But no, Ceinwyn bee-lined straight to a wall.
Weird. Usually she was the one observing me, this time I observed her. “By the way,” I even pushed further and tried to get a reaction, “We ain’t telling the Lady about any of this, right?”
Still distracted by one of the objects on the wall, her head tilted at an angle, she only answered after a long silence, “If I’m to train you and to see my recognition of you spread, then the Lady will need to be informed. However, perhaps it’s best if we hedge about any thieving from the Guild and ignore completely the bit about . . . your special place.”
“My special place?” I laughed. “Can’t even bring yourself to call it the Geo Realm? Want me to take you back so you can remember how real it is?”
Still didn’t turn toward me, still had her head cocked almost sideways. Reminded me of Annie B, who had the same mannerism. Guess Annie did help raise her, wouldn’t be too odd if a gesture or two slipped through with all that nurturing. “I suppose we’ll have to leave the same way, but I can’t face it yet. So please don’t. Not for a few more hours,” Ceinwyn eventually said, before asking, “Do you think you can find me a pencil and some paper?”
“Suppose so. Massey has a desk up on the third floor I can pilfer. Why though?”
“Because my Ancient Greek isn’t quite as good as when Nii-Vah taught it to me and I’ll need the paper to work my way through it,” she muttered as she stepped up to a massive tablet of dark stone. Wasn’t a whole tablet, just the face of it, like it had been cleaved from the rest and preserved in glass. Kind of thing I could see only geomancers pulling off without ending up with a pile of useless dust. “This was supposed to be destroyed . . .”
“What is—”
“Paper or paper-cut,” she interrupted.
“I have a World-Breaker on me still,” I tried to sound tough, like her paper-cut threats didn’t work anymore.
Finally, I had her attention. Ageless eyes cut into my soul. “Just because you knew something I did not, just because you’ve won a few arguments and I’ve decided to throw my life behind yours in an attempt to save your future, just because I care for you, you little shit, does not mean we’re equal when it comes to the Mancy. To say nothing of many other areas of expertise.”
“Auntie Badass so, so butthurt that ‘ittle King Henry showed her up for the first time,” I teased her.
“Paper! Now!” she yelled, giving me one of her eye-see-you signs.
Grinning, I went up the stairs one by one to find some paper.
Also snagged a few books from random shelves just to keep me occupied during however long Ceinwyn’s translating would take. Ancient Greek? The black stone tablet didn’t look like it was a single language. The Greek had to be on the right and next to it looked like Egyptian hieroglyphics. Two more languages took up the second half of the tablet. Wasn’t a small piece of rock, towering over even Ceinwyn’s six feet. I probably walked by it a dozen times without glancing at it twice.
How many people know Ancient Greek nowadays?
Suppose regular Today Greeks might get some of the gist, if not all of it. Couldn’t be many people who could translate flawlessly, unless you’re a PhD . . . or grew up the ward of a Divine who actually lived when they spoke it. Though from what I can tell, it sounds like Nii-Vah mostly hung out in China.
By the time I returned with the paper, Ceinwyn had taken one of the artifacts off its pedestal and placed it on the ground, moving said pedestal over by the tablet so she would have something to write on. I blinked at the artifact in horror. “Please tell me you were careful with the—” I read the display name. “—Oh . . . were careful with the Word of Moses.”
“It’s fine,” she mumbled, grabbing the paper and pencil as she squinted up at the very top of the tablet.
“We’ve been very careful about not touching anything . . .”
“I’ll put it back where I found it, Dad; now, shush.”
“She just shushed me,” I grumbled to myself as Ceinwyn pointedly ignored everything except her task. “And she called me ‘dad.’ Therapy, so much therapy. Seriously . . . introduce a woman to her first Black Elf, show her a whole new world, and she shushes me so she can spend time with a big ol’ black . . . rock. Ain’t fair.”
I sat down beside the displaced stone artifact, tried not to think about what the supposed word of god could do to us, and opened up the first book I’d picked out. I didn’t have the phone this time around, having left it with Val last night. Was no time to talk or prepare before grabbing Ceinwyn. Hadn’t even gotten word from Val about if T-Bone downloaded all the pictures. Or what Pocket and Jesus were up to today. Probably still alive or she’d have broken the news to me.
Still alive . . . get out, boys, get out while you can.
Me, felt like I should get out too, wanting to defy Fate by being here or not.
Yeah, might be my last night, I realized. Bonding time with Auntie Badass. If I wanted to suck the Guild dry I could’ve spent weeks—if not months—searching through it all, of course. Hated leaving anything, letting it go back to being forgotten, but would one more night even matter much? Maybe I’ll just come in here myself tomorrow night . . . say goodbye to it all, tidy up. No more Ceinwyn Dale distracting me. Ceinwyn Dale . . . in her nightwear . . . with a long leg peeking out of her silk robe . . . decoding Ancient Greek with a pencil and paper . . . Word of Moses at her feet, feet that were covered in dirt from my dirtboard. You know you’ve spent too much time in the Crazy when a Black Elf ain’t even the most interesting part of your night.
Also know you’ve spent too much time in the Crazy when Ceinwyn Dale decoding Ancient Greek ain’t even the weirdest part of your week.
This new relationship with Auntie Badass as a fellow Maximus would take some getting used to. I’m a fucking Glassbreaker, you believe that shit? The Purifier is my girlfriend, double believe that shit? People say I’m a cynic, but sometimes I just feel like a disappointed optimist. This is one of those times. Part of me had really expected my life to be easier after I knew all I’d just learned. Expectations . . . again. On the other side of the fall and my life didn’t feel one bit easier.
More complicated.
More vampires to worry about.
Bigger and badder vampires to worry about.
Other stuff too.
Stuff even more psychologically fucked than the part that wants Ceinwyn to hate me for not telling her about Paine. Part that likes being whipped and beaten and bleeding on its momma’s good tableware.
Psychological shit like the fact that ever since I arrived at the Asylum I’d been an Ultra. Sure, was First Tier Ultra and sure, as an Artificer that’s just about the most, if not the second most valuable mancer discipline to be a part of. Case in point to that value: the giant vault Artificers built to hold all their toys . . . not a Transformer or a GI Joe in sight. But like I said when I found the Vault, I never really felt the prestige of being an Artificer. Going it alone made me feel anything but prestigious. Spurned the Guild, couldn’t make showoff fireballs, only dirt to work with and steel to break. None of that ever put me above the other Ultras. Was the same as T-Bone or Pocket or Welf or . . . all of them. All those kids I went to school with. Thirty kids a year, in it together.
Only . . . nah.
Something even rarer.
Only thirteen of us on the whole planet.
Confirmed.
One of thirteen . . . don’t know if I like that.
Don’t like elitism.
Didn’t like the way Ultras could push around Intras . . . way we got all the best teachers just because. Ain’t much meritocracy in the elemental world and what is there, is illusion . . . now, there was even less illusion than I suspected before.
So many secrets uncovered . . . don’t know how to react.
So many secrets that I don’t know if I’ve left even more undiscovered.
Maybe once the hearing was over and I got back to the shop, maybe then it would feel mor
e real. Or the Asylum . . . since Ceinwyn would want to train me there. In whatever she wanted to train me. Paine did say there were other skills I don’t know about, maybe that’s it. Or maybe she just wants to give me the official techniques on extended pooling. Something like that probably . . .
If I did have to go to the Asylum for a while, then I suppose it would mean putting the shop on hold. Hated that idea, but couldn’t see a way around it. Especially since I’m the only Artificer working at it and all that. Could end up with the truth, end up beating Massey’s Artificial Court and still the Guild might get itself a win out of this. King Henry Price out of action for months. Better only be months or I might riot. Could be worse, of course. If I lost to Massey, if he proved his point of my malfeasance too well . . .
“So about my hearing . . . what does me being a Maximus do for it?” I asked, thinking maybe I wouldn’t just have to rely on what Pocket or Jesus found out in Seattle now.
“Hmm?” Ceinwyn asked, still preoccupied by the funny looking letters.
“If you recognize me as the Glassbreaker . . . can we just tell Massey and make him eat his skullcap, or what?”
“Being a Maximus doesn’t give you diplomatic immunity,” she muttered. “However, it does gives us more political leverage. Also, I’ll remind you now so you never forget it: we are not allowed to talk about being a Maximus in public. There are very unfortunate consequences for doing so, ones you’ll very much dislike. Even being recognized, well . . . I suppose that’s a conversation for later. As far as Alexander, it will need to be a private meeting. Likely after your public testimony, but before the Guild votes. Yes, that way when we tell him, he’ll know we could have done so sooner, which would have made him look like a fool. But by doing it later and giving him the out, he saves face . . . that could work.”
“Shit . . . you mean I’m back to lying to people again?”
“Most people. You can talk about it with me and Valentine.”
“And T-Bone and Pocket and Jesus,” I added.
“Technically no . . . but we’ll just keep your little troublemaking team away from the Lady for now, why don’t we? Less paperwork that way . . .”
“Not lying to my friends. Don’t do it anymore. Made a sacred vow.”
Ceinwyn finally glanced away from the black stone tablet to give me a look that spoke to the levels of shit I was full of.
“It makes my tum-tum hurt.”
“If they find out you’re breaking those laws, they could always return you to the Pit,” she reminded.
“Nothing changed there.”
I put down Artifacts of the Nile Pharaohs and picked up a book called Report on New World Anima Concentrations of Sufficient Intelligence to Have Preexisted Human Crossing of the Bering Land Bridge. First one had a better title, but was light on actual facts; second one was skinny, but mentioned a few fairies I didn’t know about. Although Meteyos was included, it wasn’t by that name, instead just as his title: The Killer of Fools. He had a very high danger rating and the author of the report urged avoiding him. Wish I could. The water fairy of the Mississippi I’d once met on the other hand, Sipponnii, had a helpful rating, with a note about a number of drowning people she had saved by pushing them to shore.
Wonder how fairies and dragons and people like the Sawaephim are all connected? Mancers too for that matter. All had to do with anima somehow. Except for vampires . . . parasites as Meteyos calls them. Wonder what the story was there . . . Don’t believe Amarusa’s bullshit at all, but how did she twist it for their benefit? For that matter, how is Meteyos twisting it for his benefit too?
“So Nii-Vah knew about all this, but she’s lied to you your whole life,” I blurted out a stray thought. “Must sting . . .”
“Thank you, King Henry, I really needed more help while trying to process that difficult truth,” Ceinwyn sarcasmed me upside the face.
“Totally here to help,” I declared before picking up the third book. The Outlawed Art of Chimera Experimentation.
Books to never let Jesus read: 1.
“So what did you think of Poug?” I eventually asked, trying to sound as innocent as King Henry Price can sound.
“No,” was all Ceinwyn said.
“Come on . . . you get to do it to me all the time. Hey, you remember when he made you blush? Cuz I always will.”
“Did you like it when I was forced to break you and Valentine up?”
“I’m not breaking you up; I’m getting you the first Sawaephim-human date in ten thousand years.”
“And how would we date being from completely different worlds?”
“So it’s just a location thing . . . I know what that’s like.”
“Shut up, King Henry.”
“I could always bring him to Earth . . . show the Learning Council he’s not a devouring evil set on killing all humans . . . let him speak at the United Nations or something.”
“Maybe the worse idea in the history of bad ideas,” her sarcasm reached new levels.
“Come on . . . it’s better than the ShamWow!”
“This reminds me of your first day at the school,” Ceinwyn whispered, now down near the bottom of the tablet. So much had been translated that she’d flipped over the piece of paper.
“You bribed me with the newspaper cartoons, wasn’t it? Or maybe the sports page? Feels like forever.”
“You were fourteen . . . and much smaller. Arguably less trouble though.”
“Remember you had on a robe just like that one . . .” A paper-cut slashed across the back of my hand. It hurt, but I managed not to yelp. “Really?”
She glanced down at me, ageless eyes and ever present smile both laughing. “I know what you were remembering.”
Spent a moment sucking on the blood that dripped from the wound. “I’m a Maximus, you know. So are you. Very undignified behavior.”
“Better behavior than yours and Valentine’s if Poug is to be believed.”
“I told her I loved her . . . natural shit resulted.”
“Do you really, King Henry?” Or did you just parrot it because mundanes think it’s what we’re supposed to say? went unasked, but I heard it anyway.
“Yeah. Made sure I do . . . that’s why it took so long. Why it was so difficult. One of the main problems I been thinking about these last six months. And stealing from the Guild, and making up with you, and fucking over Massey.”
“Oh, is that all?”
“No . . . something else too, but we’ll leave it for another day. Day we finally do all the political sausage-making. Wouldn’t want to distract you from all that translating you’re doing. Hopefully of something important and not just like . . . how to design a codpiece for a Black Elf or something.”
“I don’t think he was wearing a codpiece.”
“That mean you looked in a codpiece’s general direction?” I couldn’t help but tease her.
“You are not hooking me up. Especially with another species . . . no matter how pretty he is.”
“Was Amis pretty?” I dared to ask.
Ceinwyn’s smile got soft. “No . . . he was a short and very hairy French-Canadian. He should’ve been born in the 1700s and been a fur trapper . . . he would’ve liked hiking through your Geo Realm, though maybe not the lack of birds.”
“What about Obadiah Paine?”
Silence.
“Okay, never mind,” I said with a sigh. She’s gonna paper-cut my balls off. Maybe I can tell her in the Pit . . . or the Geo Realm . . . if I have a World-Breaker while I’m in the Geo Realm, with all of Poug’s templar buddies backing me up, where Ceinwyn can’t use the Mancy . . . I might, just maybe, be able to live through telling her about the Curator being Obadiah Paine.
Ceinwyn finally put her pencil down. “Well . . . this was unexpected.”
“What is it then? Reminds me of the Rosetta Stone.”
“Exactly like the Rosetta Stone,” she agreed, “except it’s much older. Ancient Greek, Ancient Egyptian, Sumerian, and . . .
something from before humans are supposed to have been able to write or record history. Likely from one or two thousand years after the supposed Great Elemental War if I had to guess.”
“Is that what you call it? The Great Elemental War?”
“What else would you call it?”
“Dragons versus Vampires.”
“No,” she told me again, I’d lost count on how many times tonight.
“Mine would sell more tickets.”
She ignored me and kept talking about the tablet. “We’ve known about this tablet, but it was believed destroyed—along with many of Rome’s other treasures when the Western Empire fell. Julius Caesar was said to have found it while in Ptolemaic Egypt. He returned with his prize, showed it off to other Roman mancers as a mystery, but never allowed it to be deciphered.”
“That ain’t all he came back with from Egypt, if you know what I mean . . .”
Annoyed silence.
“I’ve seen her shell, she wasn’t all that.”
“Some men value a woman’s intelligence and wit.”
“Like the fact they can translate Ancient Greek? So sexy, you just can’t imagine.”
“We thought it lost,” Ceinwyn repeated while rolling her eyes at my platitudes, “but some Roman geomancer must have been wise enough to deface the full stone and flee with this piece. I wonder what else the Guild has hidden in here that they’ve been lying to the Learning Council about . . .”
“Excalibur?”
“We know about that . . . it’s just a stupid sword.”
“Don’t let Val hear you say that or she won’t ever talk to you again. But onto something far more important than phallus shaped weapons: what does the tablet say?”
Ceinwyn handed over her translation, a number of the words circled. “Those aren’t Ancient Greek, but proper names. You’ll notice one is familiar, I assume the others to be their equals. I’d hoped it would be about the war itself . . . or the peace, or how the prisons were created with the Mancy, but no . . . it’s just a lament for what was lost. For Atlas and its ‘thirteen gates of elemental stone’ and the many peoples who will never again walk it’s ‘broad, sweeping avenues.’”
The Pit of No Return (The King Henry Tapes Book 6) Page 45
