were normally so severe that it would shatter the solid rock magma chamber and a good portion of the volcanic mountain itself. Doing that would send massive chunks of rock in every conceivable direction. On an isle as small as this? It would consume the majority of it and make the isle completely uninhabitable for decades.

  Sevana sat cross-legged on the floor, charts and logs and numbers spread about her, absently chewing on the edge of her pencil in frustration. The numbers did not look promising. Now that she had reference books (thanks to Master) to confer with, she realized that she had underestimated the force behind volcanic explosions. At first she thought that the problem was not in having enough power, but in being able to blend the three gods’ powers well enough. Now she realized the true problem was having enough magic to do the job. The lava they could contain. Sevana was absolutely positive on that.

  The ash cloud and explosion? Not likely.

  From outside sounded a general exclamation from several voices overlapping, some screaming, and not a few curses. Then it sounded like a herd of elephants panicking and running in every direction. What in the world?! Sevana scrambled up to her feet and bolted for the door. Wrenching it open, she got a foot outside when she caught sight of the shadow stretched out over the ground, there and gone i
n a second. There was no mistaking that very distinctive shape, and a smile lit her face.

  Their dragon had arrived.

  Knowing that Aran must be nearby as well, she headed at a trot for the unofficial landing area. Or tried to. There were so many panicking people that got in her way that Sevana found herself tripping every three steps. Fighting her way through them annoyed her, but not enough to dim her relief that Aran had safely returned. Even for a Fae, entering dragon territory during hatching season was dangerous.

  Her skimmer was already on the ground, Aran heading her direction. When he caught sight of her, he waved an arm over his head in greeting, a smug smile on his face.

  As well he should. She waved back and called out, “Good job! How hard was it?”

  “Harder than I hoped, easier than I expected?” he offered, coming to a stop in front of her. “They were all interested in the bribe the gods sent along with me, but none of them were keen on the idea of trying to talk to an upset phoenix in her sleep. Apparently that breaks all sorts of godly protocols.”

  Sevana bet it did. “But you convinced one of them.”

  “It took some convincing, but yes. He’s a younger fledgling, hoping to make a reputation for himself, or so I gathered. His name is Kenelm. I told him to land at the base of the mountain.”

  “It’s the only clear space for him,” Sevana agreed. As they talked, her eyes roamed over him, taking stock. He looked tired, as expected, and perhaps more strung out than he wanted her to see. Aran had this strange tendency to want to always appear strong in front of her, which was silly—no one could be strong all of the time. She’d rag him for that except she had the same tendency. “I think you need a hot meal and sleep.”

  “After we get a phoenix settled.”

  That wasn’t an argument from him, but an agreement. Satisfied, she struck off toward the mountain and caught him up to speed as they walked. “Master arrived shortly after you left. He was able to bring the references that I need so we have better data and numbers to crunch.”

  “How does it look now? Will your plan work?”

  “Part of it will. Part of it…it doesn’t look very viable.”

  Aran frowned down at her. “So do we have a backup plan?”

  “We do, although how we’ll pull it off is beyond me.” She eyed Aran sideways, a stray thought entering her mind. The Fae were masters at the different elements, so didn’t it follow that he might be able to do their backup plan safely? Aran stated earlier that he had doubts on whether he could do it or not, but if fortified with human magic, it might be more possible.

  Just how fireproof was a Fae?

  They rounded the last bend of the road and found the dragon sitting there, waiting for them. He was indeed a fledgling, half the size of a full grown adult. Which meant he was the size of a small cabin. His skin still retained the paleness of a child, so that he was a sky blue, gold eyes alight with curiosity and perhaps a touch of nervousness. Around his neck he proudly wore his ‘bribe,’ a thick gold chain long enough to become more of a collar for his adult body, when he eventually grew into it. Considering his youth, this might be the first piece of his gold collection.

  Sevana greeted him with politeness, as any sane person would do in the presence of a dragon.

  “Kenelm,” Aran greeted, “this is Sellion, of the Fae.”

  Kenelm extended his neck out to get a closer whiff of her. “You smell human and Fae.”

  “I’m human by birth, Fae by blood,” Sevana explained. “It’s a little complicated.”

  Drawing back, Kenelm gave a low hum that signaled…thoughtfulness, perhaps?

  If he wasn’t curious enough to ask questions, Sevana had no intention of volunteering the story. She pressed on. “Arandur explained to you that we need you to enter Dreamscape and speak to the phoenix in the volcano. Did he tell you what we need conveyed to her?”

  “He did not,” Kenelm denied. “What words must I speak?”

  Dragons as a whole tended to be a little arrogant in talking with humans. To converse with one so polite was very odd. Was this because of his age and trying to make sure he earned the right to keep that gold necklace? Or was it because he was in the presence of a Fae and a quasi-Fae? Either way, Sevana decided not to question it. “First, express our concern for her. Assure her that we wish to bring her out of the volcano.”

  Aran gave her a look of mild surprise. She knew why. That wasn’t what the other three gods wanted at all, but what they wanted was unrealistic. They couldn’t keep the phoenix confined inside of the volcano with no repercussions. To make the situation permanently safe, the first step was drawing her out of there.

  “Tell her that in order to give us time to find the right method to release her without blowing the volcano sky-high, she needs to be perfectly still. Limit her own power as much as possible. Every time she even thinks of twitching, the volcano reacts, and that impacts how much time we have until it explodes.” Seeing how intently the dragon watched her, and a little worried she might have given him too much to say at once, she added, “You don’t have to repeat my words exactly. Tell her the important things.”

  “You wish to bring her out of volcano, she needs to be still, limit her power, give you time to find solution,” Kenelm summarized concisely.

  Relieved he could recite that so casually, she smiled at him. “Precisely.”

  “I will tell her.” The dragon looked around, and not seeing a flatter spot than the one he sat in, he curled up with his nose resting on top of his tail and closed his eyes with a fixed determination. Kenelm drew in a deep breath, blew it out in a scorchingly hot gust of wind, and settled.

  Sevana blinked at him in astonishment. “He can fall asleep that fast?” she whispered to Aran.

  “Entering Dreamscape and sleeping is different for dragons,” Aran explained softly.

  “Is this one of those things that you would explain to me, but attempting to would frustrate me and make my head explode?” she ventured.

  Aran shrugged, a little amused, which she took as agreement. It wasn’t the first time they’d run into situations like this. Resigned, she let it lie.

  In three seconds flat, the dragon’s eyes opened again. “She will not speak with me.”

  Sevana stared at him with open-mouthed dismay. “Whyever not?!”

  Was it her imagination, or was the young dragon pouting? “She claims I have no authority. She will only speak to the one in charge.”

  Well that was all fine and dandy of her to say so, but even a quasi-Fae couldn’t enter Dreamscape. Or could she? Sevana turned to Aran, the only one of them remotely an authority on this. “Can I enter it?”

  He rubbed at the back of his neck, looking thoughtful. “You can, and you can’t. It’s a little complicated.”

  “Un-complicate it,” she ordered.

  Aran gave her that look, the one that said she was amusing him on some level. “A dragon can bring you into Dreamscape so that your presence is there, but you can’t communicate with anyone but him. He can hear you, you can hear him, but to anyone else you are just a figure standing there.”

  How would that make any difference, then? “Does the phoenix know this?”

  “She does,” Kenelm assured her.

  “I think it’s more she needs to see with her own eyes who’s negotiating with her,” Aran posited. “Either way, Kenelm is our ambassador, there’s no way around that.”

  Kenelm’s chest puffed up at the word ‘ambassador.’ Sevana eyed that reaction and wondered if Aran had used that term specifically to soothe the young dragon’s figurative feathers. He likely had; he was nice that way. “Alright, well, I’m game to go in. But how do we manage that?”

  “You must be dragon touched.” Kenelm took in a slight breath and deliberately blew it over her.

  Even though he had carefully controlled the heat in his breath, she still felt like she had entered a steam bath, or a hot spring, as that breath gusted over her.

  “Now, lay
down next to him,” Aran instructed as he took her shoulders and guided her to lean against the dragon’s side. “I’ll guard both of you while you’re in Dreamscape.”

  Sevana didn’t think anyone would dare to mess with her while she was unconscious, but it was true that the volcano was still unpredictable, so she felt better that Aran was watching her back. She deliberately closed her eyes and tried to keep herself mentally open to the dragon.

  Before she could think to ask if there was anything she needed to do, between one heartbeat and the next, she was in a very alien landscape.

  Turning slowly, she took stock. She was no longer on an isle, but a flat expanse of earth that stretched out past sight. The land curved around the edges so that it led into small hills and farther on, mountains. Seemingly touching the ground was a planet, dominating the night sky, with smaller moons in orbit around it. The planet was streaked in creams and oranges and tans, looking rather uninhabitable.

  This was Dreamscape?

  There was an eerie tone to this landscape, a sense of wrongness that Sevana could feel, but not define. It felt uncomfortable, not painful, but as if she were in exactly the wrong place at the wrong time. She felt as much out of place as a fish in a desert, and the feeling grew the longer she stood there.

  Kenelm sat upright next to her, looking very comfortable in this space, but also taut with nervous tension. Then again, the phoenix had kicked him out of here once already; he had every right to be worried she’d do it again.

  From the distance, in between two of the smaller hills, a figure appeared and glided effortlessly toward them. Sevana had had a notion or two of what a phoenix looked like, and this culture’s idea of a phoenix was very different, apparently. It had the head of a pheasant, the body of a mandarin duck, the tail of a peacock, the legs of a crane, and the wings of a swallow. Such a mismatch of birds should have looked very odd, but somehow it looked right, rather elegant. She glowed red and gold in the night sky and came to rest several feet away, head cocked in query.

  Her mouth did not move, but Sevana gained the distinct impression that she was speaking, and so did not try to interrupt.