by Beth Alvarez
The mine. The reason Rune had swayed Vicamros to ally with Elenhiise. Of course she would have sent people back to manage it. He didn't know whether to be thankful, or curse himself for making the island so useful.
“My father served as the mine's overseer and a part of Ilmenhith's council,” Tobias continued. “I took over once he passed on. I'm not in Ilmenhith often, but when my queen calls, I answer.”
“As if you have a choice,” Rune muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. But why had she called Tobias, of all people? To issue orders, or to taunt Rune with her control over his people?
A hint of nervousness returned to the man's face. “I was not present when you were brought before the throne, but I heard what happened. I won't pretend to understand what's taken place between the two of you, and I'd prefer not to know. She's asked me to guard the Gate in the mine, and I will, but I won't be involved beyond that. Once the mages she's sending are ready, I'll be going back to Core.”
“What will you do until then?” Part of him hoped it would take a while for Tobias to depart. Rune had often hoped word of the ruin-folk and how they fared would make its way through the trade Gates, but it never had. The opportunity to ask questions was precious, but there was a stiffness in the way Tobias stood that said he wasn't sure how to behave around their one-time leader. Pressing would do no good, but if the man was bored, perhaps he'd be willing to seek deeper conversation.
Tobias shrugged. “I was on my way to the library.”
Not the answer Rune expected. “Is literacy more common among your people, now?”
“Yes, but I'd actually hoped to speak to the scholars. We've been stuck on how to repair one of the lifts for some time. I was hoping to see if they'd made progress in solving the problem.”
Rune straightened. “Are the schematics here?”
“Yes, there are copies in the library here, in the temple, and in Core, of course.” Tobias hesitated a moment, then offered a smile Rune dared say was almost timid. “Would you care to see them?”
“I would love nothing more,” Rune said, and the eager honesty that seeped into his voice seemed to put the man at ease. He'd frequented the library in his youth. There was a chance the scholars would recognize him, too, and the more people who realized who he was without him having to say it, the more likely he was to escape whatever fate Firal had planned. Already, the invisible noose around his neck seemed a little looser.
He motioned for Tobias to lead the way, and he did.
“I understand we have you to thank for a good portion of the repairs,” Tobias said as they walked.
“How do you figure? I wasn't here. The lifts weren't operational when I went into exile.”
The man shrugged. “My father said your research and notes were what got them started. A good portion of the work had to be completed by mages, which was easier, after we settled under Queen Firal's rule and the temple mages became our allies, but he assumed you'd intended to manage most of the repairs yourself.”
“I had,” Rune admitted. “I simply never had time.”
“A problem many of us face,” Tobias said.
They scaled to the second floor and Rune shared several shortcuts through the halls. Eventually, they arrived at the library's doors, and he motioned for Tobias to precede him. The younger man nodded his thanks, and Rune found himself wondering briefly at how easy it was to think of him as young. Tobias was more than a hundred years his junior, yet he'd aged like any other Giftless man. His life would be fast and fleeting, and he'd lay on his deathbed before lines of age found their way to Rune's face—if that happened at all.
He'd once assumed he would age like the Eldani and walk the world for several hundred years. That was before he'd understood the near-immortality of free mages. With his power sealed, would he pass before Firal, or after?
Before, idiot, he reminded himself with a quiet snort. You're still slated for execution if you don't cooperate.
“Here we are,” Tobias announced. He pulled a thick roll of paper from a rack and double-checked the label on its end before he used the roll to point at a table. “Move those books there, will you?”
All too happy to abandon that dismal train of thought, Rune gathered the books and moved them to a nearby desk while Tobias spread the schematics out on the table and found weights to hold the corners.
Across the room, one of the librarians peered at them from behind a large table, but made no move to stop them, or even investigate what they were after. Rune opened his mouth to ask which of the scholars were involved in the study of the ancient lifts, but halted when he felt the weight of the librarian's eyes. He stared back, silently willing the man to recognize him.
Tobias didn't seem to notice the exchange. He traced outlines on the map and motioned for Rune to join him.
The battle of wills ended, and Rune tore his eyes away to return to the table. The map of the underground was incomplete, but it didn't matter. The important parts were there.
“We've gotten most of them running,” Tobias said as he fished a box from the broad map table's drawer. He took a handful of colored glass stones from the box and laid them on a number of circles Rune recognized as lift locations. “Some better than others, but that's likely the best we can hope for. They're as old as Core, and who knows how old that is.”
“Might as well be as old as the world itself.” Rune touched a claw to one of the circles left unmarked. “This one?”
Tobias blinked at him. “How did you know?”
“Because it always gave me trouble.” There was a box of chalk in the drawer, too, if Rune remembered right. He searched for it with one hand while he studied the others. “It looks like almost all of the rest are operational. How long has this taken?”
“Her Majesty put a lot of effort into getting the ones related to mine function working in the first year of her rule.” The glass stones came in multiple colors, and Tobias rearranged them to color-code the lifts that had been working longest. The green stones gleamed in the soft light.
Rune studied their layout for a time, then nodded. “Makes sense. The more lifts working, the better the mine's production. Faster getting things in and out, at least.”
“Aye. Fast as we can, anyway. It would be better if we had an alternative to the hand carts. The deeper the mine shafts get, the harder it is to transport waste rock and ore.”
Two or three of the lifts that remained without stones were ones Rune knew he had examined. Studying the mechanics left by the Alda'anan—a people he hadn't known existed then—had been one of his favorite pastimes in his youth. Strange to think how they had influenced him, even then. “I have suggestions for that. Get me a paper?”
Before Tobias could take a step, the librarian appeared at his side with a sheaf of paper in hand. He laid it atop the map without a word and returned to the rolled maps to retrieve another.
Rune took the top sheet and gripped a piece of chalk between the first knuckles on his first two fingers. “I'm sure I don't need to explain the idea of a rail cart?” He sketched lightly at first, tracing hallways he recognized as mine shafts onto the new paper. Then he drew in rail paths and junctions, and sketched examples of what the rails at each junction might look like.
“I can guess what it means,” Tobias said. He craned his neck to study the illustration. “These levers would move the rail?”
“So the cart never has to be removed from them, yes. They'd allow you to switch the path the cart takes.” A drawing of the lever mechanism went down on the paper, followed by an example of what the cart itself might look like.
“They have these on the mainland?”
Rune rocked his free hand. “They're in development. Some of the mines in the northern parts of Roberian have begun to implement them, but mostly, Vicamros wants to use rail systems for transport of people and goods. We've been working on it for years, but there's been some opposition, so progress is slow.”
“We?” Tobias asked.
“A
group of scholars in the Royal City,” Rune said. “I enjoy working with them, when I can. They like building things and I'm good at breaking things, so we make a good team.”
Tobias snorted a laugh.
“Here are the diagrams showing how the known lifts operate,” the librarian put in as he laid a handful of rolls at the edge of the table. “Will anything else be needed, Your Highness?”
The chalk snapped between Rune's fingers. His eyes flashed to the librarian's face.
The grim older man merely raised a brow.
“No,” Rune managed after a moment. “That will do for now. Thank you.”
Tobias observed the two of them with a curious tilt to his head.
The librarian returned to his desk without further comment.
He'd recognized him. That much, Rune had hoped for, but the title had been completely unexpected.
He gazed after the old man, his brow furrowed.
“You're remembered most places,” Tobias said softly, as if reading his thoughts. Perhaps they were easy to guess. “In Core, you're remembered as a hero.”
“But you answer to Firal now,” Rune murmured.
Tobias inclined his head. “Aye. And that won't change. She's been good to us. Worked hard to make the Eldani accept us, see that we had value to offer. But if you ever decide to come back, well... there would be a place for you with the ruin-folk, I'm sure.”
How many times had he wished for exactly that? A chance to step back into his old life, to pick up where he'd left off? “I wish that were my choice to make.” Rune took a new piece of chalk from the box and resumed his drawing. “You'll need to make one of these. It's a hand-car. With a man on either side to work this arm, it'll roll much faster than a man on foot can push it. It's harder to move with a heavy load, but it'll still be faster than dragging handcarts up and down the tunnels.”
Tobias took the drawing when it was finished. “You design these with your mainland scholars?”
“Mostly, I damage them after they're built. But you learn how things work when you have them in pieces.” There was still the non-functioning lift to think of. Rune turned his attention to the rolled schematics the librarian had brought. He unrolled one and paused. “Where did you get these drawings?”
“Those? They were copied from a book the queen gave us. Why?”
Rune's brows knit. “I kept a journal of diagrams. I drew everything I found. These look like...”
“One of your drawings,” the librarian put in from across the room. “I was in charge of copying them from the original volume. The book is in the queen's possession, but if you wish to compare my work to the original, I am sure she would be willing to lend it to me for a time.”
“No, thank you.” Rune spread the paper atop the map that was already out. “I remember them. Here, Tobias. Did you replace this guide chain?”
The younger man nodded. “Aye. The broken one was a beast to remove, but one of the mages was able to thread it through the channel. She replaced it, too. One of the high-ranking Masters. But the new one doesn't seem to do anything.”
“Because there's a wheel inside this wall.” Rune tapped a claw against the diagram, right below the chain. “I think the teeth on it are broken, but I never did figure out how to get in there to replace it. A mage with an earth affinity might be able to find a way in.”
“Or maybe you could pay Core a visit, yourself,” Tobias said.
Rune lifted his head. There was something new in the other man's eyes, a soft, wistful sort of hope that made his stomach lurch. “No,” he said after a moment. “I don't... I don't think I can.”
The light in Tobias's eyes faded, but he was no more solemn than he had been through their whole conversation. “I understand, Lord Daemon. If you ever change your mind, though...”
“Of course,” Rune said, and left it at that. He moved the schematics and stared down at the map as Tobias placed a few more stones and explained where they might find more damaged mechanisms, but the words filtered through his head without understanding.
All his life, he'd sought to make a difference, to aid these people and help make his country whole. Now, he couldn't even aid them in the repair of a simple mechanical lift. Just like he could do nothing to meet Firal's demands.
He closed his eyes and pretended to be lost in thought as the mine's overseer droned on.
How long would the seal on his magic haunt him?
20
Conflicting messages
Smoke billowed from the hole in the wall. The stone itself sizzled, trailing to the floor in glowing rivulets to form molten puddles. The carpeting and furniture scorched around it, even as the glow faded and left rippled slabs of cooling stone in the middle of flickering flames.
Anaide stared in disbelief. The Master of Water had seen many things in her lifetime, but even Lomithrandel—abomination as he was—had never done anything like that.
“Now,” Envesi sighed as she eased back into her chair, “let's try to be more civil, shall we?”
Anaide paled, sank into her seat and gripped its arms to keep her hands from shaking. Her knuckles turned white with effort.
The shockwave of energy had missed her head by inches. Now that she'd seen its effect, she didn't think the monster across the parlor had been aiming for her. Envesi had too much control over her power for that. Even now, with all the force of the world at her fingertips, the woman managed to keep her too-blue eyes from glowing. Despite all his training, that was a trick Lomithrandel had never learned.
“As I was saying,” Envesi continued, inspecting her claws. She seemed fascinated by her new appearance, which made Anaide wonder how long it had been since she'd changed. If it was a recent development, then her control over her new and greater gift was even more frightening. It would only get better with time. “The king expects cooperation. If your new Archmage takes issue with that, she may speak of it with him.” She sneered as the title she used to hold rolled off her tongue. “It isn't my intention to incapacitate any mages. Every single one of you will be needed. Your value has not diminished, in spite of your wrongdoing against me.”
They had done no wrong. Everything said at the meeting that led to Envesi's exile had been true. Anger nettled at her, but Anaide only nodded. She didn't dare snap at the woman again.
“Where is the girl? Your acting Archmage?” Envesi asked.
Anaide hesitated and glanced around the parlor. Edagan was in charge of student exercises today, but the rest of the temple's council had been present. Only Shymin remained, her face a cautious mask of serenity. Where had Balen and Rikka gone? No; she couldn't let herself be distracted. Perhaps one of them had already managed to notify the queen. Or else they'd been captured by the league of rebel mages that came through the portal with Envesi.
The Master of Water wet her lips with her tongue. “Looking for the princess.”
Envesi raised a brow. “Is that so? Well, in that case we'd best let everyone know she's with her father. You, there.” She turned her head and beckoned Shymin closer.
The Master of Healing remained calm as she came closer, her thin hands clasped in front of her waist. She didn't have the same death grip Anaide had on her chair. The young woman's composure was admirable.
“Carry a message to your queen, letting her know her husband and child are in the temple. With me.” The corners of Envesi's mouth curled with a smile that was both amused and savage.
Shymin bowed her head in acknowledgment and turned to leave without a word. Silently, Anaide prayed the girl would squeeze as much information into the message as possible.
“Naturally, I will assume immediate control of the temple mages. We can't afford to waste time.” Envesi rubbed her claws together, smirking. “The king agrees that with magic's existence at stake, I will need every resource at my fingertips. Call your council together so we may decide our next course of action.”
“Of course.” Anaide faltered over the words, wishing she could remain as coll
ected as the Archmage's sister. Bless the girl; they'd made the right choice in raising her to Master of a House for certain.
Envesi nodded and waved her away. “Go on, then. Not a moment to spare. I'll be in my office.”
Anaide bowed her head, pushed herself up and hurried toward the door.
“Oh, and Anaide?”
She paused, turning back to the reptilian monster that lounged with her legs crossed.
Envesi's snake-slitted eyes narrowed. “I will be referred to by my title.”
Anaide swallowed against the thick dryness in her mouth and nodded. “Of course,” she said, though the words made her stomach turn. “Archmage.”
The air outside the Gating parlor still hummed with enough energy to make Kytenia's hair stand on end. She rounded the corner into the hallway and skidded to a stop with a yelp.
Rikka clapped a hand to her chest, her blue eyes wide and her cheeks flushed. “There you are!”
“What's happened?” Kytenia asked in a rush, then winced at her own lack of manners. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” Rikka stepped back and smoothed her white robes. She didn't look fine; she looked shaken to the core. “It's the king. And Firal's daughter. And the Archmage.”
Kytenia blinked. “Me?”
“No,” Rikka said, grimacing. “The other one.”
Her brow furrowed. “Arrick?”
“Envesi,” Rikka replied.
Kytenia should have been angry that Rikka used her title for the exiled woman, but she couldn't fault her. There was still a sense of awe that came with Envesi's presence, even without the free magic Rune warned her about. Envesi had been the first Archmage of Elenhiise and had held the title when Kytenia and Rikka were children. The woman had never been anything other than terrifying.
Kytenia hoped she didn't look as wan as she felt. “What has she done?” And what did it have to do with Vahn? The image of him at Envesi's mercy flashed through her head and turned her stomach. After so many years, she still felt something for him, though it had cooled to the sort of warm affection she felt for her siblings.
