Chapter 30

Shavala accompanied the group that went back into the mountain, but peeled away when they reached the palace. She wanted to pay another visit to the room with the glowing mushrooms and moths, to take notes on the unusual lifeforms for her book.

When she got there, though, she discovered to her dismay that the moths were lethargic, hardly showing any interest in the mage-light lantern she carried. Most didn’t even leave their perches.

She set the lantern down so she could slip a finger underneath one of the creatures, lifting it off of the mushroom where it had been resting. Examining it with her elder senses, she didn’t notice anything wrong, but it was difficult to learn anything useful about insects that way, especially unfamiliar ones. She brought her hand back down to the mushroom and let the moth climb off her finger.

The light from the lantern had hidden the luminescent glow, giving her a good closeup view of the mushroom cap. It was wrinkled. Glancing around the room, she realized they all were. They’d been smooth the day before, but now they were wilting, drying out.

It must have been the staff that had kept the enclosed ecosystem alive, and without it, the strange room couldn’t continue as it was. If she didn’t return the staff to its spot, something unique and special would be destroyed. But if she left it, what would stop someone else from coming along and taking it?

Maybe there was another way. Most of the visions the staff had shown her followed a similar theme—restoring plant life or creating a new environment for it. The staff had already built this environment on its own. Could she find a way to make it permanent?

With her elder senses, she delved deep into the mushrooms, the lichens, and the mosses, following them into the earth. She knew now, somehow, that the soil hadn’t been present in the room originally. The first plants had grown from nothing, and then died and decomposed, thus supporting future generations.

The soil was nearly self-sustaining at this point, but there was no source of water in the room. Was it the staff itself that provided the moisture that allowed everything to live?

The visions hadn’t given any indication of how the staff did what it did, or how the bearers had controlled it. Or even if they had controlled it.

Shavala examined it with her elder senses. It felt like a normal tershaya scaffold branch, but small enough that it was either from a young tree or near the top of an old one. The bark and lateral branches had been removed by someone who knew what they were doing, leaving the wood uneven but smooth. The collar—the larger knobby end of the branch, where it had been removed from the tree—had been carefully harvested to keep the wood alive even as it dried out and hardened. Tershaya wood could be easily shaped while it was fresh, and the hardened form would remain sturdy for hundreds of years afterward even if the wood was dead. If the wood remained alive, it could last indefinitely.

The staff didn’t offer any clues, so she returned her attention to the room. Perhaps she could handle the problem on her own. Moisture could be pulled from the air, and, in fact, that’s where it seemed to be coming from. Was there a source she could use to ensure it remained there? Some hidden drip of water she’d missed before? If so, she still couldn’t find it.

Could she cast a spell to duplicate what the staff had been doing? She couldn’t stay here to maintain it, but what if she could cause an ongoing reaction, like the wind magic Sarette had taught her? Of course, that had only lasted for moments, and here she needed something that would endure for years. It seemed unlikely to work, but perhaps the staff had already set everything up, and she could just reactivate it.

She pulled moisture from the corridor outside the room, increasing the humidity inside. That wouldn’t be enough. She stretched farther, but not too far. Too dry and the mushrooms would continue to wilt; too humid and the moths wouldn’t be able to fly. And even if she came up with the right balance, how could she ensure it would stay that way after she was gone?

There was a sudden pulling sensation, as if control of the spell was being wrested away from her. It was like using her elder senses while another druid was nearby, manipulating the elements she was sensing. A new spell was being crafted, but she could only follow a small part of it. The elder magic she’d started with was still present, but it was mixed in with something else that she didn’t recognize.

The two magics writhed and roiled in her mind, simultaneously fighting with and complementing each other. They battled to a standstill, a balance that would keep the moisture at its previous level. Somehow Shavala knew it wouldn’t last forever—the room wasn’t sustainable on its own—but it would last for a long while. When the time was right, she could return to check on it again.

“Thank you,” she told the staff. It couldn’t understand her, but it felt appropriate to say.

She left the room and closed the door behind her, then went to find the others.

Ellerie had to agree with Bobo’s assessment—the chambers at the northwest corner of the palace could only have been the royal quarters. They were the largest residential quarters in the palace, and the remnants of the furnishings suggested the rooms had been well appointed at one time.

She peered into a partly collapsed wooden wardrobe. None of the clothing remained, but the layer of grime caking the bottom suggested something had been left in there when the place was abandoned. A stone-like nodule lay half embedded in the detritus. Ellerie picked it up and wiped off the dirt, revealing a rounded button made of gold.

She handed it to Marco, who was examining the two figurines Bobo had mentioned. They rested on a small oval table, with the shards of the other figurines scattered nearby.

“Here,” she said. “There are probably more buttons if you want to dig for them.”

“I’m more interested in these at the moment,” the factor said, lifting the owl statuette.

“Leave those,” Corec said as he passed by. “You can come back for them another time. I need you to help carry some other things out today.”

Marco frowned but returned the figurine to its place. He was always more reluctant to argue with Corec than with Ellerie.

Bobo showed the group to the locked door at the rear of the chambers, another of the round doors on rails. Corec touched the metal plate, and was then able to roll the door to the right.

Behind it was a small alcove divided into two sections. On the left side, a suit of dull, brownish-gray plate armor hung in place on an armor stand. Behind it, three weapons lay horizontally on a rack. The top two were longswords, one bejeweled and ornate, still in a scabbard made of a silvery metal with gold filigree, while the other was plain and unadorned. Its own scabbard appeared to have deteriorated, but there were metal bands still hanging from the blade, showing that there had once been one. The third weapon was some kind of long-handled sledgehammer made from the same dull metal as the armor.

The right side of the alcove was different. A permanent mage light, like those near the animal statues, hung from the ceiling. Instead of an armor stand, there was a clothing stand with simulated shoulders and torso, for clothing that was too delicate to store any other way without losing its shape. Ellerie had once used similar stands to hold her robes of state. A few wisps of cloth still dangled from it, but when she tried to touch one of the pieces, it fell apart in her hand.

There was a shelf set against the wall, and on it was a small jewelry stand displaying an intricate platinum necklace set with dozens of small, pale blue diamonds and darker blue sapphires. Ellerie had seen plenty of extravagant jewelry during her time in Terevas, but the only necklace she’d ever seen that surpassed this one was a piece her mother had commissioned for her own coronation.

But the necklace didn’t hold Ellerie’s attention. Right next to it were two books. She carefully ran her finger along the spine of the nearest, hoping it wouldn’t disintegrate. It seemed to be intact. She quickly cast a spell, and under her arcane sight, the two books glowed with an enchantment similar to a preservation warding, the same warding many wizards used to protect their spell books.

She opened the first one and thumbed through it, releasing her arcane sight so she could see the pages better. It really was a spell book, but the preamble notes for each spell were written in the Ancient tongue, so she couldn’t read them to learn what the spells did. She’d need more time to decipher it.

The second book had a title written across the front, which was unusual for spell books. Opening it, instead of spells, she found page after page of notes in cramped handwriting, intermixed with symbols, numbers, and formulae. At the very end, she finally found pages written in the wizard language, but there were fewer spells than she’d expected.

She passed the book to Bobo. “Can you read that?” she asked him, showing him the cover.

“Hmm, foundational? No. Fundamental Materials, I think.”

“What does it mean?”

Bobo flipped through the first few pages. “Your guess is as good as mine. I don’t recognize half these words. Are they even words?” He stopped on a page. “Wait, I’ve seen this symbol before. It’s an abbreviation that’s sometimes used for iron. Do all these symbols refer to different metals or minerals?”

“I don’t know. Will you help me translate it? The parts that aren’t spells, I mean?”

“Certainly.” Then he chuckled. “I’d always hoped to find books or writings that had somehow survived, but now that we found one of the people themselves, a book is almost a letdown.”

“She’s not very talkative so far,” Ellerie reminded him. “The books may be more informative.”

“Are these warded?” Corec asked from behind them.

Ellerie turned around. Corec’s eyes had gone dark from his own arcane sight, and he was staring at the armor and weapons. She cast her spell again to see what he was looking at, and found that the hammer and the suit of armor both glowed with complex enchantments.

“Yes, they are,” she said.

“Do you think they’re safe to touch?”

Ellerie looked them over carefully. She’d been trying to teach herself what the different types of wards looked like, but it was difficult without access to the wizardry archive in the Glass Palace. She’d learned as much as she could from the warding spells in her own spell book and the partial book she’d purchased in Tyrsall, and from examining Corec’s sword, but there were a lot of different warding spells and she didn’t know them all.

“The ward on the armor looks dangerous,” she said. “I think you should leave it there. I don’t think the hammer will hurt you.”

“It’s a maul,” he replied. “They’re useful for dealing with heavy armor, but I’ve never seen anyone actually use one before. Warhammers and pole weapons are more practical.”

“Why would they layer so many enchantments on a weapon that’s not used very much? It looks as complicated as your sword.”

“Maybe they were more common back then,” he said, grasping the long handle in both hands and lifting. “It’s heavier than I thought it would be. It’s got to be close to thirty pounds. I don’t think anyone could swing this in the middle of a fight. It would throw you off balance.”

A humming sound came out of nowhere, and then the weapon began glowing with a faint yellow light. Sparks swirled around Corec’s hands and then up his arms before disappearing.

“Bloody hell,” he said, letting go of the weapon. It fell to the floor with a clang, and the light and the sparks slowly faded away. “Is it another bonded weapon?”

“I don’t know how to tell,” Ellerie said. “Did Hildra show you?”

“I didn’t think to ask. Bobo, can you pick it up?”

Bobo frowned. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

“It didn’t hurt me. I just don’t want to deal with it if it’s anything like the sword.”

“I’ll try,” Boktar offered. He’d been crowding around the door with Marco and Nedley. He nudged Bobo out of the way and lifted the maul. “Oof, that’s more than thirty pounds.” It started humming and glowing again, and then more yellow sparks streaked from the head of the weapon to where Corec was standing. Straining, Boktar said, “It’s getting heavier. I can’t carry it anymore.” He set it back down.

“Why did it... ?” Corec said, looking down at his hands as the sparks faded away again. He picked up the hammer by its handle. “It feels the same as before.” He ignored the lights as they started up for a third time.

“It must be like your sword, too heavy for anyone else to carry,” Ellerie said. “You’ll have to haul it out.”

“Maybe some other time.” He placed the maul back on its stand. “I still need to stop by the armory before we head back.”

Marco had slipped into the room and was examining the necklace. He started to reach for it, then stopped. “Is this safe?” he asked.

“It’s not enchanted,” Ellerie said. “It looks expensive, though.”

“If the gems are real, yes,” he said, slipping the necklace into his coat pocket.

It pained Ellerie to see another piece of art removed from the city, but she didn’t say anything. If she wanted to convince Varsin and the other investors to agree to her plan, they would first need to make a solid profit on the expedition.

Marco reached for the bejeweled sword, but Corec stopped him.

“You’re going to need your hands free for real weapons, remember? Not gaudy junk.”

“Leonis, welcome back to Fort Northtower. I trust you have good news?” Rusol had chosen his words carefully to make it clear he was an equal. Descendant or not, he had no intention of being subservient to the other man.

“Right to the point, I see,” Leonis replied. “You seem to be in a better mood now than you were the last time we met.”

“I’ll admit, your plan came as quite a shock. I needed some time to consider it.”

“And you’re in agreement?”

“I am,” Rusol said. “Have the other wardens decided to participate?” What he really wanted to know was whether Leonis had spoken to the First.

“Emperor Kono declined the invitation, and I don’t know if my message ever reached the stoneborn woman. The First prefers not to travel, but he’s agreed to take part through the dream. He sent a message, of sorts, requesting a dream meeting with any participants a week from now. I’m not sure why he didn’t reach out directly, but it’s the first time he’s responded in years, so we need to make use of it.”

A week. One week until the First would tell Leonis that Rusol was demonborn. The plan was already in motion, but Rusol wished there was more time to prepare. With just one week to go, it had to happen as soon as possible. It was a pity he’d only be able to target a single warden, but perhaps it was better—safer—this way. With fewer targets, there was less of a chance of something going wrong.

“I can remain here for a week. Any longer than that may be difficult.” Best not to seem too eager. “I do have duties back in Telfort, of course. But, since we’re here, we should make use of the time. The priests have invited us to dine with the order tonight, but perhaps tomorrow we can have a private meal to discuss other ways in which Larso and Blue Vale can support each other. Just the two of us and our bondmates. Living in Telfort, it’s not often I get a chance to speak freely.”