“Speaking of your father …” Nolan pulled out what was left of his weapon. “You owe me a sword.”
Alec slung an arm over Nolan’s shoulder. “Come to the shop, and I’ll get you a new one. I’m sure one or ten spare ones are lying around. Besides, I have something I want to give you.”
“One or ten?”
“Production has picked up a bit.”
They reached the village, where several groups practiced weapon skills. Daren waved from a distance and ducked as Rylan whisked a sword through the air. They continued past the field and through the main section of the village. Several people strolled by and waved.
When they entered the armory, Kardos looked up from his anvil. “Where’ve you been?”
“Practicing.” Alec threw his bag on the ground. “Nolan’s going to need a new weapon. My sword cut his clean through.”
Kardos stopped his hammer mid-strike, and his eyes rose with interest. “Did it now?”
“One good swipe.”
Kardos chuckled and wiped his head with his forearm, leaving a sooty streak. He then set the hammer on the anvil and shoved his current work into the coals of the forge. His intense eyes examined Nolan, making his skin crawl.
The last time they’d spoken, Kardos had stabbed him. Nolan felt no regret from Kardos’s emotions, nor did the blacksmith say anything more about it at all. It didn’t surprise Nolan in the least. He suspected the word “apology” wasn’t in the blacksmith’s vocabulary.
Kardos went to a row of swords displayed on the wall. After a thoughtful inspection, he took one down.
“Try this.”
Nolan gripped the sword and gave it a few swings; it was more comfortable than his last one. “This is excellent, sir.” Nolan inspected the flawless blade.
Kardos didn’t acknowledge the compliment, but his pride swelled. “Just finished that one last week.”
“Thank you.”
Kardos nodded and went back to his place at the forge.
Alec emerged from a side room, a bundle in his hands. “Here, I made these for you.”
Kardos snorted. “So that’s what those are for. For a while there, I thought he might build a house or something.”
Nolan cast Alec a questioning glance; Alec shoved the wad of fabric toward him. Nolan unrolled the heavy bundle and the sound of metal clanged. In his hands lay a large stack of throwing spikes.
“You’ve been busy,” he said as he tried to get a general count of them. What does he expect me to do with these? Nolan wondered how much weight his pouch could take. He might have to take out some stuff. His ink and quill would have to go; he didn’t use them so much nowadays.
“There’re about fifty,” Alec said.
“Fifty?”
“Well, considering how fast you can throw, I wouldn’t want you to get bored.”
“Wow, Alec … I uh …”
“You don’t like them?” Alec said, his excitement deflating.
“No, it’s not that,” Nolan said. “I’m just not sure how I’m supposed to carry them.”
Alec’s enthusiasm flared back to life. “I’ve got that taken care of, too.”
He went across the room and returned with a handful of leather. “Here. This belt wraps around your hips twice.” He pulled it around Nolan and buckled it into place. “It will hold thirty. The bracer goes on your left arm, and this band on your right leg. That way they’ll all be in easy reach, but not encumber you when you need your sword.”
“Impressive.” Nolan fastened on the bracer while Alec shoved the spikes into the band on his leg. “Did you come up with this on your own?”
A boyish grin spread across his face. “Remember, I’ve lived in an armory all my life.”
“Don’t blame me!” Kardos’s face was like stone, but, humor lingered in his emotions. “I’ve got nothin’ to do with those oversized nails. That was all his doing.”
Alec shrugged. “I thought … Well, I know you aren’t fond of bows, and this might come in handy.”
Nolan inserted the spikes into the bracer. “This must have taken you a while.”
Alec smirked. “Not that long.”
After he’d finished inserting the last one, Nolan examined himself. The bracer he’d have to get used to, but the leg band and the belt were comfortable. Though he reminded himself of a porcupine, he imagined how the spikes could function with Speed and Accuracy quite well.
“Thanks, Alec.”
“It’s the least I can do.”
Nolan met his eyes. “So, when are you leaving?”
“You’re still trying to get rid of me?”
Kardos stopped hammering. Both fear and concern lurked behind his stony frown.
“I’ll be back in a minute, Father.” Alec motioned for Nolan to follow him outside.
Twilight was nearly upon them. A Speed user began her nightly routine of lighting the village fires. In the past, the process was almost instantaneous, with lights appearing from nowhere. Now that Nolan had Speed, he saw the girl jogging from one lantern pole to another.
“I still wonder if you shouldn’t be going in my place,” Alec said.
The thought had crossed his mind more than once, but a sinking dread of the village coming into danger kept Nolan’s resolve firm. “Emery wanted me here, and he needed your sword.”
“That was before you started winning.”
“Well, that’s only because I can cheat.”
“In a real battle, cheating can be useful, especially against the Rol’dan.”
Nolan looked to the sky. He still hadn’t gotten used to the darkness and the constant movement of the Nass. Seeing the reality of them made his stomach churn.
“I had thought about leaving today,” Alec said, “but I wanted to spend some time with you and Father. I’ll go at first light instead.”
“Your father seems different,” Nolan said.
“He is different. Something about getting his Shay power, and finding out how my mother died, gave him some measure of peace—not that he’s a pleasant man, mind you. But things between us have been good.”
“I’m glad,” Nolan said. Kardos did seem more at ease.
“See you in the morning?” Alec said.
“I’ll try, but Flann wants me out at the ruins first thing. It’s my turn to watch the temple.”
They stared at each other briefly, and then Nolan leaned in and gave him a hug. They clung to each other before separating.
“Take care of yourself, okay?” Nolan said.
“Of course. Don’t I always?”
Nolan laughed. “As long as you keep that temper of yours in check.”
“Let me know how those spikes work out.”
“I’ll give you a demonstration when you come home.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it.” Alec stepped off and turned so he could walk backward to face Nolan. “Farewell, my friend.”
Nolan watched until Alec disappeared into the armory. “Stay safe, my brother.”
Chapter Thirty
NOLAN PROPPED A LOG against the outside of the temple wall, kicking a few rocks around the base to secure it. Greer stood next to him, his posture still and erect, as usual. Even in daylight, a faint glow shone from the Guardian. And with Alec gone, Greer rarely left Nolan’s side.
“Numbers are up at practice,” Greer said. “And they are improving, if slowly.”
Brushing dirt from his hands, Nolan walked away; Greer followed.
“I’ve noticed the number of girls increasing as well,” Nolan added.
Greer frowned. “I’ve tried to reason with Malik. He said he gets too hot in the tunic, and it constricts him while trying to teach. He insists the girls aren’t coming for him.”
Summoning Perception, the log came into Nolan’s focus as if a few steps away.
“How are you faring with the new powers?” Greer asked.
Like the drum of a woodpecker, the spikes hit the log. Nolan studied his handiwork with satisfaction. “
Very well, actually.”
“And have you considered the stones?”
Nolan headed back to the log to collect the spikes. “Yes, but you haven’t given me much to work with.”
“I told you what the legends foretold, the information Brim passed on to us upon our creation.”
“You’ve told me they need to be combined, not how I’m supposed to do it.”
“I have told you all I know.”
“But you have ideas, don’t you?” Nolan shoved the last spike into his belt.
“Please forgive me, Master Nolan,” Greer said. “It is not my place to lead you in your journey. Considering Brim has gifted you with so many abilities, I believe the task has been assigned to you.”
“Alcandor gained all six powers long before I did.”
Greer’s face hardened, but he said nothing, like every other time Nolan mentioned King Alcandor’s name.
Nolan cleared his throat. “Well … talk to Malik again. Convince him to cover himself. It might help with the distraction problem he’s having amongst the girls. And if all else fails, tell him I insisted.”
“Should be effective.” Greer bowed his head. “Will you be returning home soon?”
“Yes.” He hurled another round of spikes into the log. “But not quite yet.”
“Very well,” Greer said. “I will speak to you more this evening.”
The Guardian brought forth Speed and ran into the forest toward the village, leaving Nolan alone.
Nolan sighed. Once the others returned, he’d have no excuse not to combine the stones—whatever that meant.
He returned to the log and yanked the spikes free. This time, he’d arranged them in a swirled pattern. Tucking them into place in his holders, he glanced toward the temple. He didn’t need to stand in the light or hold a Shay stone. His powers stayed complete on their own. But any time he got near, they still drew him.
For a while, he tried to ignore the stones. He threw a few more rounds of spikes, practiced on his sling, and then went straight to tossing huge rocks. Finally, he couldn’t take it any longer. He headed for the temple.
Nolan circled the outside of the temple until he found the ladder cut into stone on the side, leading to the top of the dome. With a small swell of Strength, he pulled himself up. And with Accuracy, he carefully made the climb. Once he reached the top, he admired the artwork of the structure. In many ways, the metal framework reminded Nolan of a half-built spider’s web; the beams crossed in the middle, and the stones resembled flies carefully wrapped for a future meal.
Nolan stretched his legs apart, balancing on two metal beams as the ruined city stretched before him. Even now, in its dilapidated state, a hint of its former glory still shone. It was bigger than he’d expected; remains were scattered in parts of the forest where Nolan hadn’t yet ventured.
The power in the stones pulsed, drawing Nolan to them. He shifted his foothold and squatted to study the nearest one. It rested in a perfect recess, as if the metal embraced it. Nolan reached for it, but the opening was too small for his hand.
Carefully lowering himself onto the beam, he pushed the stone upward with his fingers and grabbed it with his other hand. The Stone of Perception connected with his Shay. He closed his eyes as the power vibrated through him.
“So what am I supposed to do with you?” he said to the stone while caressing it in his palm. “How do I combine you with your friends?” He considered the small, painted rocks, the ones Hakan had given him months before. He supposed if he placed them all together in a bag, they would be combined. It wasn’t a good idea. But at this point, he didn’t have any others.
He scanned the metal dome and took note of the other stones’ locations, and then his eyes caught another recess, directly at the meeting point of the web-like beams.
It looked bigger. Not wider, but deeper than the others. Could all six fit? Could they be stacked, one on top of another? The amount of space looked right. No. It can’t be that easy.
Stepping toward the center, he staggered, the floor below shifting with vertigo. Nolan swallowed and shut his eyes until the dizziness left. Okay. It’s not so easy.
Instead of walking, he crawled. He made it to the center, his heart thundering. Licking his lips—which had gone completely dry—he dropped the stone into the recess with a clink. The symbol of Perception shone directly on the temple floor.
He crawled to retrieve another stone and returned to the center. Sweat streamed down his face, stinging his eyes and dripping from his nose to splatter far below. Holding tightly to the Stone of Strength in his moist palm, Nolan carefully dropped it on top of the first. He lowered his head through the bars and stared at the floor below him.
A circle of pure white light formed in the center of the room. But instead of two distinctive symbols, the colors melded together into parts of words.
Nolan froze. He didn’t actually believe he’d see anything. He summoned Perception to get a better look, but the letters were too disconnected to discern.
Retrieving the Stone of Empathy, he dropped it on top of the others. The lines changed; the violet of Empathy joined the previous two.
“By Brim! That’s it!” Nolan laughed. Though he still couldn’t read the words, he’d found the answer. At least, he hoped he’d discovered something.
He pulled through the bars, searching for the next stone. As he rose, his Perception caught a thundering noise similar to when Vikas and Alec had arrived home with the Speed stone. Strange. Maybe Vikas had taken some villagers for a day trip. As he focused in on the noise, his heart fell into his stomach. Crows. It came from the wrong direction, nowhere close to the village.
Nolan jumped to his feet, balancing on metal rafters as he pulled two spikes, all the while hoping he was wrong. His hands shook so much he wondered if he’d be able to throw.
He swelled his Perception. The sound intensified, and the approaching group changed direction—straight toward the temple ruins.
Nolan surged all of his powers at once just as a platoon of Rol’dan broke through the trees. Golden tunics flew toward him, swords shining in the late afternoon sun. Like the log he’d been practicing on, Nolan flung the spikes toward them.
The first wave of soldiers didn’t know what had killed them.
The second ranks barely noticed before the spikes embedded into their chests.
Nolan’s hands shook, but his aim flew perfectly. He yanked his Empathy from the horror and fear in their minds.
A few adjusted their run, diving out of the way. They yanked their swords as they ran toward the temple. Nolan leaped from one metal beam to another, using Speed and Accuracy at the same time to retrieve the stones. He flung them into his bag as a Rol’dan appeared on top of the dome.
Using all of his Shays, Nolan drew his sword, jumped toward the Rol’dan, and sliced the air as he fell.
The Rol’dan pitched backward off the temple, his head tumbling beside him.
Nolan had little time to ponder the gruesome act as he grasped the ivy climbing the temple. It slowed his fall until the ivy snapped. He increased Strength, hardening his body as his feet struck the ground.
Every bone jarred at the impact, the ground cracking under his feet.
Nolan swung around and blocked another’s blow, the metal of their blades echoing against the walls. The Rol’dan soldier fought well, though not as well as Nolan. After three strikes, Nolan impaled him and turned to fight his next enemy.
Soldier after soldier, men and women both, died by Nolan’s hand. And he felt everything—their fear, their pain, and the release of their death—yet he couldn’t pity them … not yet. He only had time to turn and allow it to happen again and again.
After the battle ended, the few remaining Rol’dan retreated into the trees. Using Perception, Nolan heard them going farther away.
His muscles shook with tension and exhaustion. He scanned the bodies littering the ground. He had killed more than thirty soldiers in just a few minutes.
So much blood.
So many lives.
Nolan retched on a pile of rubble.
He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his bloodstained tunic. With a shaking hand, he sheathed his sword. He must warn the others. The Rol’dan would certainly return.
“My lord,” a voice said, not much past a whisper.
Nolan jerked his head around, searching for the source of the voice. A boy lay in a puddle of blood, both fear and desperation trickling from his emotions. Quickly, Nolan scanned the remainder of the bodies.
No heartbeats.
No breathing.
This Rol’dan still lived.
“My lord,” the boy said again. “P-please. Have mercy. Heal me.”
Nolan cringed, his muscles trembling. Crows! There was nothing he could do! He held all the powers … except the one that could save him.
“I … I can’t.” Nolan words stuck in his throat. He’d never felt so helpless.
What small bit of hope the boy held faded. His eyes closed, and his head drooped to the side. Nolan dove toward him, desperation driving him. If he could help. If he could save this life Maybe I can stop the bleeding. Nolan ripped open the boy’s tunic and jolted back.
She wasn’t a boy.
A wound between her breasts flowed with dark, crimson blood. Nolan pulled her tunic closed as best as he could. The wound was too deep. He summoned Strength and lifted her onto his shoulder. Though he couldn’t heal her, others could.
Chapter Thirty-One
EMERY CADOGAN watched the girls rummage through the muck, searching for the Stone of Healing. Megan lifted a blob of mud, examined it, and tossed it aside, frustration tainting her emotions. Taryn sat in the sticky mire next to Megan, her arms buried elbow deep in the goo. Emery smiled, amused. He’d seen a lot of things over the years, but he’d never seen two young women rolling in the mud.
Hakan caught Emery’s eyes. Emery put a hand over his mouth. He knew better. Megan had a temper. If she caught Emery grinning, she’d probably lob mud at him.
“Should we help?” Garrick whispered.
“Brim save the man who asks them,” Emery said.
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