“What does the Deshmaker do?”
Novan drummed his fingers on top of the book. “The Deshmaker represents destruction, an undoing of creation. There is some barrier that protects all the Maker has created from this destruction. The damahne have long felt that their power, and their ability, stand between creation and destruction and that doing so requires stability, and for them to honor what the Maker has made.”
“Which was why the damahne serve peace?” Jakob asked.
“And it’s why the Conclave has served peace,” Novan said. “We serve the same purpose. The Conclave was formed by many of those first damahne who recognized that there was a need for peace, and the need to follow the fibers, and try to find ways to ensure the peace.”
“Is that why the damahne have never directly fought the groeliin?” Jakob asked. “Wouldn’t they have the power necessary to stop them?”
“Having the power and using it the right way are two different things. With the abilities you’ve now been given, there are many things that you could do, but does that make them all right?”
“I’ve fought and killed groeliin, Novan. I’ve fought and killed Deshmahne. Does that mean that I’m not worthy of being damahne?”
It was a question that had come to Jakob the more that he traveled back, and met with and spoken to his ancestors. He was different from them and different in what he was willing to do. Was the fact that he was willing to fight—and kill—the reason that the nemerahl hadn’t bonded to him? Was he different enough from the rest of the damahne that he couldn’t bond?
“You have fought and killed, and I fear that it might be necessary again. The damahne the world once knew are no more.”
Jakob frowned. “But I am damahne.”
“You are damahne. And yet you are something different, I think. You were not born to them, not the way the damahne of old were born.” Novan leaned forward, and he fixed Jakob with his gaze. “I have put some thought into this. Ever since you returned to me, demonstrating your new ability, I’ve wondered what it means that you have developed the ability that you have.”
“Alyta thought that it was simply a confluence of chance,” Jakob said. “That the damahne had mingled with man often enough and that there was enough of a return to… something… that allowed her to awaken damahne ability within me.”
“Yes. I’m aware of what Alyta did. When she added her ahmaean to yours, she awoke your innate abilities. And from what you described of your experiences traveling from Chrysia to the northern mountains, you were already beginning to have visions, walking the fibers. That much makes it likely that you already had damahne abilities. But I wonder, how much was destined to come to you, and how much came from something changing.”
Jakob frowned. “What changed?”
“What changed?” Novan repeated. “You told me what changed. You experienced it. When you tracked Raime back along the fibers, you saw how he influenced them, and how his touch changed things, tainting them.”
“But he didn’t change the past.”
“Didn’t he? I would argue that Raime did change the past. He has lived through hundreds of years, far longer than any man is meant to live. His influence has certainly been felt along the fibers.”
Jakob hadn’t put much thought into how Raime’s impact on the fibers had changed the course of time, but what Novan said made sense. Raime would have changed things, and his influence over time would have been enough that it would have led to events that may never have happened had he not reached for power.
And then there was his tainting of the fibers as he attempted to reach back and claim power for himself. That tainting had changed the course of the present. It was the reason that Scottan had succumbed to the madness. Could it have been the reason for Jakob developing his abilities?
That was a possibility that he had never considered. Could Raime have caused the twisting of the fibers that came together in such a way that Jakob gained his abilities?
He looked over to Anda, and she studied him, almost as if she knew what he was thinking.
“You’re suggesting that Raime is the reason that I have the abilities that I do, that I have become damahne.”
Novan simply smiled. “I don’t know what to suggest. As far as I know, there has never been a damahne who was born to a man and woman. Each damahne was descended from another, and when there was any variation, there were new offspring.” He glanced to Anda and smiled again. “Which is not to say that such results were unfortunate. On the contrary, I think that the daneamiin created something even the Maker may not have expected. Theirs is a different power, and a different use to their ahmaean, one that might not be the same as what the damahne possess, but they are no less important.”
“I need to ensure that Raime doesn’t cause any additional destruction.”
Novan nodded. “I would agree.”
“To do that, I need to ensure that his source of power is removed.”
“And you believe that he uses the groeliin.”
“I believe that he takes from many creatures, the groeliin among them. After I stopped him, he was weakened. I don’t think that he’ll be able to capture and destroy one of the daneamiin, or even the Magi, in his current condition. Which means that he would have to go to his other source of power.”
Novan closed his eyes, steepling his fingers together as he thought. “That is a reasonable conclusion. It really is a shame that I was never able to turn you into a historian.”
“Maybe you’ve influenced me enough that I have historian tendencies,” Jakob said.
Novan chuckled. “Perhaps. If nothing else, the time we spent together has better prepared you for what you must face.”
“I intend to head Vasha soon.”
“Soon?”
“There is something else that I must do for me to understand my abilities.” And it was something that he thought he needed to do before attempting to face a horde of groeliin.
“What more would you think to do?”
“There is something I think Haerlin might be able to answer for me.”
Novan tipped his head to the side, his lips pressed together, and then slowly they spread into a smile. “I would like to be there when you speak with him if you don’t mind.”
“Why?”
“Let’s call it a historian’s desire to observe.”
Chapter Thirteen
Jakob had never visited Vasha. He’d traveled toward the city once, but the Deshmahne attack, and his need to reach Avaneam, had prevented him from ever making it all the way to that ancient city. Novan had told him that it was a city that once held meaning to the damahne, a place where they once had a presence, though from what Jakob glimpsed in his visions, he suspected that the damahne had a presence in many places long ago.
Though not yet a master of shifting, Jakob had become quite adept at it, now able to reach his destination with little more than a thought. He knew familiarity with the location and drawing on the ahmaean were the keys, but he also knew there was more to it than that—like with many things about the ahmaean, there always was more to it—but that was all he knew of it.
For him to reach Vasha, he needed help.
He needed Anda.
The daneamiin didn’t require the same familiarity to guide her. She could instigate the traveling, and with her connection to ahmaean, guide them across the great distance from the Great Forest to the once hidden city of the Magi.
They appeared atop a massive mountain. Clouds swirled all around him, covering the neighboring peaks, and obscuring them. Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance, but near enough that Jakob could feel it. The air held a hint of dampness, carrying with it the threat of rain from the approaching storm clouds.
An enormous palace rose up from the earth, made of stone nearly white enough to be gleaming. Each of its walls appeared to be a single sheet of stone, seamless much like the Tower of the Gods in Thealon. Distinct towers rose at each corner, with a central area in the mid
dle. All about it there was the sense of ahmaean.
It didn’t infuse the palace the same way that ahmaean infused the walls of the Tower, but there was more to it than a simple building would explain.
Jakob looked around the city and realized that they had appeared atop a terrace that contained only the palace. Below him sat another terrace, this one little more than rows of buildings—barracks, he realized—and an open space for the Denraen to practice. Would he see Endric here?
It had been months since he’d seen Endric, and despite how much he had changed, part of him still longed for the general’s approval. Without Endric’s willingness to work with him, would Jakob ever have developed into the swordsman he needed to be?
Then again, Endric’s willingness to work with them had made him into something other than damahne. Were he only damahne, he would never have picked up the sword. Were he only damahne, he never would have faced the Deshmahne or destroyed the traveling horde of groeliin.
Far below them was another terrace, this one little different from any other city Jakob had visited, other than the fact that it was high in the mountains. A few wisps of clouds swirled on the various terraces, and he wondered what it would look like from below. Would people standing on that lowest terrace look up and see the Magi palace, or would they see nothing more than clouds?
“You managed to bring us to the palace of the Magi in little more than a heartbeat when some men travel their entire lives and never manage to reach it,” Novan said.
He leaned on his staff, and the light played along the length of the wood, reflecting off metal that was embedded within it. Novan appeared far more comfortable here than Jakob would have expected. He knew the historian had visited Vasha before, and suspected that he had irritated the Magi much more than he had shared, but Novan seemed at ease. With the way his ahmaean swirled, power that Jakob had never known Novan to possess, he decided there had to be a connection to Novan and the Magi, though it was likely one Novan chose to ignore.
“Now that we’re here, where do we go?” Jakob asked.
He glanced at Anda, who had placed her glamour about her once more, the illusion of hair, and the removal of the exotic features of her race. It lessened her somewhat. Then again, were she to remain revealed as daneamiin, there would be questions, and neither of them was prepared to provide answers.
Doing so would only draw attention to the daneamiin and would place the rest of her people in danger. If others knew they existed—that the Unknown Lands contained a race of people with power that rivaled and exceeded the Magi—Jakob had little doubt that they would attempt to cross the Great Valley. It had been done before. That was the reason that the Valley was no longer provided access, though there had been a time when it had been. Jakob had seen it in one of his visions and had seen how Raime led armies of men across the Valley, attacking the daneamiin. He would not be responsible for such a thing happening again.
“There are many ways you could approach this, Jakob. I suspect the most direct would get you access to Mage Haerlin if that is all you want.”
“What else should I want?”
“There is another in the city that could help. He has no power with prophecy,” Novan said, anticipating Jakob’s question. “But he is a valuable ally. He is a Mage I respect.”
Hearing that from Novan was an impressive accolade. Novan was not a fan of most Magi, a fact that Jakob had found interesting when he had discovered it, so for him to endorse any Mage meant that this person would have to be extraordinary.
“Who is it?”
“Alriyn. He is the Eldest on the Council of Elders, and he is Roelle’s uncle.”
Had Roelle spoken of her uncle? He thought that she had, but perhaps not so much that he would remember. When he’d traveled with Roelle, he had been more concerned about discovering new catahs, and straining to observe the Magi, and uncovering what the Deshmahne might plan.
“Where will we find him?” Searching for Haerlin would be useful, but perhaps there was more he could learn in Vasha than what Haerlin knew. Besides, if this Alriyn was the leader of the Council, maybe it was possible he knew more than Haerlin anyway.
When he met these Magi, and they learned who he was, they would – like everyone else —see him as one of the gods of old. Jakob wasn’t sure that he was prepared for that perception but understood that it was likely. Maybe he could parlay that into a way of finding out what he wanted, but he would have to play it in just such a way that he didn’t create more questions out of his ignorance.
It was one thing for one of the older damahne like Alyta to present herself to the Magi and claim the knowledge of the gods, but it was quite another for Jakob—not even a year removed from believing that he was nothing more than a historian’s apprentice, much less himself believing the gods existed.
“Alriyn will be here, though he is a man of scholarship. I don’t know where he will be within the palace. When I was here last, he realized that I am a little more than I appear.”
Jakob chuckled. “Only a little more than you appear?”
Novan shrugged. “The Magi—at least, most of the Magi—cannot see the ahmaean. If they were able, they would’ve known about me long ago.”
“And what would they know?” Jakob asked.
It was a question he had never asked of Novan, but it was one that seemed appropriate to ask. The historian had power and control of ahmaean that was the same as the Magi, but it could also be viewed as the same as what Brohmin possessed. Had one of the gods gifted him in the past? There were many questions about Novan that remained unanswered, many questions that left him nearly as mysterious as Brohmin, who was perhaps the most mysterious of all.
Novan studied Jakob for a moment. “Considering that you are damahne—at least, you have the powers and abilities of the damahne—I would think you’d already know the answer to that.”
“If the answer is that you have ahmaean that I would expect to see from one of the Magi, then I have already observed that. If the answer is that you were gifted with ahmaean from a dying damahne much like Brohmin, then I would need for you to acknowledge that. Either way, you have power, and control of it, that I suspect even few of the Magi possess.”
Novan smiled as an answer and did nothing else. “In that, you would be right.”
“Then which is it?” Jakob asked.
Novan smiled. “There are some answers that are more fun to discover over time.”
“Then you will stay here while I find Alriyn and Haerlin,” Jakob said. He prepared to shift, planning to leave Novan behind. That was an advantage he now had that he suspected would irritate Novan.
Novan chuckled. “You have changed, haven’t you? There was a time when I would have been able to simply tell you what to do, and you would have done it meekly. Now you command.”
“I’m not so certain that I command, but there are particular answers that I need, and I sense a limited time in which to find them. If you’re not willing to help me find them, then I’ll move on to those who will.”
Novan tapped his staff. “Good. You will need that attitude when confronting those accustomed to power.”
“Like you?” Jakob asked.
Novan chuckled again. “I wouldn’t say that I am accustomed to power, but there is a certain expectation a historian has when it comes to interacting with others. As I said, there will be others here accustomed to similar things. I would have you prepared for that.”
“You don’t think my time facing the groeliin and the Deshmahne has prepared me for the Magi?”
“I highly doubt that you will attempt to cut down the Magi with that wonderful sword of yours. If you do, then I suspect we have a very different problem to work through.”
Now, Jakob chuckled. “No, I don’t intend to cut down the Magi with my sword. But I am also in a different place than I was when I first left Chrysia. I no longer fear the Magi, not as I once did.”
“Perhaps when you were first meeting them, fear would have m
ade you appropriately cautious, but now fear can only hinder you. What you need is healthy skepticism and a dose of confidence. Most of them will view you as a god, and you can use that to your advantage.”
“Most of them? I thought the Magi still viewed the damahne as gods.”
“As I said, most of them will. Alriyn is different. He has discovered that there is more to the world than he realized, and he perceives the damahne in a way that is more realistic, but also more challenging.”
“Can you help me find him?”
Novan looked up to the palace, his eyes taking on a distant expression. There was something about the expression that left him looking lost, an expression that Jakob understood. He felt much the same way at times. He often didn’t know where he fit, either, especially these days.
“I can help find him, and to know more about the Magi, it is best that you speak to him.”
“Where do we go?”
Novan turned to Anda. “Can you guide us again?”
She had been mostly silent, and she glanced from Novan to Jakob before nodding once.
Chapter Fourteen
The inside of the palace carried much of the same majesty as Jakob had observed from outside. The walls had a sheen to them, with the stone running completely uninterrupted from the floor to the ceiling. They were so smooth that it was hard to imagine they had been carved from the mountain and easier to imagine that the Magi had simply used their ahmaean, and scraped the mountain itself away.
The use of such power would be beyond most of the Magi, at least based on what Jakob had observed of them. They had abilities, but theirs were not nearly as potent when it came to managing to work with something like that stone. Then again, Jakob didn’t have a lot of familiarity with what the Magi were capable of doing.
Anda must have been equally impressed with the stone work. Outside of the palace, she had studied it with interest, but once inside, Jakob noted the way that she used her ahmaean, sending it sweeping along the stone, as if probing for the technique used in the construction. The daneamiin had an affinity for building, and they had a talent for working with stone. He had memories of a city so beautiful that it consisted of dozens upon dozens of buildings much like the Magi palace.
The Lost City (The Lost Prophecy Book 5) Page 11
