Twist of the Fibers (The Lost Prophecy Book 4)

by D. K. Holmberg

  Jakob shook his head. “I think I would’ve had a hard time believing that I was capable of facing the Deshmahne,” Jakob said.

  “And yet, I suspect you were able to defeat even the greatest of the Deshmahne. Your skills have grown dramatically. The way you carry yourself—your entire demeanor—is one of a soldier now.”

  “I don’t think the damahne were meant to be soldiers.”

  Novan tipped his head, looking to the rebuilding of the tower. “Perhaps not. But I wonder if that might have been a mistake. They chased peace, fearing what would happen if fighting occurred, never fully understanding the value that would come from recognizing that fighting sometimes is a means toward peace.”

  “Should it be?” Jakob asked.

  “Is that a change of heart? I had not thought you to be a student of the Urmahne.”

  “I think I’m quite far from being a student of the Urmahne, but I wonder if perhaps fighting to reach peace is the wrong answer.”

  “Think of what you saw, Jakob. Do you think there would have been any other way to stop the groeliin?”

  “I don’t even understand the groeliin. I don’t know what motivates them. What drives them?”

  “Raime drives them. Or he did this time.”

  “Are they inherently evil?”

  Novan sighed. “Who’s to say? I don’t know that we have an answer as to whether they are inherently evil, or if evil is what they were forced to become. They have power, and they are dangerous. Perhaps that is answer enough. They seek destruction, and that destruction risks disrupting everything the Maker has created.”

  “And now it’s you who seems to have had a change of heart,” Jakob said. “You were always more cautious with your religion.”

  “Only because I knew the Urmahne was not a true religion. It was instigated by the Conclave out of necessity.”

  “Don’t let the priests hear you say that.”

  Novan chuckled. He was holding his staff, gripping it as he had been doing since Jakob first appeared, and the letters along the length of the staff glowed softly. As they did, Jakob could feel the subtle swirling of ahmaean around Novan. He suspected that Novan was aware of it—he had to be, especially with the level of control that he seemed to possess. It was greater than what he had seen with Salindra, making Jakob wonder whether the Magi were aware of how they used ahmaean, or whether it was simply Novan.

  “The priests have long known my perspective,” Novan said.

  “I think I need to return to the Unknown Lands,” Jakob said. “If Aruhn knows about the fibers, perhaps he can help guide me along them, so that I don’t get lost when I attempt to travel them.”

  Novan arched a brow. “An interesting phrase that you chose.”

  “What? Travel? Would you prefer I use glimpse, which is what the other damahne seem to prefer?”

  Novan shrugged. “It matters little to me what term you use, only that traveling seems to imply you are pushing yourself backward along the fibers. That seems risky, even without the ability to do it myself.”

  “That is what Therin claimed as well.”

  “Therin?”

  Jakob nodded.

  “Interesting. Come with me, Jakob. Perhaps there is something I have that might be of use to you as you search for answers.”

  Novan turned, tapping his staff on the ground as he walked. Each step he took, the staff tapped, and each time it did, a pale light seemed to flash. It was brief, but each time it pulsed, it caused the ahmaean around Novan to swirl even more, as if the effort of using the staff triggered something within him and helped his connection to the ahmaean.

  Jakob followed, and Novan led him back to the library. It was a squat building that took up a small section of the palace grounds. It was incredibly familiar, and strangely welcoming returning here. The building had a blanket of ivy that crept along its sides and a damp, almost musty odor to it.

  Novan pulled the door open, and Jakob followed closely, keeping pace with the once taller historian. Jakob must have grown in the time that he’d been away, because he had gained perhaps an inch on Novan. Then again, were he damahne, he would necessarily be tall. All the damahne were tall, much like the Magi who were descended from them.

  Jakob waited at a table in the library while Novan searched along the shelves, ultimately grabbing a volume from them and returning to the table. He set it down in front of Jakob and patted the cover of the book. “This. When you said the name Therin, it triggered a memory.”

  “What memory?” Jakob asked.

  “There are many names mentioned in the ancient texts. Most have little reference, and it’s difficult to follow who is connected to whom, but in a few, names stand out. They are names that are mentioned only as a single name, not both a first name and family name. Many have questioned what that has meant over the years, but I have long suspected that the damahne only used their first names in these texts.”

  “And you saw the name Therin?”

  “That name. A few others.”

  “What of Baylan?”

  “Unfortunately, that name I am not familiar with.” He patted the top of the book again. “See if there’s anything in here that sparks anything for you, Jakob. If there is, then perhaps you can use that to know when you traveled. Perhaps that will give you some idea of what your vision thought was important for you.”

  “Why would that matter? The vision doesn’t necessarily take me to what’s most important, only to a time in my past.”

  “Are you so certain? Some have suggested that visions are granted when they are most important.”

  “I don’t know that we would have access to what the damahne consider important.”

  Novan stared at the book in front of Jakob. “No. The damahne kept their records separate. What I wouldn’t give to see them…” He shook his head, a wry smile coming to his lips. “But there are others who also have visions. Think of what the Magi possess.”

  “You mean their prophets?”

  “Yes. Men like Haerlin, those who have the ability to glimpse along the fibers, to see things that others of the Magi are unable to see. Many suspect they are given visions of what is important, not simply banal visions. That would be a useless ability.”

  Jakob resisted asking more. Hadn’t Haerlin had visions of him? Hadn’t Raime had visions of him? And the high priests visions had entailed a view of nothingness. Was that what Jakob was to trigger? He didn’t want to be responsible for the end of all things, but that seemed to be the natural conclusion to nothingness. The idea that he could be responsible for that horrified him.

  “If that’s the case, then each vision I have had has been important to me for some reason.”

  “Until you gain control over it, I have to believe the visions you do obtain are important for various reasons.”

  The vision of him facing the groeliin had certainly been helpful. It was because of that vision that Jakob had managed to fight the groeliin again. Without it, he wouldn’t have known how to split open the ground to swallow the creatures. He might have ended up with the spear in his shoulder, but that spear had possibly saved him and Brohmin.

  What of his vision of Shoren?

  That had involved the choosing. He had seen one of the first Conclaves, and had seen their choice of Uniter. Didn’t that have value to him, and help him understand what it was that he was asked to do?

  Then there was his vision of Aimielen. In that vision, he had seen the first of the daneamiin, and had understood how they were viewed by others of the damahne. He didn’t know quite why he had been given that vision, but perhaps it had been so that he could understand what Anda—and her people—had gone through.

  What of seeing Niall?

  The vision had been incomplete, though he suspected that had he remained in the vision, he would have seen his predecessor—his great-father—fight and kill others. It had given him an understanding of what his great-father had gone through, and how Neamiin had been used before.

&nb
sp; If all of that was true, then it meant that his vision as Baylan was equally true and important. What had he learned and seen there?

  He had seen the way the daneamiin were still treated, and had recognized that there was war. Beyond that, he had learned that he had placed himself too deeply into the past, and that he endangered the damahne he possessed when he did.

  Was there anything else?

  That was what he needed to determine.

  He took a seat at the table and began flipping pages in the book. Novan watched him for a moment, before nodding to himself and leaving, making his way through the library, reminding Jakob of all the other times that they had worked together, and that Novan had left him.

  The words were in the ancient language, but each time Jakob attempted to read the ancient language it became easier for him. His facility with it improved, and he no longer stumbled over each and every word, now able to quickly decipher it, reading it fluently.

  He didn’t see the name Therin, not at first, but recognized that there was a war.

  Had that been what Therin had indicated to him? Was that why the damahne had wanted him to retreat—or why Baylan should not have been there?

  As he read, he felt an overwhelming fatigue begin to strike him. It was the same as he had felt when he had been to the library before, the same tiredness that had often overcome him when he was sitting, studying, and working with Novan. Jakob wished he could keep his eyes open, but it was a struggle, and he finally rested his head, praying that he did not have a vision again, and praying that if he did, he did not step back to deeply and risk another of the damahne.

  Chapter Nineteen

  When his eyes flickered open, Jakob saw himself in the midst of a rocky, mountainous ridge. Deep beneath him stretched a stream of people, all walking quickly, making their way along a path that Jakob could barely see from his vantage. He knew it was there, and had walked it himself, but from his height, he could not see it. Flickers of darkness appeared at the edge of his vision before fading.

  I have walked it?

  Yes, I have walked it. Stay back.

  It was a warning, and one that he heard from deep within his mind. Unlike the last vision, this one seemed alerted to his presence, much like the time when he had been in the mountains and had faced the groeliin, learning that he could shift the earth.

  Where is this? he asked himself.

  If nothing else, he would have a conversation with himself if it were needed, one that might get him answers to what his connection to the fibers was, and to help him figure out how to use that connection.

  If Novan was right, this vision was important. What would he learn this time?

  You are here too strongly, the voice in his mind told him.

  I don’t have any other way of coming, Jakob said.

  There are other ways of viewing the past. You come too deeply. You risk both of us by doing this.

  So I have been warned. I don’t have a guide.

  The voice in the back of his mind seemed to gasp. No guide? How is it possible for you to follow the fibers if you don’t have a guide? You risk damaging them by walking this way.

  In the distance, the people making their way along the mountain path looked up. There was something that seemed almost familiar to him. They were all armed, each carrying swords, and wearing leathers, and the paint on their faces made him realize what it was that he was seeing.

  Antrilii.

  He had heard nothing about the Antrilii before meeting them with Roelle. Why would he have a vision of the Antrilii? Was it important for him to see them? Was there something about the Antrilii that he was meant to know? Or was it this conversation—the one with himself?

  Thunder rumbled distantly and then faded.

  Why are you here? the voice asked.

  I don’t know. Sometimes when I fall asleep, I have these visions.

  Visions? This is more than visions. You travel the fibers.

  Can you help me understand how I do it? Jakob asked.

  It is not something that should be easily done. No damahne has the ability to walk the fibers quite so boldly. And if they did, they would know that they should not. Such a thing is dangerous to all who move along the fibers.

  In my time, there are none who move along the fibers.

  For a moment, Jakob felt as if something rifled through his mind, before the voice returned.

  The damahne are gone? the voice asked.

  Apparently, I am the last.

  Which is why you don’t have a guide.

  I need to learn how to glimpse my ancestors so that I don’t move too dangerously along the fibers.

  That is how you plan to understand what the damahne can do?

  Do you have another suggestion? Jakob asked him.

  He was certain it was a him. There was something very masculine in the way the voice approached him, but which damahne was he this time? Why here—and why at this time? If it was the Antrilii, it would have been in the last one thousand years.

  There are other ways of learning. There are places of learning. The damahne keep records—

  Jakob squinted, trying to see the people making their way along the trail. What was it that they were doing? There seemed to be something important about their movement, but he wasn’t certain what it was.

  I’ve been to the place of records. The Tower has too many books for me to easily understand.

  There are other places besides the Tower, the voice said.

  I’ve been to the Forest as well.

  And there are places other than the Forest.

  Do you mean the daneamiin?

  They should not exist. They are no more a part of this world than the groeliin.

  Jakob was surprised that this damahne would be so upset about the presence of the daneamiin. What was it about them that angered the damahne?

  Why shouldn’t they exist?

  They are a perversion of the Maker.

  How? How are they a perversion of the Maker when they are nothing but peaceful.

  Without the daneamiin, the damahne would thrive. Their presence steals from the seal.

  The seal?

  This voice was providing him with additional information, but it seemed things beyond what Jakob fully understood. There had to be more—or had to be something that he could understand—but doing so required that he somehow pull on this damahne’s knowledge. If he could, if he could absorb some of the learning that the damahne possessed—he might be able to understand something as simple as tracing the fibers.

  Has it fallen? the voice asked.

  Seeing as how I don’t know what it is, I can’t answer.

  A chill washed through him. For a moment, it felt as if he couldn’t move, as if the damahne within him—the other being—took control.

  The seal must not fail, the voice said.

  What is the seal?

  The seal between creation and destruction. That between making and unmaking. It is what preserves everything. It is the purpose of the damahne.

  And if the damahne fall?

  You must not fall. The seal must not fail. If it does, that which the Maker created will be undone. The world of man requires the damahne, though they do not know it.

  Jakob felt overwhelmed. Brohmin had shared something similar, though not to the same extent. Had he known about the role for the damahne? Had Brohmin known more than he had let on?

  Thunder rumbled again. The sky was clear, but there was a distant edge of darkness.

  In my time, they view damahne as gods.

  In this time as well. There has been a war fought over it.

  What of them, Jakob asked, pointing toward the Antrilii walking along the path.

  The hunters?

  Jakob smiled to himself. Brohmin had been referred to as the Hunter by the Antrilii. Was that an intentional connection? Or was there something else to it?

  Yes. The hunters. What are they doing?

  They are hunters. They hunt.

&nb
sp; Jakob needed a better vantage, and he focused on a spot on the mountainside closer to the Antrilii, and shifted to it. Even in his vision, he felt a tug within his mind, and a pull upon his ahmaean, and then he appeared, standing closer. He could better see the Antrilii, and realized that one of them was dragging something along with him. Jakob stared, and it took a moment to see that he was dragging a groeliin.

  From here, Jakob could see how enormous the creature was. Tattoos marked the entire hide, and seemed to move. A dark ahmaean swirled around the groeliin.

  It’s not dead?

  The voice chuckled in his head. How could it be dead if we wanted them to study it?

  It’s enormous.

  They breed them large. The Hunters are well suited to the task, and are able to prevent them from getting too disruptive.

  When was this? If this was before the Magi founded Vasha, then the groeliin still had to spread, and still had to lead to the destruction that they eventually would manage. If it was later, then the hunters he saw below him were already the Antrilii.

  Would the voice inside his head be able to tell him?

  Was there any way that Jakob could frame the question so that he could discover that answer?

  Have the groeliin already attacked throughout the south?

  They attack?

  That was all the answer Jakob needed. This was prior to the groeliin spread, prior to them managing to practically destroy all of the south. Something had happened at that time, a dangerous change, one that had led to the gods retreating from the world.

  They attack, Jakob confirmed.

  Then the hunters must be more diligent, the damahne told him.

  Jakob doubted that would make much difference. He worried what would happen since he had shared a piece of the future with this damahne, though likely it mattered very little. The damahne could reach along the fibers, they could glimpse some of the future. It was likely that they knew what happened.

  How can I look back along the fibers without traveling them? Jakob asked.