"I think I preferred it when you were calling me stupid."
"How do we figure things out?"
"Huh?"
"Yes, by grunting dully until someone takes pity on us and does it for us. That's one method. But let's pretend you're a person who respects themselves."
Blays tilted back his head, contemplating the late afternoon sky. "By beating it out of people for being too cryptic?"
"We reason," Dante said.
"How do we begin to reason?" Ara said
"Several ways. Extrapolating from personal experience. Abstracting out our thoughts. Observing repeated patterns of behavior or natural forces."
She stared at him levelly. "Let's start with personal experience. Do you suppose you can think of an experience you've had with the powers of the Odo Sein?"
"Several." He felt the blood rushing to his face. "Like the one we just had twenty minutes ago."
"Do you need me to keep holding your hand? Or are you ready to take a step on your own?"
"We don't know how you do what you do. But we've seen its results. Normally, the nether's like water. It flows easily, because that's its nature. But when the Odo Sein is applied to it, it becomes icy. Like it's frozen in place. And you can't move it."
"Are you sure that's true?"
"Yes. I suppose. For me. Gladdic, how did you experience it?"
"Similarly," the old priest said. "With the ether as well. Typically, one is able to bring it forth the same way that one might open the shutter in a dark farmhouse, allowing the light to spill forth upon the interior. Beneath the oppression of the Odo Sein, I can still see the light outside, but it no longer shines through the open window, and the house remains dark."
Blays shifted his weight on his knees. "Normally if I try really really hard, I can make a little piece of nether do something that may or may not resemble what I want it to do. But when your knights are around, I don't even get the chance to fail, because the nether just sits there. It reminds me of the early parts of my training, when I'd learned to see the nether, but still hadn't figured out how to touch it."
"That points us to the general mechanism," Dante said. "We all agree the shadows and the light are still there. The Odo Sein isn't taking them away. It makes them inert." He lifted his eyebrows at Ara. "Are we supposed to be able to reason this out further?"
"If I tell you no, is that because it's true? Or because your belief will make it true?" Ara smoothed her robes over her thighs. "When it comes to learning, most people cripple themselves by running to their teachers for help the instant things get hard. Yet if you train yourself right, you can reason your way forward far more often than you'd think, using far less hard knowledge and evidence than you'd believe possible. Getting good at that process is vital. If you try to rely on me for all your answers, you're never going to reach them."
Dante, Gladdic, and Blays fell into a longer conversation about how they'd encountered the Knights of Odo Sein during earlier conflicts, specifically when they'd freed Naran from the Blue Tower, and then the confused battle at the Wound. As they spoke, Volo wriggled around on her mat like a dog seeking to bed down in the grass. Dante didn't feel as though they were making much headway, but they'd at least confirmed that the experience had always been the same: one of being unable to reach the locked-down shadows.
Ara hadn't been paying much attention to them until the conversation petered out to half-hearted rehashes of things they'd already rehashed twice before. Annoyed disappointment grew on her face with each moment.
When she couldn't stand it any longer, she stood, knocking the grass from her robe. "You're slowing down like you've been hulled. Try this. Look out there, into the desert. You see it?"
Blays shielded his eyes with the blade of his hand, peering into the streaked black hills that started just feet away from where they were kneeling. "You mean the freaky-looking stuff surrounding the Spires for thirty miles on all sides? I'm having to squint pretty hard here, but I think I've got it."
"Today, it's nothing but naked rock. But that wasn't always so. A long time ago, the desert was a forest."
"Where the Yosein lived," Dante said. "Before the White Lich came. Their only way to stop him from destroying them was to destroy their homeland instead."
"A simple version of the facts, but I suppose that's the best I can hope from you. It's true, though, that people lived here. Animals, wild and domestic. Trees. The whole land thrived with life of all kinds. I want you to look out there and I want you to imagine what it was like."
"Then what?"
"Quit worrying about the then before you've even started the now. You've been whining that I wasn't giving you any instructions, and now that I'm trying to give you a lesson, you can't even do what you're told?"
"I'm sorry, Bel Ara."
"You can apologize to me by doing your damn job. Gods, teachers always make the worst students."
Dante inhaled and exhaled, clearing his mind in the same way he emptied it for the arrival of the ether. He stared out into the field of jagged rock. It looked unreal, like a glimpse from a hellscape inversion of the Mists. A layman might think it was impossible that such a place could once have been a bountiful forest. But Dante had seen other places time had changed just as much. Plains into mountains, forests into deserts. The only reason the earth looked eternal was because a person's span upon it was so brief.
His first thought of how this place had once looked was the pine forests surrounding Narashtovik, with their towering rough trunks and the carpets of slippery needles on the forest floor. But this was obviously wrong: it had to have been closer to the great leafy forests of Mallon, although probably different from those as well, as it often snowed in Mallon, and he wasn't sure that it ever did in Tanar Atain.
The jungles of the Plagued Islands, then? With their flowering vines, thickets of bamboo, and lush trees? He thought that might be closer, at least. Then again, the Yosein and their forests had ceased to exist something like a thousand years ago. Had the trees and flowers back then even looked like the ones that existed today? From what he'd pieced together, the people from that time period were nothing like the ones that were here now. Did everything change over time? Or were birches always birches and bears were always bears, and specific groups of people were the only ones that didn't last?
The sun tilted westward. As it went, the wind picked up, driving at them in uncertain bursts. As Dante contemplated what type of forest might have covered the area, he kept a general awareness of the nether to see if this little exercise was affecting it, but it looked perfectly normal. It wasn't long before his mind started to wander, first to what the purpose of this exercise might be, and then to ways to stop the White Lich.
He looked up and saw that Ara was gone. The winds were now gusting as if enraged, blowing in every speck of dust from the rocky wasteland, stinging their faces and eyes. A servant arrived, his face masked with an almost translucent piece of fabric stretched over a small wicker frame. He indicated they should follow him back to the Tower of Three, which Ara commanded, or stewarded, or however it was that the Voices considered themselves to govern.
The tower door was solid iron covered in symbols that resembled the runes of the Riya Lase. Dante had the immediate suspicion that there was a layer of iron within the walls as well, built to keep out or (more likely) at least slow down the lich.
The foyer's ceilings were fifteen feet high, the semicircular space filled with the mats, low tables, and glasswork typical of most of the nicer residences and establishments elsewhere in the country. Ara had been speaking with another servant.
Seeing them, she motioned the servant to depart. "Did any revelations come to you from out of the desert?"
"That depends," Blays said. "Does two tons of dust count as a revelation?"
Gladdic's lower eyelids were sagging with exhaustion. "How long might it take us before we are able to command the power of the Odo Sein?"
"You're asking me to guess when you, a pers
on I'd never met before today, is going to be able to learn a skill you might not ever learn?"
"If you are able, yes."
"I'm not. It takes as long as it takes."
"But will it be soon enough to stand against the Eiden Rane before it's too late?"
"How should I know?" She jerked her thumb at the staircase. "If these are the best questions you've got, we're done here. Go get some dinner. Some sleep. Whatever it takes to make you worth teaching."
After that rather demoralizing speech, they were led upstairs to simple stone chambers furnished with rugs and tapestries, where they were fed bread—having not eaten any since entering Aris Osis, Dante hadn't realized how much he'd missed it—stewed beans in a thick, salty sauce, and fruit tarts that tasted both sweet and sour.
The staff removed their dishes as soon as they were finished. One remained to show them about their rooms, finishing at the doorway, where he indicated a chain hanging from a hole in the wall.
"The room should not be left. If assistance is required, pull this chain."
Blays gave an experimental tug of the small brass links. "What's it do?"
"A bell is rung. A servant is summoned."
"A fellow is thanked for the explanation."
The servant gave him a blank look and left. Their beds were the typical wicker frames that could be secured against the wall by day. Dante rolled onto his thin mattress and was immediately so weary that he wasn't sure he could get up again.
Blays blew out the candle—which was neither tallow or beeswax, and smelled like a variety of stout, shiny plant they'd seen here and there in the swamps—and shuffled across the dark room to his bed.
"We're sure this isn't a prank of some kind?" Blays climbed onto his mattress. "The other Odo Sein had to go through this as well?"
"Why don't we ask them and find out?" Dante said. "Oh wait, there aren't any left, which is exactly why we have to go through this in the first place."
Dante typically woke up a few times during the night, but on that occasion, he didn't stir until a servant swung open the door just before the sun broke from the horizon. Dante had slept for a good ten hours, but felt almost drunkenly groggy, and his legs and back were so sore from the long march the day before that he was obliged to soothe his aches with nether on his way to the privy.
Breakfast was flatbread stuffed with potatoes and beans. There were few spices to speak of, just a bit of salt and herbs. It was immensely different from the heavily spiced fish, root mash, bananas, and rice they ate in the swamps. Did the people of the Spires cling so fiercely to the idea of Tanarian culture because they understood that they weren't truly a part of it?
After eating, Ara arrived to lead them back to the boundary between the forest of the Spires and the bleakness of the Hell-Painted Hills, where she instructed them to think about the lost forest once more. Within an hour, everyone but Gladdic was fidgeting. A little after that, Blays began to snore.
Ara cursed and rolled her eyes. She gave Blays a shove. "Wake up, you idiot. If you want to sleep the day away, you can do that back in the swamps."
Blays rubbed his eyes. "I wasn't doing a very good job imagining the old place by myself. I thought dreaming about it might help."
"Are you being serious?"
"That depends. Will believing in what I said get me out of trouble?"
She got up and walked back to the seven towers.
"Well done," Dante said. "Next time, try killing yourself. You can tell her that you thought you could imagine the forest better from within the Mists."
Blays got up, planting his palms on the small of his back and stretching backwards. "If I have to spend one more minute imagining a bunch of stupid trees that died a thousand years ago, I will kill myself. What are we even doing? How is this going to teach us to nullify sorcery?"
"I don't know. But given that Ara is one of the only seven people authorized to teach the Odo Sein, I'm going to go out on a limb and assume she knows what she's doing."
"I'd rather endure the training at Pocket Cove again."
"Didn't they try to drown you? Make you die of exposure?"
"Exactly."
Ara didn't come back until after they'd been brought their lunch, another meal of stuffed flatbread. She directed them to continue envisioning the forest. They obeyed dutifully.
"I imagine you're growing so bored you're thinking about killing yourself," she said after another hour. "First of all, that would be stupid. The smart play would be to kill me. Second, since repeated failure is toxic to the will to go on, and you don't seem to be able to do anything but fail, let's try a new course. Take up your foul magics."
Dante reached out to the nether. Blays made a clumsy swipe at it while Gladdic summoned a perfect pattern of light. Without so much as a twitch, Ara locked the two talents in place. Dante gave a peremptory tug at the shadows.
Ara lifted her hand, palm up. "See that?"
"The part where you made three extremely dangerous people look like sad children?" Dante said. "Yes, I might have noticed."
"But did you watch it?"
"I didn't know that it was coming."
"Do you take that same mindset to a sword fight? Or when you're dueling one of the other warlocks?"
"Of course not. That's a fight for my life."
Ara laughed mockingly. "You're working to combat the Eiden Rane, and you don't think it's a fight for your survival? Your life is on the line every second of your training. And so is mine. And so is the life of everyone in this country. When you're with me, you watch and you listen. Always. Do you understand?"
Dante nodded, keeping any bristle out of his voice. "What was I supposed to see?"
"Watch again. And tell me."
She ordered them to draw on their abilities again. Just as before, she slammed down on them, sealing the ether and the nether as firmly as the world's own skin.
Dante glanced at Gladdic and Blays. They shrugged and shook their heads. Ara repeated the process a third time, then a fourth and a fifth.
She scratched her armpit. "See anything yet?"
"You're locking it down," Dante said. "If there's more to be seen, I'm missing it."
"Then maybe you should look harder. Or would you rather go back to imagining the forest?"
"Please no." Blays covered his heart with one hand, extending the other for mercy. "At least have us imagine a hot springs. Somewhere people might like to bathe. I guarantee you I'll be able to describe it to you in perfect detail."
Ara snorted, but seemed at least half amused. "We'll try a few more. But like I said, too much failure in too little time turns bold men into timid children."
Yet Dante got nothing out of the next few attempts, either. Ara had them contemplate the Hills some more while she thought—or pretended that she was thinking while she was actually punishing them for their stupidity—then snapped her fingers.
"I'm stopping you from accessing your unholy magics," she said. "But there are ways for you to slip past me. You're going to try."
Dante bit his lip.
If Blays had similar thoughts of discretion, he promptly ignored them. "I suppose it's too much to ask how we might do that?"
Ara didn't bother to respond. She motioned for them to summon their powers. They complied and she once more froze the light and shadows in place. Dante bull-rushed toward the nether, meaning to batter right through whatever she was doing, but it was like running full tilt into a wall. Sensing that was a dead end, he retreated, whispering to the nether with all the subtlety he could summon.
He thought he sensed a quiver. But as soon as he turned toward it, it went as still as the rest of it. No amount of wheedling could get it to twitch again. Ara gave no sign she'd seen anything move at all.
Blays begged off five minutes later, his powers exhausted. Gladdic and Dante persisted for a good while longer, getting to a whole lot of nowhere. With the day running short, Ara stopped their practice, told them to imagine the forest, and walked away.
When dusk fell, the servant arrived to bring them to dinner. Blays clapped his hands. "At last, something I'm good at."
Dante barely tasted his food, lost in contemplation of what Ara had attempted to show them so far. Was the business about imagining the lost forest merely a thought exercise to push them into the correct mindset to be able to see whatever it was that Ara was attempting to show them? Or was it an important exercise in its own right?
Furthermore, if she was serious that there was still a way to reach the nether when the Odo Sein was opposing you, then wasn't it possible that, even if they learned the skill themselves, the White Lich would still be able to muster his sorcery against them?
He didn't say anything of this latter doubt. Yet he would have bet everything he owned that Gladdic had already arrived at the same question.
The third day followed the same schedule as the second. Dante shouldered on the best he could. Volo couldn't access either the nether or ether and spent nearly the entire day gazing out into the fiery wastes. Blays managed the occasional joke or jocular complaint. While Gladdic smirked more and more as the day wore on, Dante thought it had little to do with Blays' efforts, and more to do with the old man's growing conviction that they were doomed to fail, squandering their final days on nonsensical lessons while the White Lich continued his inexorable advance from the depths of the swamps.
It was both cruel and merciful that every day had to end eventually. That day was no exception. As they parted ways, Ara didn't even bother to insult them. She just shook her head and headed to her tower.
If anyone said a word at dinner, Dante didn't hear it. They retired to their quarters.
Blays tossed a mat against the wall and sat on it with a heavy thump. "Here's an unpleasant question. How long do we stick around here getting nowhere until we cut our losses and move on?"
Dante unfolded his bed from its ties. "To what? Admitting we were wrong and asking the lich for jobs in his new empire?"
"I told you it was going to be unpleasant."
"I wonder if we aren't meant to learn a thing," Gladdic said. "Perhaps the Odo Sein are toying with us. Teaching us nonsense until we grow so frustrated we leave of our own accord."
The Light of Life Page 23
