Jakob closed his eyes and stretched out with ahmaean. He noted nothing unusual.
Had he chosen incorrectly?
If he had delved into the fibers at the wrong time, and he had reached the wrong strand, it was possible that he might be unable to counter Raime.
He thought about what he knew of Raime, what motivated him. It was power, and stealing from those with power. Would there be a way to discover the source of that power in this time?
If there were daneamiin, there would have to be damahne as well. Would Shoren be here? Would the groeliin?
Jakob considered traveling to the mountains, reaching the north where he thought he could encounter groeliin, but he needed a different set of answers. Needed understanding—and quickly.
Taking a risk, he closed his eyes and shifted.
Jakob wasn’t certain whether it would even work, whether the daneamiin form would prevent him from shifting, and traveling, but it had to be done. He needed to find an ally, and if this was as far back along the fibers as Jakob suspected, that meant Shoren would still be here—and alive.
Would Shoren remember him?
Unless Jakob had appeared at an earlier point in time than when he had stepped into Shoren before.
There was too much to think about. He needed to focus on what he could do.
He opened his eyes and recognized the interior of the Tower. This floor looked the same as the one where he had been when he had appeared as Aimielen.
But was it the same? Or were there differences, those that would tell him that perhaps he had come at a time before his encounter was Shoren in the Forest.
While here, Jakob focused on the ahmaean, and used it to reach out from him.
It was not something that he normally would have ever considered, but a part of him—the part that was the daneamiin he occupied—understood what was needed and how to do it.
Jakob recognized the sense against him. Shoren was here.
He hurried down the hall, skipping in a flickering sort of manner, and recognized how the daneamiin managed it. There was something to their ahmaean, the way that they funneled it, focusing it as they went, that allowed them to skip in this manner.
At the door, he paused a moment when the door flung open.
The damahne standing before him had a distinguished face, and deeply drawn brown eyes. He wore a gray tunic and brown trousers, the fabric nothing like Jakob had ever seen before.
“What is this? Why are you—”
“Shoren,” Jakob started, his voice sounding strange in his ears as it came out in a female daneamiin’s voice. Jakob shook away the strangeness of it, focusing instead on what he could do. “It’s Jakob. You told me that I could come back and—”
Shoren stared a moment before gathering himself. “Jakob? How is this possible? How are you here?”
Jakob shook his head. “It’s too much to explain. I need your help.”
“What kind of help?”
Jakob was relieved that Shoren seemed to accept the situation without too many questions. He seemed to remember him. “The fibers were damaged.”
“You said that before. You claimed that the fibers were injured, but that there was darkness seen along the fibers as well.”
“This was a new injury, and one that traces back to this time.”
Shoren’s eyes blinked closed. Ahmaean swirled around him, and Jakob could practically see the way he turned it, shifting it inside himself, pulling along the fibers. It happened in a flash, so fast that Jakob could almost have imagined it, and then Shoren opened his eyes. “This damage was not here before.”
“It was not, and I’m not entirely certain what to make of it.”
“The fibers are eroding. If this is not stopped, all of the fibers will disappear.”
“Is that possible?”
Shoren smiled grimly. “There are many things I once would have believed impossible. You have demonstrated that I needed to reconsider. You have allowed me to recognize that there is more for me to understand. So, yes. I believe it is possible.”
Shoren motioned him to enter the room, and Jakob followed him in, noting a richly appointed room with a solid, wooden desk with heavily carved legs, a chair that would have served as a throne in his time, and three orbs that glowed, much like those he had seen in the Tower.
Shoren paced around the room, and from Jakob’s time in Shoren’s mind, he knew how that helped the damahne think. There was power that swirled around him, and from it, Jakob knew that Shoren was likely accessing the fibers again, though he didn’t know whether he was attempting to look forward, or if he was looking back, trying to understand what had happened.
“If the fibers are damaged, what will happen?” Jakob asked.
“I have been trying to determine that from the moment you mentioned the other injury. If they erode, it is possible that they will simply disappear.”
“Is there another possibility?”
“Another possibility is that they will be reconstructed, and re-wound within the strands leading forward.” Shoren paused and met Jakob’s gaze. “I think I shared with you that time is not good or bad, it is not dark or light. It simply is. It cares not which strands carry forward, and cares not who weaves those strands. In that way, it is more like when the Maker and the Deshmaker were united.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You know of the Maker? The being who created all things. The damahne are an extension of the Maker. Our abilities—the use of the ahmaean—an extension of the power that once gave birth to all things.”
“I know some of the Maker. I grew up thinking the beings who lived in the Tower were gods.”
“Now that you have proven yourself the damahne, you must know the truths that we know. They are truths that you can learn in time. For now, we should focus on restoring the fibers, if it is possible.”
“There is a man in my time. He has lived a long life, longer than any man should.”
“How is that possible?”
“By stealing from others with power. He steals from the descendants of the damahne, from the daneamiin, and the Magi.”
“Magi?”
“The Magi are men and women with some of the ability of the damahne. In my time, they are felt to be a conduit to the gods.”
Shoren began pacing again. “It can’t be that the lessons of the damahne have been lost, can it?”
“The damahne have retreated from the world, Shoren. There were fewer and fewer of them, and now, I am the last.”
Shoren paused and looked at Jakob with a deep intensity. “You must not remain here for much longer. You know the dangers of staying in this form.”
“I am here to stop him, though I don’t know how to reach him.” Jakob considered a moment. “Do you have groeliin in your time?”
“Groeliin?”
“They are horrible creatures, and live in the northern mountains, and their ahmaean is dark, dangerous.”
“The north, you say?” When Jakob nodded, Shoren scratched his long chin. “There have been reports out of the north, though I haven’t taken the time to investigate them. We have had enough difficulty with the Den’eamiin.”
“Why difficulty?”
“Resettling them has been a challenge. I have fought to keep the damahne from harassing them. I have not had a chance to investigate other rumors.”
“Would there be a way for you to determine whether there is a source to the injury to the fibers?” Jakob’s mind was racing, trying to figure out some way to track down Raime. “Would there be a way for you to detect whether it’s pulling on my ahmaean?”
“You should be capable of tracking that yourself.”
“Not in this form. I’ve tried, but it doesn’t seem to work.”
Shoren sent a finger of ahmaean toward Jakob, and it swirled around him before settling within his head. He withdrew a moment, then took Jakob’s hand, and they shifted.
It was a dizzying experience shifting with another damahne. When
they appeared, they were once more near the mountains, and Jakob had a sense that he was near where he had been before. This time, he was deeper in the mountains, near a cavern. The gray sky overhead rumbled, thunder threatening rain. Wind whipped around him, carrying the sense of that rain, and the energy and violence of the storm.
“This is where it will be,” Shoren said. “The damage is greatest here.”
“Where is the ahmaean pulling me?”
Shoren tipped his head toward the cavern. “Down there. There is… something else within there.”
Shoren started into the cavern, and Jakob followed. Ahmaean swirled around him, and Jakob paid attention to what he did, focusing on the way that he used his energy, creating a defensive sort of barrier around him. Jakob had done something similar when facing Raime, but had been acting on instinct. Shoren was a damahne in complete control of his ability.
As they made their way through the tunnel, Shoren streaked his ahmaean along the walls of it, and faint light began to glow softly in the walls.
“What is that? What are you doing?”
Shoren glanced over his shoulder. “Is teralin lost in your time as well?”
“Maybe not lost, but not as well known.” Jakob thought of Novan’s staff, and the light that glowed along its length. Was it made of this same metal? “Why are you using your ahmaean along the walls?”
“If this is what I suspect, then I need to use the ahmaean this way. It will weaken me, so whatever you are able to do may be necessary.”
The farther they went, the more he realized what Shoren meant. His ahmaean trailing along the wall had less intensity, and it took longer for the light to begin glowing there. The farther they went, the more Jakob felt something pushing against them, a dark sort of energy.
This was where they were heading.
What would they find?
Would Shoren be able to do anything? He was a powerful damahne—perhaps one of the most powerful to ever live—but Jakob was now pulling him out of his time, taking him along a different path than he had traveled before.
That troubled him.
Only, what choice did they have? Without help, Jakob didn’t think he would be able to reach Raime in this time. He certainly wouldn’t have discovered this place. He had appeared near the mountains, but that wasn’t enough, not nearly enough to reach Raime. With his dangerous abilities, and with his knowledge gained over a thousand years, Raime might be more dangerous than even Shoren could withstand.
Jakob grabbed for Shoren’s arm. “I don’t think that—”
He didn’t have a chance to finish. Power surged again, blasting against Jakob, and he felt a dark energy.
Shoren reacted, pressing out his ahmaean away from him, creating a barricade that protected them.
“Dark teralin,” Shoren said softly.
“What is dark teralin?”
“Destruction. It is the power of the Deshmaker. Knowledge of it should have been lost long ago. How is it that this man has discovered knowledge of it?”
Jakob didn’t know the answer, but suspected the method was the same as how he had reached back in time this way. If knowledge of it once was known, then it made sense for Raime to have used the fibers, and traced backward, to learn that dark secret.
“That knowledge was not as lost as you might have believed,” a rough voice said. “You are predictable. And now I’ve discovered a way to finally accomplish what I’ve long sought.”
Jakob expected Raime to step out of the darkness, but that wasn’t what appeared at all.
What appeared was a nightmare. A creature out of a nightmare. It was a massive groeliin. Taller even than the creatures that had bound Alyta in place, this one had markings all along its body that reminded Jakob of the Deshmahne.
Yet there was no question in Jakob’s mind that this was Raime.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Jakob couldn’t move, but Shoren reacted, creating a wall of ahmaean that prevented Raime from reaching them. Dark ahmaean pounded against it, incredibly powerful, but Shoren held against it.
Somehow, Raime had traveled back into a groeliin.
And not simply any groeliin. A powerful creature that radiated dark ahmaean.
Jakob suddenly understood where Raime had stolen power in the past.
The ahmaean pressed toward them, and he felt helpless.
“Is this what you faced in your time?” Shoren asked. He sounded calm, but there was tension around his eyes, his jaw clenched.
“This is a groeliin, but not one I have ever faced before.”
Raime laughed. “You have faced none but the drones. I have held back, but no longer.”
“How do you defeat them in your time?”
“With my sword.”
Shoren clenched his jaw tighter. “A damahne who fights like a man?”
“A damahne who thought he was a man for his entire life.”
“There is no sword here, so we must find another way. Even if there were, I wouldn’t be able to wield one. That is not the way of the damahne.”
“Perhaps not during your time.” Jakob looked to the walls of the streaks of metal. If Novan had been able to use the same metal for his staff, would there be any way for him to pull a sword from it? “How do you remove the teralin from the walls of the cavern?”
“Mining teralin is dangerous. I have positively charged it, but the metal is unstable.”
“And yet, it’s all we have.”
“This is not the way of the damahne, Jakob.”
“I don’t know another way. I think this is the way we have to do this. He needs to be cast out of this form, and then…” And then Jakob would have to chase him down in his time. He would somehow have to convince Shoren to help if they were to prevent the groeliin from spreading, and to prevent them from attacking.
Shoren considered Jakob for a long moment. “You can use your ahmaean. I don’t know if it will work in your host form. The Den’eamiin do not have the same capacity as a damahne.”
“I was able to shift in this form.”
Shoren smiled. “Yes. That is not a capability of the Den’eamiin.”
As Shoren confronted Raime, the groeliin beating against the wall of ahmaean that Shoren held, his strength faded, the barrier growing more translucent. Jakob turned his attention to the wall of the cavern. How could he pull what he needed from it?
A sword. If he had a sword, he could face the groeliin—and Raime—in a way that Shoren could not.
Jakob used his ahmaean and probed the wall of the cavern. He tracked the ahmaean along the wall, and felt for how he could somehow pull teralin free. There was no clear solution.
“You must lock on to the teralin. You must pour some of yourself into it,” Shoren said. His voice was tight, and Jakob doubted they had much time. If he failed, would they be able to shift back to the Tower to keep Shoren safe? Or would this end up being the end of Shoren?
Jakob would not allow that to happen.
Lock on to the teralin. Somehow, he had to do that.
A section of the teralin in the wall called to him. Jakob hurriedly poured ahmaean into it and recognized how it acted as a reservoir, holding on to it. He used this, and pulled on it.
The teralin came free, connected to his ahmaean.
Jakob held it and noted that it was warm. It was an irregular length of metal, but he needed something in the shape of a sword.
With the thought, the ahmaean within the teralin shifted, elongating, and became a sword. Not just any sword, but one that could have been a replica of Neamiin.
Shoren’s ahmaean failed, and he sagged back.
Jakob felt a burst of power, a mixture of darkness that pressed out.
Raime cried out triumphantly. Jakob spun, the sword in his hand dancing, and slashed at Raime.
It had been months since he had used his sword, and he feared that he might have grown weak, but this was not his body. As he spun, he flickered, moving in the manner of the daneamiin, using knowledg
e that he had not possessed before coming back to this time.
Raime blocked him with a long, clawed arm.
Jakob spun, slicing with the sword.
The groeliin lunged. Jakob was forced to duck, rolling under the attack.
The creature was fast, moving more quickly than any of the others he had faced. The daneamiin’s body flickered, moving in a way the groeliin couldn’t follow.
Jakob brought the sword around and caught the creature on one arm.
Raime reacted, creating a barrier with his dark ahmaean.
Jakob emptied the ahmaean from his sword, cutting through it. He reached Raime, beheading him.
Shoren looked upon the fallen groeliin, pain in his eyes. “The damahne do not fight. We search for peace.”
“There would be no peace with him, not in this form.”
“I fear what we have triggered,” Shoren said.
His words pained Jakob. Had he forced Shoren to act in a way that ran against who he was—and what he was? Had he somehow influenced the damahne to do something that should not have been done?
Jakob hated that he might have, but there had been no choice.
“Can you repair the damage that was done?” he asked Shoren.
Shoren sighed. “The damage is tied to teralin.”
“Does that mean you can repair it?”
“It means that I know what caused it. I don’t know if I can restore what happened, but I will try.” Shoren turned away from the fallen form of the groeliin. “You should depart. Your host may not be able to tolerate your presence for much longer, if you haven’t overwhelmed her already.”
“Thank you, Shoren.”
He nodded, the pained expression still in his eyes. “It is time, Jakob.”
Jakob took the teralin sword and started to place it near the wall, when Shoren caught his arm.
“That cannot be replaced. After what you did…”
Jakob didn’t know if he meant the way that he had used his ahmaean in the teralin, or the fact that he had used the sword to kill the groeliin. Perhaps both.
He nodded. He focused on where he had first appeared in this time, and shifted. Then he turned his ahmaean inward, and stepped out of the host, the daneamiin who had allowed him to stop Raime in this time.
Twist of the Fibers (The Lost Prophecy Book 4) Page 29
