Shin Galiana smiled at the scythesmiths’ enthusiasm for Shin Danis. She hoped her old student wouldn’t let it swell his head.
Danis’ voice was wary when he spoke again. “What brings you here, Shin Galiana? I thought you were busy with your endeavors in the north.”
“Those are the very endeavors that led me here, Pupa Danis. How long now until your promotion?” she asked dryly.
A subtle shift followed her question, and she could picture the man with his head down. “Another year at least, the Assembly has said.”
“Ah,” she replied, making her voice sound enthusiastic, “not so long then until you become an actual Ashishin. What word of Cantor and the Pathfinders?” Sometimes it did well to remind the young of their status.
“They arrived a few weeks after a great storm appeared from nothing. Then they hurried off again. Everyone felt the Forging. I suppose that was you?”
Shin Galiana left the question unanswered. It was good to let some think you accomplished acts beyond your own power. “Do you know which way they headed?”
“Rumor has it that they went searching for the others from Eldanhill. I overheard little, but it also appears they are visiting the Travelshafts.”
“What does Cantor know of the ones he’s searching for, besides me?” she asked.
“I do not know, Shin Galiana. I can only do so much as a Pupa. I do know he isn’t the only High One involved. As widespread as the appearance of shadelings have been, the Assembly has dispatched Pathfinders into several kingdoms.”
Galiana hardened her voice. “Useless information. Things of which I am already aware. Your skill attained you the position close to the Elder Assembly. Seeing your role here now, makes me question if they suspect you. I hope you have not fallen from their good graces.”
“No, no, Shin Galiana. I have still been able to read his reports. Some in the Assembly are suggesting that Raijin Irmina be tried and executed. They speak of treachery.”
Galiana frowned. “Where did the report originate?”
“Eldanhill.”
As she suspected, someone among the Eldanhill Council was under the Tribunal’s thumb. It would have to be so. Only they heard Irmina reveal herself as a Raijin. “Have any reports arrived since the storm?”
A moment of silence passed as the man on the other side of the wall sifted through whatever information he had gathered. “Yes, the last Pathfinder cohort dispatched went to Cahar.”
Ilumni shone on them after all. Cahar was well to the southwest, along the Azimuth Ocean. Her Matii would have evacuated months ago.
Yet, something else bothered her. “Why are there so many Pupae here, Danis? Why has the Tribunal ordered the crafting of so many divya? If the situation is so dire, why aren’t there any Ashishin set as guards?”
Danis took a deep breath. “Shin Galiana, the Tribunal has lost Castere. The Assembly ordered as many Pupae here who could imbue as they dared. They dispatched the remainder as well as all full Imbuers to Felan Mark. An army of at least sixty shadebanes recaptured every city we liberated beyond the Vallum.”
Sixty banes meant well over two hundred thousand shadelings and sixty full-fledged daemons. This force would be bigger than that of the Shadowbearer. She somehow managed not to gasp, schooling her face into a mask after the initial shock wore off. What were the chances all this happened the same time Ancel’s ability had emerged?
“Shin Galiana?”
“Ah, yes, Pupa Danis?”
“The Elder Assembly has awoken the zyphyls.”
This time she did gasp. “When?”
“A year ago.”
The only reason to wake the creatures would be to allow passage through the Travelshafts to anyone. It would explain how the Tribunal massed the numbers they had so quickly beyond the Vallum. She calmed herself before she replied. “How are they protecting the zyphyls and the Traveshafts?”
“A Dagodin cohort as well as Ashishin stationed at each entrance.”
“Pathfinders?”
“None, Shin Galiana. They are spread too thin. Between the recent Wraithwood manifestations this side of the Vallum, and protecting the Bastions, as well as those dispatched to the legions, there were none to spare for the Traveshafts.”
Galiana frowned. The numbers were off. All the Matii they’d trained plus what the Iluminus and Calisto provided on their own would be more than enough to manage all points. Why were they withholding forces? “Have there been any recent raids on the Travelshafts?”
“Over the last few weeks, yes,” Pupa Danis said. “The Svenzar struck several since the awakening.”
Galiana pondered her choices.
“Shin Galiana, you aren’t planning to use the shaft here are you?”
Pupa Danis had always been smart despite his slow development. She did not answer. “How many Shin did they leave at each shaft?”
“Twenty with each guard squad.”
“Ah. So why haven’t they approached me yet?”
“They had specific instructions from High Shin Cantor not to interfere with anyone accompanied by an Ashishin,” Danis said. “Besides which, many recognized you. Your reputation precedes you, Shin Galiana.”
“Oh? I’m sure many were not pleased.”
Danis gave a low chuckle. “Well, the others have reported whispers since you arrived.”
“About?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.
There was no immediate response.
“You may speak freely, Pupa.”
“That you disobeyed direct orders from the Assembly before you disappeared years ago. Some have even suggested that you are,” Danis paused again, obviously troubled, “a traitor”
Anger rose in Galiana, but she squashed it.
“You understand, Shin Galiana, even though I never knew, I still do not think that you … I, I know you are no traitor. But some of the others, because you were High … um, Nerian’s top advisor and-”
“Never mind that. Send word to Calisto to be ready. And inform Jerem we are on our way.” Galiana heard the footsteps of the scythesmith before Danis answered.
“Here is the kinai juice, Blessed Shin,” Alda said.
Severing the link, she left the way she came and returned to the Stoneman, her thoughts swirling all the way there. The Assembly had chosen drastic measures this time it seemed. Still, she needed to discover where they kept the Matii they withheld. With Danis not having discovered any deception by Cantor, then it may well be time for her to trust the High Shin. Jerem relied on him in the past, but she believed in precautions.
She reached the Stoneman amid those thoughts, checking on the young men first. Ancel and Mirza were asleep on two small beds, and Ryne stretched on the floor. Charra lay next to Ancel’s bed, one of his eyes opening lazily and closing after he saw her. Galiana turned to leave.
“Is everything fine?” Ryne’s deep voice rumbled. “Or do I need to wake them?”
She did not show her surprise. “No. Let them rest, and you too. We are leaving before noon. Be sure to restock our supplies.”
She did not wait for him to answer before she left, closing the door behind her. Sleep sang to her as she entered her room.
Chapter 39
Ryne lay on his back watching the sun filter through the curtains. Sleep had eluded him. Thoughts of Ancel kept him awake all night. The young man was more powerful than he could have imagined. His summoning of Etien was the first sign that indeed he might be the Aegis.
He shook his head. All these years, knowing the prophecy was a reflection of a dream from the zyphyls, and yet he had doubted if he would see part of it come to fruition.
Men chased fate and power. He’d watched as they did so, feeding off tidbits planted by those who believed in the Aegis, creating one kingdom after another, destroying one civilization after another. All in the name of destiny. The theory among the Eztezians was that man’s unquenchable thirst for power would inevitably lead to the Aegis.
What really was the Aegis? Not even he knew fo
r certain.. Damal had said it was destined to save and destroy the world at the same time, shield and kill the gods. As contradicting as it sounded, he understood. Opposing forces nullifying each other. Harmony.
All had seemed to go well with their plans until other Eztezians succumbed to the Skadwaz who led Amuni’s Children. That person tried every possible way to rid the world of anyone who might become the Aegis. The worst part was the inability to put a face or name to the enemy’s leader.
Ancel’s sword had almost been their undoing. It held power, Etchings to be exact-a requirement to weaken the seals and release Prima-but it was also a locator. One he’d relied on in hopes of finding a person who could wield the weapon when he believed the Dorns were dead. If not for Jenoah Amelie, or Galiana as she now called herself, he would have lost this battle long ago. She created replicas of the weapon through the Imbuers. When the one link to the sword changed into several hundred thousand, spread all across Denestia, he and Sakari stopped searching. Thank the gods for her plan. Otherwise, Ancel would not exist.
A sigh escaped his lips at how close his brethren had come to defeat. The boy’s life meant they had a chance, even if it did not nullify the Nine’s or Amuni’s chances. Better a sliver of hope than none at all.
Seven more Etchings for Ancel to hold the elements. At least if he were meant to possess them all. Three more to complete the Streams. Even now, he felt four of his brothers moving away from them. Somewhere far north, toward the Great Divide. In ways, it made sense. Prima would congregate at the prison, drawn to the Etchings Forged into the ruins within the Divide-the original Iluminus’ ruins.
He abruptly sat up. What better place to wait for the Eztezians? Ancel’s release of Prima might not only be for the benefit of those powerful enough to wield it in the Nine’s or Amuni’s service, but also a trap. But set by whom? Which faction? He tempered the urge to rush off and warn the others. More than anyone else, Ancel needed him to finish his training, but he also needed the other Eztezians. Torn, Ryne couldn’t decide if it was worth the risk to try warn them or to help them. To pursue either endeavor required planning and resources that might be beyond him. Better that though than the alternative of Ancel having to travel into the Nether or to Antonjur.
Ryne stood and attempted to gather his thoughts. He felt as if his mind had split into a hundred pieces, and the wind now rattling the window had swept them away. For the second time in recent memory, exhaustion crowded him, and unlike then, he hadn’t expended any effort to Forge. He gazed at the beds where Ancel and Mirza slept peacefully. So much rode on the young man’s shoulders, and there was no one to carry the weight for him. Ryne knew the feeling. He’d carried the same burden for countless years.
Not wanting to wake them, he picked up his sword belt from the bed and buckled it around his waist. At times like these, he missed Damal and the others. At least there would have been someone to talk to, a person who could relate. Now, all he had was loneliness.
‘The life we lead are not ones any sane man would envy. The same way order balances chaos, responsibility balances power.’ Damal’s words echoed in his head. Maybe that’s why we are destined to go mad, brother. Maybe that’s why our brothers are walking into an obvious trap. A chance to end it all after too many years languishing, struggling against the inevitable, against enemies from all sides. At the door, he paused to look back at Ancel and Mirza once again. They deserved more. The world deserved better.
When he left by the Stoneman’s upper entrance, he made his way toward the bridges. The wind swirled, bringing with it a chill and fresh air, while the sun’s rays coated the mountains and plateaus in golden swathes, yet its warmth didn’t reach the town. The few people on the streets hurried by, bundled up in furs and leathers, heads covered by their hooded cloaks. Those who noticed him gave a wide berth. Several wore leather armor in the Tribunal’s familiar crimson.
He stopped at the middle of one of the spans. Mists gathered below him, obscuring the other bridges with its inkiness. The folk traveling along them disappeared in its spirals like fleeting spirits. With the fog, the canyon walls spanned down into a void that appeared endless.
The yawning chasm below reminded him of the years spent mired in war. One war after the other. Not mere battles but conflicts that sometimes spanned centuries as well as several countries. Kingdoms rose, lived, and died, some to live again, others to remain dead. Great cities lay in ruins, their secrets, their people perishing with them. If he could count the dead, he was certain they numbered in the tens of millions. And even now, there was no end in sight.
The history of his many lives poured forth, and with it came bleakness. The memories settled on him as Nerian, and then Ryne before he regained his stolen consciousness. His heart ached. Someday he would have to kill Ryne Waldron and once again become Thanairen Adelfried. Today wasn’t that day.
Footsteps stopped next to him as a gust delivered scented soap. “When I see a man gazing over the edge of a precipice, I often wonder where his thoughts are.” Galiana’s voice sounded almost as weary as he felt.
“His thoughts ask if it was worth it. All the suffering, the pain, the struggles through the years. If he can manage to see it all to an end.”
“What conclusions has such a man come to?”
“He doesn’t know yet.” Ryne watched as his breath spiraled up from his mouth. “He’s done a lot of good and bad. Sometimes he thinks he’s done more bad than good. But there’s always been a purpose when his actions were his own. Now, he wonders if he is too late. If his years spent hiding, in denial of his power, of his responsibility, cost those he holds dearest. His own people.”
“Doesn’t his admission of his faults show his humility?”
Ryne sunk into himself. “Maybe, but the people need someone who will stand strong, undaunted in the face of what is to come.”
“Thanarien,” Galiana’s voice grew soft, “you have shown more strength than an army of thousands. Your perseverance has withstood the test of time.”
“And yet still I might fail.”
“Demand perseverance but first show determination. Demand pride after you show humility. Demand they overcome after you prevail.” She repeated each quote with a distinct air of belief. “I am surprised you forgot some of your brother’s foremost teachings.”
The words sparked memories, and as simple they were, he knew the truth within each. He’d lived the Disciplines all his life. “I have not forgotten, but there is only one of me. We face a battle with Ancel still unprepared. In Ilumni’s name, the entire world is unprepared. Whenever I receive news, it seems as if our enemies are ten steps ahead of me. My own brothers hate me. Even now, I sense them heading to probable doom. As much as I want to warn them, my duty lies here with him.” He faced her. “Have you ever had a wish to be able to split yourself in multiple parts?” She nodded. “Well that is how I feel right now. I am powerful and yet still powerless.”
“Frustrating isn’t it?” Despite her long leather cloak, the bottom of Galiana’s white dress billowed in the breeze.
“Too much so.”
“Tell me,” Galiana looked up to meet his gaze, “why would your fellow Eztezians hate you?”
Ryne paused as he considered not answering. Finally, he took a breath. “When we created the Great Divide, it served three purposes. To imprison the shadelings, trap our power within it, and seal the other Eztezians. We agreed that whichever among us was the most lucid would be the one to complete that last task. I was the youngest so it fell to me. Later, as Nerian, under control of Voliny’s master, I broke their seals and released our power back into the world before the Shadowbearer War. My weakness is the reason we face what we do. Now, they return to that fount of power, and I’m sure our enemies await them.” He’d expected some sense of shock from her.
Instead, the tightness around Galiana’s eyes and lips eased into tenderness. “You are so much like your brother. You place the world on your shoulders. A world that the Annendin creat
ed pantheons to manage its survival. Yet, you feel you should be able to do what they could not. These aren’t humans we face, Thanarien, but netherlings who managed to defeat the gods with their schemes, even if it is only a momentary victory in the scope of time. On the other hand, in the Skadwaz, we face a god’s creations who are at least as powerful as you.”
“And here I thought your intention was to make me feel better.”
Galiana smiled. “I am giving you some perspective that you seem to have lost. It will take a combined effort from all of us, the people included, as well as whatever else we can draw to our side.”
And still we may face defeat.
“Things may look impossible, but believing there is a way is better than the alternative.”
He sighed. “In many ways I wish the gods would free themselves already, and either declare their retribution or their protection. At the rate events are moving, no path exists where they aren’t freed.”
“I will tell you honestly,” Galiana said, “I never thought there to be any other way. You and I both know some things are beyond the hands of men. We play our part. That is all we can do.”
“Hoping it will be enough has become drearier over the centuries. Regardless of what we do now, not much is left besides ashes. Ashes and blood.”
“And hope. Remember you mentioned that first. All these years and never once did you give up. So why now? Why when you appear to have one of the most powerful Eztezians since Damal?”
Weariness dragged on Ryne, heavier than the sword at his hip, more persistent than the mists clinging below. “If this were a thousand years ago, and he had time to learn every nuance of his skills, maybe. But as you pointed out, we need everyone. To know four of them may die before the day of reckoning comes leaves much to be desired.”
“If fate had not proved to be nonexistent thing, I would say it was meant to be.” Galiana looked directly into his eyes, her expression solemn. “What if there might be a way to reach your brothers?”
Ryne perked up at the suggestion, but he had an inkling of what she might suggest. “With the presence of the vasumbrals, as well as the Pathfinders, Materialization is a terrible idea. Not to mention that one cannot Materialize from one side of the Vallum to the next.”
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