The Floating City - Chapter 22

The First Goodbye

 Rika was having trouble sleeping. It had started soon after they had escaped from the Crystalis mines, and she and Simon were tasked with tending to Isa’s wounds and the odd effects that exposure to Fòrsa caused. Except, Simon was also the group’s point man, so much of the burden of care fell upon Rika’s narrow shoulders. Not that she begrudged it, Rika would always be there for Isa, but Rika was the one she called for in the night. And so Rika slept lightly now, and some nights she hardly slept at all.

She had just dozed off, when a murmur from Isa caught her ear. Instantly, she was awake again, lying in the darkness and listening. There was another, louder murmur from Isa, followed by the sound of bedcovers shifting. Quickly and quietly, Rika extricated herself from her pallet on the floor and stood up. Blinking back sleep, she stepped over her bed to Isa’s much more comfortable bed. Normally, they would have shared it, but you only had to be awakened in the face by an elbow so many times before a bed on the floor looked surprisingly comfortable. Murmuring soothing words, she placed a hand on her friend’s forehead. “Oh Isa,” she sighed. It was another fever dream. Ever since the incident in Crystalis, they had been happening more and more frequently. Isa never seemed that sick when she was awake, but her nights were spent sweating and burning, and often seeing visions. Of what the visions were, Rika was not sure, for Isa rarely remembered them and was reluctant to talk about them when she did. Still, the best thing was to wake Isa up before night terrors took her and she woke up everyone else.

Rika reached out and shook Isa’s shoulder, “Isa, Wake up!” She kept her voice low, but insistent. There was no response from Isa, so she shook her again, harder, and repeated her command. 

Again, Isa didn’t respond, but seemed to sink deeper into her dream. Her eyelids flickered rapidly and her limbs began to thrash, throwing off the covers. A small whimper escaped her mouth.

She is not just sleeping, Rika thought, grimacing. If Isa was this far gone into her dream state, there was only one thing left to do. With a sigh, Rika raised her hand eye, and slapped her friend across the face as hard as she could.

Isa reacted before she even woke up, punching her fist out aggressively. Rika avoided it with the ease of long practice, slipping to the side and trapping the arm so Isa could not hit her with her elbow on the follow-through. Once had been enough to remember that. Rika waited, and soon enough Isa’s eyes opened and she sat up, rubbing her cheek. “Alos, Rika, we have to find a better way to do this.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I bet you don’t,” Isa was still rubbing her cheek. “That hurt.”

Rika softened, “I am sorry, but it is the only way to wake you up. Would you prefer to be still having a nightmare? Was it the plain again?”

“No,” Isa said, “and yes. It is always the same thing. I am standing on an empty, featureless plain, as a pair of glowing… somethings approach,” she looked up at the rough-hewn ceiling and sighed. “I am so sick of this. It was manageable when it was only every once and awhile, but it is the same dream every night now.”

“I know,” Rika gave her hug and held her close. “But at least it only happens once a night. You can go back to sleep now.”

“For now,” Isa muttered.

Rika chose to ignore her. “And maybe Roshan’s plan will work out.”

Isa snorted. “When has that ever been the case? He just wants to use me as an experiment again.”

“You know that is not true. We are all here for you, and we will find a cure.”

“I will settle for an explanation, by this point.”

Rika squeezed her tight. “That too. Now stop feeling sorry for yourself and get back to sleep.”

“Yes ma’am,” Isa’s smile was still shakey, but Rika would take it. Isa lay back down, and shut her eyes. Rika stayed next to her, loath to return to her bed on the floor. They lay in silence for a few moments, and then Isa spoke. “Rika?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Rika replied, and held Isa close. Eventually, they both drifted off to sleep.

**************

Roshan paused outside of Rika’s and Isa’s door, feeling awkward. What if they were not awake yet? He knew they had not been sleeping well, although both women had been evasive about why, and he did not want to wake them if he could avoid it. However, if Isa’s situation was as worrisome as Rika kept saying, then it would be wise to waste as little time as possible.

He had finally tracked down the Don, and after explaining what they knew of Isa’s situation, was granted use of the Foinse-rod with surprisingly little argument. Despite his plan for the Foinse-rod being what Alistair had wanted all along, Roshan had expected him to be reluctant to give up the rod. The Don had asked several probing questions about how Roshan planned to modify the Foinse-rod to drain Fòrsic energy, questions that Roshan answered only with great reluctance. He agreed with both Syd and Rika that honesty was the best policy, but once knowledge of his glyph sequence was out, he would no longer be able to choose how it was used. The more time before that happened the better, as far as he was concerned, and detailing his plans to one of the world’s most accomplished Fòrsic Theorists was not in service of that desire. Still, he had the stone, and he had not divulged all of the sequence. Small victories, he supposed.

All the Don had asked of him in exchange for the Foinse-rod was that he bring it back it one piece and that he get to observe the treatment. Considering that the man had been showing an intense, and, Roshan felt, predatory, interest in his research the past several five-days, this was definitely getting off lightly. It made him nervous, like an itch between his shoulder-blades that he was unable to reach. He had to press forward, however, and, shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Roshan reached out and knocked.

Silence. He knocked again. “Rika and Isa, are you in there? It’s Roshan,” he listened for a response.  He looked at Eithne, next to him. “Do you think they are still asleep?”

“No, listen.”

Roshan listened. He thought he heard a giggle, an echo of muffled laughter. He reddened, but before he could say anything else, Rika said from beyond the door, “What is it?”

“It’s Roshan,” he repeated. “The Don has given us permission,” he did not want to be yelling about the Foinse-rod in the corridor, even if the other, adjacent rooms belonged to Syd, Simon, and Trentor. Better to keep it vague.

“Just a moment,” Rika had clearly understood what he meant anyway, because the door was yanked open soon after. Her face was flushed, and she was tucking her shirt into her pantaloons. Behind her, Roshan could see Isa looking on with a smug look on her face. She was already dressed, in stout wool trousers, and a heavier looking shirt. Despite it being the start of spring, the air was still chilled, and he knew Isa hated the cold.

“Are you both ready?” He said, raising an eyebrow.

Rika’s flush deepened, but otherwise ignored him. Isa winked. “You mean, ready to be a laboratory experiment again?” she asked “I suppose I am.”

“Well, it is a little more involved than just being an experiment. But hopefully it would be for the last time.”

“You make it sound so inviting.”

“But…”

Eithne cut him off, rolling her eyes. “I swear, Roshan, sometimes you seem to forget what tact is.”

“I was just answering the question,” he said, feeling chastened.

“It is all right,” Rika clapped him on the shoulder, “Isa does not know what tact is, either.”

“Hey!”

“Look,” Roshan interjected. “I thought you said this was serious, and urgent.”

“Yes, sorry,” Rika said.

“So, are you ready? We have a bit of a climb ahead of us.”

“A climb?” Isa said. “Aren’t we going back to the library?”

“The Don did not want us to damage the books,” Roshan shrugged, “He insisted that we do it at my lab.”

Isa shivered, “That does not make me feel better, either.”

“I am sure it will be all right,” Rika turned to reassure her. Then, she looked back at Roshan. “Where is your lab?”

“In a cave up on the hillside,” He smiled.  “Bring your cloaks and walking shoes.”

“A cave?” Isa frowned. “Sounds cold and damp.”

“It is much better than it sounds. According to the villagers, the Don used to use it for meditation. And besides,” Eithne hefted the wicker basket she was carrying, “I brought food. We can have a picnic!”

************

“I don’t feel much like having a picnic anymore,” Isa said, two hours later. She was covered in mud, and her teeth could be heard chattering faintly.

“We can eat inside,” Rika said, studying her with a look of concern.

“I am sorry,” Roshan said, reaching the pair and pulling Eithne up to stand next to him. “I had not considered the affect the snow melt would have on the trail,” it had been much easier to climb up here in the winter, when the snow had provided purchase. With the coming of Spring, the trail had been more a mud slide than anything else, one they had to tumble up to reach the rise that denoted the cave mouth that led to his laboratory.

“It is fine,” Eithne said, puffing. “We are here now, and the food survived,” she looked at the basket, which was dripping as much mud as the rest of them. “We might have to clean it off though.”

“There is a spring inside,” Roshan said, and strode, or more accurately, squelched, up to the entrance. He was not looking forward to the return trip. “We can wash up and start a fire,” but as he pushed open the door, he felt warmth on his face. “That is odd,” he said.

 “What is it?” Rika was behind him.

“Someone appears to have beaten us here.”

“Who else comes up here?” Isa asked, shifting into a guard stance.

Before Roshan could answer, a hearty voice came from inside. “Come in!” The voice commanded. “You are letting out all the warm air,” Roshan’s heart sank. He recognized the voice.

Evidently he was not the only one. “It’s the Don!” Eithne said, excited.

“Really?” Isa said, “What is he doing here?” The three women pushed past him and into the cave’s antechamber, leaving Roshan to close the door. He did so grumpily. He had thought that he had time to prepare everything before the Don arrived to observe, and was not pleased to find him already here. He followed after the trio in glum silence.

“Take off your cloaks and shoes in the anteroom,” the Don said. He was seated in the main chamber in a cushy looking armchair, in front of a blazing fire. Roshan had sat there himself on many a cold winter’s day, and had even spent some time investigating the cunningly designed flue that carried the smoke up and away, releasing it further up the mountains. Seeing the Don sitting there smugly raised his hackles, and his jealously, although rationally this was the Don’s hidden cavern, to do with as he pleased.

The women were busily divesting themselves of their outer-wear, and Roshan hastened to follow suit, trying to repress his feelings about the other man’s presence. He was not entirely successful. As Rika and Isa moved into the main chamber, and began chatting with the Don, Eithne stayed behind. She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it encouragingly. “Don’t worry. It will all work out. You said he wanted to observe, and so here he is.”

“I know, it’s just…”

“I know. It feels like his is invading your space. You do not have to be such a male about it though. Remember, this is his space too.”

“Thank you,” Roshan swallowed his ire. “I will be fine.” Eithne was just trying to help, and she was not completely wrong, either. But he just could not shake the feeling that she was not completely right, either.

Following on Eithne’s heels, he stepped into the chamber. The fire did feel nice, he was glad of that, at least. “I did not expect you to beat us here, sir,” he said, mustering a smile.

Alistair Gaunt grinned, and waved his hand at their mud-spattered faces. Roshan could not help but notice that he was dirt free. “Forgot about the snow melt, did you? I took a… dryer route.”

“Would have been nice to know about that route ahead of time,” Isa groused.

“Nonsense! Exertion builds character, my dear girl,” his smile was broad.

Roshan suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

Alistair turned to Roshan, “Now, what do you need to set up?”

He thought for a moment, “Um, just the foinse-rod and some chalk, Sir. Some paint too.”

“No other crystals or acids? How will you etch the symbols you need?”

Roshan looked around the room and shrugged. “Most of my notes are here already. And the main reason to etch glyphs is to improve the efficiency of the crystal, but that does not matter with the Foinse-rod. Paint and chalk will do for our purposes.”

“How interesting,” the Don steepled his fingers. “Those implications of the Foinse-rod’s energy had not occurred to me. I hope you do not mind if I observe the set up.”

“Not a problem, Sir,” Roshan said through teeth that were only a little gritted.    

Eithne caught his mood anyway. “What do you need from us?” She said, changing the subject.

Before Roshan could respond, Isa looked down at the splattering of mud all over her, “if you are going to be experimenting on me again, shouldn’t I get cleaned up?”

“We should all clean up, for that matter” Rika said, “I, for one, am tired of being wet and covered in dirt.”

Roshan nodded, “You are both right. Why don’t all three of you go and wash up, while I prepare the Foinse-rod.”

“A great plan,” Alistair pointed towards a door on the other side of the chamber. “The washroom is through there. The basin is fed by snow melt. It is a quite ingenious system, if I do say so myself.”

Well, you did build it, Roshan thought, but refrained from saying aloud.

“Works for me,” Rika said.

“Me too,” Isa said, and she and Rika headed off through the doorway.

Eithne followed on their heels, but paused to look back at Roshan. “Are you sure that you do not need help?”

“I will be fine,” Roshan smiled at her. She gave him a sharp look, but turned and followed the other two without further comment.

A yelp came from further down the hall. “It’s FREEZING!” Roshan heard Isa yell.

“Don’t be a baby, it is not so bad,” came Rika’s quick response.

Almost a bell later, all five of them, including the Don, were ensconced in the experiment Chamber where Roshan had spent a better part of the winter. It felt comfortable, familiar, down to the same Fòrsic symbols etched into the stones of the room. They were there to guard against excessive discharges of Fòrsic energy, and he knew from experience that they worked. Force of habit made him check them anyway, but he didn’t think he needed to make any adjustments.

While the women had gotten washed up, Roshan had accepted the Foinse-rod from Alistair, and had sat cross-legged in the center of the room with his notes spread out before him. The Foinse-rod was a narrow rod about a foot long, with around the diameter of a closed fist, and he had a very complicated glyph set to inscribe upon it. With such a small surface area, etching the runes might make more sense, but he still hoped to use it for its original purpose, and so it wouldn’t do to make any permanent marks. He would do it the hard way.

And so he had sat, the top of his tongue protruding in concentration as he meticulously painted on the energy draining runes with a narrow brush. All the while the Don watched, but said nothing. By the end, all three women were watching as well, also in silence, until Roshan finally put the Foinse-rod down with a sigh. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, “Well, that’s that.” He looked up at the faces surrounding him. “Are you all ready?”

“I’m ready for this to be over with,” said Isa.

“Hear Hear,” Rika smiled.

They arranged themselves in the small experiment chamber. Isa was in the center of the room, inside the etched wards on the floor. She wore white robes similar to the previous days test, but her arms were bare. Everyone else stood outside the circle, their backs to the walls. Rika and Eithne stood closer to the back, while Roshan knelt across from them, near the entrance, with the Don a pace behind him.

“Fascinating,” the Don was peering over Roshan’s shoulder at the Foinse-rod. “So the rod now drains Fòrsic energy?”

“Yes. Although only through touch. I had to limit it because we do not know how Isa’s… infection, is related to Fòrsa. Since I could not isolate her particular flavor of energy…”

“You had to limit the pickup to avoid putting out the lights,” the Don interrupted. He pointed towards a peculiar looping rune on the bottom part of the rod, “I do not recognize this one, what is it for?”

“It dissipates the energy gathered into the air. The foinse-rod appears to have endless Fòrsic energy, but I do not know what happens if you put more into it.” Roshan shrugged, “better safe than sorry.”

“Interesting, interesting.”

“Can you two stop with the questions so we can get this done?” Isa rubbed her arms, Roshan could see goosebumps. “I’m freezing here.”

“Merely pursuing my academic interests, my dear. I do apologize,” the Don waved Roshan forward, “by all means, proceed.”

Roshan stepped forward, “Let’s get started, then,” he said, addressing Isa. “How this works is I will press the rod to the crystals in your arm. The rod will absorb the Fòrsic infection, theoretically allowing them to heal naturally.”

“Theoretically?”

“Would you have preferred I said, ‘hopefully’?”

Isa thought for a moment. “No, continue.”

Roshan stepped forward and knelt next to her. He shook out his wrist, activating the runes on the Foinse-rod. They shone with a colorful mix of gold, silver, and bronze, overlaid onto the shimmering white of the Foinse-rod. Roshan took Isa’s hand in his, it was hot, despite her goosebumps. According to Rika, the Fòrsic infection caused fever and chills in addition to its other more metaphysical effects. He caught Rika’s eye, and she nodded at him. It was time. Moving with deliberation, Roshan lowered the Foinse-stone and touched it to Isa’s arm.

The effect was instantaneous. The glow from the rod shot up the network of crystals in Isa’s arm, filling the room with light. Isa screamed, her head thrown backwards and her back arched in a spasm. Roshan tried to pull the rod away, but it would not budge.

“Stop it!” Rika yelled, starting forward.

“I can’t!” Roshan tugged again on the rod, but to no avail.

Meanwhile, the glow that suffused Isa’s arms was slowly receding, drawing back towards the rod that now seemed fused to her wrist. Isa had stopped screaming, but her back still bent at an unnatural angle, her mouth drawn into a rictus grin. Rika and Eithne rushed into the circle. The three of them grasped the foinse-rod and yanked. Roshan felt like he was pulling on an iron bar, one securely welded in place, but together they managed to pry the foinse-rod loose. Energy crackled in the slowly growing gap between the rod and Isa, and Roshan knew that if they stopped straining it would snap back into place. Finally, an apparent limit was reached, and the force pulling on the rod ceased. The sudden loss of pressure unbalanced Rika, Eithne, and Roshan, sending them sprawling to floor. Roshan lost his grip on the foinse-stone on the way down, and looked up from the ground in surprise to see it hovering in mid-air.

“What in the…” was all he had time to say before a jet of bronze light erupted from the base of the rod and slammed into the cavern ceiling. As the rocks tumbled down, his last conscious act was to throw himself over Eithne and Rika, before an errant stone struck the side of his head, and Roshan surrendered to oblivion.

Chapter 23 is here.

The Floating City - Chapter 21

The Odd Experiment

Roshan heard a bang, followed by loud cheering audible even in the hush of the Alsce library. It had been three days since the arrival of Rika, Isa, and the others of Syd’s crew, and the celebrations had never stopped. First it was to honor the opening of the mountain passes, then for Syd presenting the Don with the Foinse-rod. Roshan didn’t know if most of the villagers and other Resistance members understood the import of that, but they knew a victory had been won over the Prime and that was enough to continue the party. He wasn’t sure what the festivities today were in honor of, maybe people had just forgotten how to be sober.

“Can I go to the party now?” Isa asked. She was sitting cross-legged in the center of a ring of Fòrsic symbols, wearing a pure white robe and her customary headscarf. Her arms were bare, their Fòrsic traceries glowing gently against the dark background of her skin. She looked grumpy.

“No,” said Roshan. “Not until we run some tests.” The ring was as secure as he could make it. He’d learned a few things about handling Fòrsic energies safely in his time in Alsce, and he was putting them to use.

“You agreed to this, you know,” said Rika.

“I wouldn’t have, if I had known it would take this long.”

 “Do you want to be blown up? Because not taking precautions here is how you get blown up.”

“Hush,” Eithne said. “Let the man work.”

Roshan gave her a grateful smile. Isa made a gagging motion, and Rika rolled her eyes. Surveying his handiwork, Roshan nodded and wiped his chalky hands on his trousers. He arose from his squat and stretched, his back popping. “Alright, I think we are ready.”

“Are you sure you know what you are doing?” Isa said.

Roshan shrugged, “it would not be an experiment if I did.”

“Forgive me if I do not find that at all comforting.”

He smiled, “Do not worry, the theory is sound.”

“That is not very comforting, either.”

“It is very simple, the healing crystal Rika used channeled Earth based Fòrsa with a physical affect. When it rebounded, it resulted in an Earthquake. Same energy, same affect, very different effect. So, if we use a crystal with a different Fòrsa base and a different type effect, but the same thing happens...” he trailed off.

“We have already gone over the theory behind it,” Rika said. “I think what Isa is worried about is what the after effect will be.”

“And what you are channeling at me in the first place,” Isa added.

“Oh, sorry,” he held up a small crystal. “It is my lucky crystal, got me out of Eolas safely. It is water energy and mind affect, it brings sleep.”

“You are not putting me to sleep,” Isa said.

“No water energy,” Eithne said at the same time. “Not in the library. No fire either, for that matter.”

“Fine fine,” Roshan thought for a second, and then rummaged through his pockets. He came up with another, equally small crystal. “How about this one? It is air and spiritual. It is very minor, it just gives you a feeling of contentment.”

“Been feeling down, Roshan?” Rika asked.

“Ah, well,” he dug his toe in the ground and looked down.

“Oh, Roshan, you should have told me!” Eithne put her arm around him. He leaned into it and sighed.

Rika clapped him on the shoulder. “We’re back now, so things are looking up, right?” She looked at Isa.

Isa nodded. “We’ll pick up the slack. Now, I say let’s get this over with.”

“Alright,” Roshan said, nodding. It did feel good to have his two friends back again. He had never had a lot of them, and the ones he did have he treasured. He still missed Aki, and he hoped she was all right. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he stepped forward. He held up the crystal, “are you ready?”

“What did I just say?”

He smiled and handed the crystal to her. “Hold it close to your chest, close your eyes, and breathe out onto it slowly.”

Isa did as he had instructed, and the crystal began to shine with a warm, golden glow. The effect was almost instantaneous. Isa had enough time to smile widely and say “it’s working” before the tenor of the glow changed. The color of the stone changed to a harsh metallic sheen, and Isa’s eyes snapped open.

There was no pupil or Iris. Instead the glowed a brilliant gold, bright enough to light up the room. “Get the stone away from her!” Rika yelled. Roshan darted forward, but stopped suddenly as Isa spoke.

“THE STONES FAIL,” her tone was flat, lifeless, but her voice filled the space of the library with a stentorian hugeness.

“er, what?” Roshan said into the silence that followed Isa’s pronouncement.

Her glowing eyes turned on him. He found the effect to be very unsettling. “THE STONES FAIL,” Isa repeated, and then said a third time. “THE STONES FAIL. THE ROCK FALLS. THE BEGINNING IS IN THE END,” her body seemed to rise into the air. Against his better instincts Roshan stepped forward, but as he did the glow in her eyes abruptly stopped. Isa’s eyes rolled upwards and she collapsed toward the floor in a dead faint.

Surprising himself, Roshan caught her before she hit the ground and lowered her down gently. Rika and Eithne were at his side moments later.

“What in the Two Moons was that?” Eithne asked, her eyes wild.

 Rika said nothing, but her mouth was thin line and her brows were furrowed. She knelt down next to Isa’s prone form and put her ear to Isa’s face, and then to her chest. “She is still breathing and her heart is still beating, but look at her arms!” She pulled Isa’s robe over to reveal that the Fòrsic scarring had reached her shoulders, and loops and whirls were starting to grow inwards towards her chest. “I knew we should not have been experimenting,” she said, wiping at her eyes.

Roshan put what he hopped was a comforting hand on her shoulder, “we had to know. Now we can find a way to make it better.”

Rika turned on him. “And what did we find out, exactly? Other than some strange words at the cost of risking her life?”

“Sorry, I just thought…”

“You should have thought harder!” Rika paused, there was a short, brittle silence, and then she gave a long sigh. “I am sorry. I feel like I have been on edge for months now.”

Eithne gave her a quick hug. “We will figure it out. What the three of us do not know about Fòrsic theory and Fòrsic history is not worth knowing.”

“Thanks.”

“Did we learn anything, though?” She said to Roshan. “What happened to her?”

“I really have no idea. Some sort of prophecy?”

“I thought those were just in stories?”

“Using the spiritual affect is still not very well understood,” he shrugged. “I suppose some sort of glimpse into the future could be possible…”

“Or contact with a higher power.” Rika said.

Roshan turned to her, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“Her voice did not sound like her own, maybe it was something speaking through her?” She shrugged.

Roshan nodded, “it did sound very strange.”

Eithne tapped her fingers, thinking. “We pray to, and swear by, the two moons, Alos and Dar-Alos. I had never considered them as beings who took an interest in us, however.”

“Maybe something has changed?” Rika said.

“I am not a theologian, I am a theorist,” Roshan declared. “I do not know if gods exist, but I do think that I can do something about Isa,” he looked down at the prone woman, “is she still out?”

Rika checked her vitals again, as she did, Isa made a snorting noise. Rika laughed, “I think she is asleep.”

“Are you sure?” Eithne asked.

“I would know that dumb snore anywhere,” Rika said. “I have heard it whistling in my ears on far too many nights.”

“Good, then we have some time.”

“How can you possibly think you have a solution?” Rika said.

“For the last few months I have done nothing but study Fòrsic energy transference. If energy in causes a reaction, what happens when we take energy out?”

“You think we have not thought of that?”

Roshan shrugged. “Why didn’t you try it?”

Rika paused, then said, sighing, “We were not sure of the right runes.”

“Right. But I am sure,” he thought for a few moments, “Well, pretty sure.”

“I do not think ‘pretty sure’ is going to be good enough.”

“Trust me,” Roshan said, “she is my friend too.”

Rika looked him in the eyes for several long seconds, and then nodded. “Fine. What is your plan?”

“First, we need the Foinse-stone.”

“Foinse-rod,” Rika corrected him.

“Foinse-rod, then,” he looked at Eithne. “Can you get it from the Don?” Roshan sighed. “You might as well bring him along too, he’s probably going to want to see this.”

“Is this related to what he wanted to talk to you about the other day?” Eithne asked. When Roshan looked at her, surprised, she said “I am an historian, not an idiot. Besides, you are probably the worst dissembler I have ever met.”

Roshan smiled. “I guess I am,” he sat back and sighed heavily.  “For a few months now, the Don has been pressuring me to take my research in a… different direction. Namely, finding a way to drain Fòrsic energy rather than replenishing it.”

Eithne frowned, “That is more than just a different direction; it is completely contrary. Did he say why?”

“He was talking about using it as a weapon, but…” he gathered himself. “But that is not what I set out to do,” his voice came out more emphatic than intended.

Roshan expected them to laugh at him, or question his support for the Resistance. Instead, Rika nodded in agreement. “I know what that is like to have your research, your passion mistreated. It was why I joined the Resistance in the first place,” she put a hand on his shoulder. “The Don is wrong to pressure you this way, but I cannot believe that he does not have a good reason,” she was silent for a moment, moving, then added “although the weapons thing must be a misdirection, he should know better.”

“I have thought the same,” Roshan said. “He must know that any solution with the Foinse-rod, however necessary, is limited in scope. It cannot be the battlefield weapon he claims he want. It makes me… question his motives.”       

“That is understandable,” said Eithne, “but you should not be too harsh on him. The man bears a hard burden.”

“A burden I appreciate, though I wish I knew its origin,” Roshan shrugged, and gave a half smile half grimace, “I guess he will get want he wants, in the end, if we are to cure Isa.”

“It will be all right,” Eithne said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Roshan reddened, but said nothing.

“I do not think it is that urgent,” Rika said, looking down at the sleeping Isa fondly. “Let us put her to bed, Eithne. Roshan, find Syd. She has known the Don longer than any of us, and should be able to allay your worries,” she met his eyes, “tell her the truth, she will listen without judgement.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Roshan said, nodding. It was certainly a better idea then any he had thought of.

“Come on, Eithne,” Rika said, stooping down and putting Isa’s arm over her shoulder. “This lazy girl needs her rest.”

“…uhh, what’s that?” Isa yawned, blinking sleepily as Eithne took her other arm and with Rika hauled her too her feet.

“Never you mind,” Rika said, “it is time for you to go to sleep.”

“I was asleep,” Isa said, but she laid her head on Rika’s shoulder and allowed the two women to lead her from the room.

Roshan smiled as he watched them go, but as soon as they were out of the room his expression faded. He didn’t particularly want to talk to Syd about his concerns about the Don, but he wanted to talk to the Don even less. It was for a good cause though, so he took a deep breath, and set off into the lodge to find Syd.

Finding Syd, however, was easier said than done. All the common spaces in the lodge, and most of the streets outside of it, were filled with drunken revelers. Resistance members and townspeople mingled together, and the din was such that Roshan had trouble hearing himself think. Eventually, he retreated to the lodge’s residential wing, but Syd wasn’t to be found there, either. As he turned to go, however, he heard a voice hailing him.

“Oi, Roshan!” Roshan turned to see Trentor coming out of one of the rooms in the hallway, he looked slightly disheveled.

“Trentor, what are you doing here, I thought you would be out carousing?”

“I could say the same thing to you, lad,” Trentor said, smiling. “I am getting too old for this myself. Two days of revelry, fine, but better to hole up with a wineskin and a pretty girl on the third.”

Roshan grinned back. “Fair enough. I was looking for Syd, have you seen her?”

“Why would you be looking for that sourpuss? I can’t think of anyone who hates fun like this more.”

“I have something I need to speak with her about,” Roshan did his best to sound casual, but Trentor didn’t seem to care.

“Well, good luck,” he said. “I would try the roof, anywhere outside and away from people, really. Myself, well, I’ve got the pretty girl,” he gestured toward the room he had left, “now I just need more wine.”

“Check the storeroom to the right of the kitchen,” Roshan advised. “One of the main cooks, Evan, told me there was a supply of bottles there.”

“Thank you kindly, lad,” Trentor said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ll do that,” he headed off down the hall. “Good luck!” he called back down the hall as he rounded the corner.

Roshan headed off in the opposite direction. Thanks to Trentor, he had a good idea of where Syd might be. The Resistance’s lodge in Alsce had a high, peaked roof, to slough off the heavy snows common to the region. There wasn’t a flat place to stand anywhere around it, but there were a few balconies high up by the eaves, and he was sure that she would be in one of them.

He was right, although he had to check several of the balconies before he found Syd and Simon. They were both drinking wine and looking out at the rash of stars above him. Simon turned around first as Roshan opened the door. “Roshan, what brings you out here?”

“Oh, uh,” he hadn’t expected Simon to be out here as well, although now that he thought about it he didn’t see why he was surprised, the two seemed to be inseparable. “I was looking for Syd…” he trailed off as both Syd and Simon looked at him expectedly.

“Well,” Syd said finally, “you found me. What do you want?” Her tone was welcoming, but her expression was anything but.

Remembering Rika’s advice, Roshan decided to just go for it. He took a deep breath, “I need advice about the Don,” Syd and Simon exchanged glances. “Please,” Roshan added, “it is important. It is about potentially curing Isa.”

Syd nodded “Simon, would you please go fetch us some more wine?”

“You sure?” Simon said, rising and grabbing the wineskin that lay between them.

“Yes.”

Simon headed for the doorway, giving Roshan a look on his way by that seemed to say “good luck.”

“Thank you.”

She waved it off, “I was thirsty. Now, tell me what is going on.”

“Well…” He launched into the story, starting with the first conversation he had had with the Don several months ago, and what he had learned from the experiment with Isa that afternoon. Throughout the whole retelling Syd was silent, an inscrutable look on her face.

As he finished, she just sat back on her stool and nodded.

Roshan looked at her for several moments, waiting for her to say something. Finally, he prompted, “well?”

“Well, what?”

“Well, well what should I do? You know the Don best out of all of us, can I trust him with this power, so that we can cure Isa?”

Syd shrugged, “do you have a choice?”

“That is not a very comforting answer.”

“It is not always a comforting world,” she leaned forward, and looked Roshan right in the eyes. “Alistair is a noble man, with noble virtues. Those virtues include honor, but they also include ambition, an indomitable will, and a thirst for vengeance.”

“So you know where he is from, why he started the Resistance?”

Syd sighed. “I am not sure anyone knows that. Many years ago, my village was burnt to the ground by a rival tribe backed by the Prime and his cronies,” as Roshan started to speak his condolences, she waved him down, “it was a dispute over water and mineral rights in the desert, and it escalated, as those things tend to do. We were not blameless, either. I survived, and ended up in Dak, penniless with just my sword and my horse to my name. It was there Alistair found me, searching for fellow malcontents in his war against the Prime.”

Roshan was shocked, it was most he had ever heard Syd speak about herself. “So he had already started the Resistance?”

“Yes. Even then he was charismatic and brilliant, and the mystery of his background added to his legend. His accent, however, gave him away.”

“His accent?” The Don had one of the most un-notable accents Roshan had heard. He could have come from any of the six cities.

“Back then he had not completely rid himself of his original. He is of the… upper crust, as it were, of Ater-Volantis.”

“Ater-Volantis? So he must be someone the Prime has wronged personally.”

Syd shrugged, “that is all I know. He is doing a good thing, with the Resistance, regardless of his reasons for it.

“So, can I trust him?”

“That is not the right question. You can trust him to do what he deems necessary, but that may not always be the action you think it is.”

“So what is the right question?”

“The right question is: can you afford not to trust him?”

“I…” Roshan said, and then paused, thinking. What was he afraid of, that the Don would take his research with the Foinse-rod and run? Using it as a negator of Fòrsic energies would be limited, just as restoring crystals afflicted by Síosar would have to be done a few stones at a time. On the other hand, if Roshan didn’t trust the Don enough to ask to use to Foinse-rod to cure Isa, then he was putting one of his only friends at risk over a matter of principle that was more a gut feeling than anything else. “Thank you.”

“You have decided what to do?”

“Yes, I need to go find the Don now,” Roshan stood up and turned to leave.

“He will likely be in his office. Oh, and Roshan,” Syd said as he opened the door.

“What?”

“Trust, but verify.”

He gave her a sharp look, but her expression was as impenetrable as ever. Feeling more sure of himself than he had in a long while, he turned away and headed down the narrow steps in search of Alistair Gaunt.

For Chapter 22 click here.

The Floating City - Chapter 20

The Triumphant Return

The cock crowing startled Roshan awake. Rubbing bleary eyes, he peered out his window shutters at the dark and sleepy village. The sun had not yet risen, but the mountains were crowned with fire. Muttering dire threats towards all rooster kind, he pulled himself out of bed and began hunting for something to wear amongst the clutter of his room. Any other day he would have preferred to simply roll over and pull the heavy down blanket over his head, especially since he had been busy in the lab until the wee hours of the morning.

Rummaging through a promising looking pile, Roshan pulled out a heavy woolen robe, dyed some sort of deep blue, and threw it on over a patched pair of pants and a heavy linen shirt. Not a very distinguished look, he thought, squinting at his small, cracked mirror in the pre-dawn light. Still, it’ll do to get breakfast.

The kitchens of the hall were already up and running, and Roshan flexed his cold fingers appreciatively as the warmth of the kitchens embraced him.

“Busy day,” he observed to one of the cooks, a tall, slender Crystalian man by the name of Evan.

Evan cocked an eyebrow at him. “You’re up early, I didn’t expect you to be here scroungin’ until the sun was well up.”

Roshan smiled. “A rooster woke me up, I don’t suppose that we can have chicken for dinner?”

 Evan laughed. “Perhaps. But it does a fellow good to rise early.”

“Does you good maybe,” Roshan said, yawning. “Is there any chicory?”

“Not if you want to keep on tasting things,” Evan gestured toward a large kettle simmering on one of the kitchen’s several stove tops. “But if you insist, help yourself.”

“I will, thank you very much,” Roshan ambled over to the stove and took a deep breath, smiling as he inhaled the bitter fumes. For all he hated the stuff, Evan never slacked off on the brew. Roshan ladled the steaming chicory into an earthenware mug and sighed deeply as he took an exploratory sip. “Perfect,” he clutched the mug with both hands, feeling the heat erase the remaining chill in his hands. Taking a hand off for just a moment, he pocketed a spare roll and headed out back into the lodge, raising the mug in salute to Evan as he left.

The halls of the lodge were quiet and shadowed, just tinged with the daylight. For all Roshan had complained to Evan, he was no stranger to this time of day. Since his uncomfortable conversation with the Don, Roshan had been keeping odd hours. Part of it was the pressure to complete his research before Rika and Isa returned with the Foinse-stone, but he had been uncomfortable around the other resistance members since then as well. He moped around the kitchens more often, making friends with the head cooks so that he could beg food and avoid the main hall.

Roshan made his way slowly to the library, stopping every so often to sip from his chicory. He smiled as he approached; the thick oak doors of the library were slightly ajar and the orange glow of a Fòrsic lantern spilled into the corridors. One perk of being an early riser was that Eithne was one too, and Roshan pushed his way into the room with a cheery “good morning!”

“Good morning,” said Alistair Gaunt.

Roshan stopped dead in his tracks, almost spilling his chicory.  “Oh, uh, hello sir. I did not see you there.”

The Don of the Resistance smiled, “No worries, Roshan. It is still early. Besides, I dare say you were expecting someone else, hmm?” He winked, resembling nothing so much as a kindly old uncle, and Roshan flushed at the teasing tone.

“I do not know what you mean.”

“Come now, we are all adults here. You do not need to worry, Eithne should be back soon, she went to kitchens to fetch some food for us,” Alistair glanced at Roshan’s mug. “I am surprised that you did not see her.”

“I must have just missed her.”

“I guess you must have,” there was long pause. Alistair leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. The twinkle in his eye was gone. “You have been avoiding me, Roshan,” he said finally.

Roshan tried not to gulp. “I have been busy, sir,”

“The research, of course, but that is no excuse to hole up in your room,” he smiled. “A young man like you needs plenty of companionship.”

“I will try to get out more, sir,”

Alistair waved a hand. “As long as you are happy here. Now, tell me of your research,” he leaned forward, eyes intent on Roshan, “Harshun tells me it has been going well.”

Is Harshun an informant? Roshan wondered, or just making reports like me? Instead, he settled down into a seat near the Don. He placed his mug on a nearby table, and leaned forward too. “It has indeed been going well. Luckily, since the rumor is that Rika and Isa are returning today?”

“Rika and Isa? Oh, yes, Syd’s rambunctious team. They are due home soon, it might even be today. However, I assume what you really mean is that the Foinse-stone will be coming here.”

Roshan cared about Syd’s team as well, but he wasn’t sure that he wanted the Don to know that. He had heard nothing from the team except for a terse note from Syd, brought by messenger pigeon, saying that they were on their way back to Alsce. “It is true then, they have it?”

Alistair shrugged. “Syd would not return without a success,” he stared hard at Roshan, and then added, “and you have succeeded, too, yes?”

“Oh… uh, yes, we think so.”

“You think so.”

Roshan drew in a deep breath, “well, we can effect a transference of Fòrsic energy between crystals without everything exploding.”

“Excellent!”

“But,” he held up a hand, “the whole process is vastly inefficient. It takes a handful of crystals to repower even some of the smaller ones. It’s only potentially viable with the Foinse-stone, and I have no idea if that will work.”

Alistair stroked his moustache, his brow furrowed in thought. “Which glyph sets are you using? It must be quite complicated.”

Roshan grinned, “you could say that. Together Eithne and I must have poured over a thousand scrolls. We used runes dating from the discovery of Fòrsic energy to glyph sets invented just this year, and everything in between.”

The Don’s eyes sharpened, and he leaned forward. “You went that far back, hmm?”

“Uh… yes,” Roshan shifted uncomfortably. There were some dark places in the early history of Fòrsa, full of things that only the most dedicated Fòrsic historians and theoreticians remembered. Or the most desperate, he thought with a twinge of guilt.   [SL1] 

“I see. I was not aware we had tomes of that nature in the public library,” Alistair gestured to the room.

“Er, Eithne keeps a restricted list of more archaic scrolls. She calls most of it superstitious twaddle, though,” Roshan added hurriedly, not wanting to cast aspersions on his friend, “but some of the early rune formations were helpful with some of the energy transfer glyph aspects.”

Alistair stared at him for a few, hard seconds, and then smiled. “My dear boy, I know precisely where Eithne gets her books. There is no need to worry on her account. Besides,” he laughed, “most of it IS superstitious twaddle.”

Roshan was not reassured by the Don’s show of camaraderie. There weren’t that many shipments of rare books coming into a tiny mountain town, headquarters of the resistance or no. Eithne’s books had to come from somewhere, and if Alistair knew all about them, it was probably his private collection. Despite having used some of the runes in his own research, Roshan found some of the details of the early experiments with energy transference to be very discomfiting. Almost as soon as the first Fòrsic crystals had reached Fòirceann, people had been attempting to bring the energy back, and not all of them had been scrupulous about where the replacement energy came from. Maybe he was being paranoid, after all, Alistair Gaunt was a man of many talents, and was almost certainly a Theorist at one point, but Roshan didn’t feel like he could trust a man with an extensive collection of scrolls about blood magic. Still, he managed a smile at the Don’s laughter.

“Now,” the Don said, “have you given any further thought to my suggestion?”

Here it comes, Roshan thought. “You mean, draining energy?”

“Yes.”

“I cannot say that I have given it much thought,” Roshan lied.

Alistair cocked his head, looking at him. “Why not? It could be a powerful weapon against the Prime. Their stock of Fòrsic weapons is formidable, without them, we would be on an equal footing.”  

“Is open revolution your goal, then? Civil war?”

“My goal,” Alistair said, his voice hard, “is nothing more and nothing less than for the Prime and his cronies to pay for their crimes. The method is immaterial.”

“Síosar is a threat to everyone, sir,” Roshan reminded him heatedly. “Everyone. Including us and including the Prime.”

Alistair chuckled, Roshan thought it sounded forced. “My dear boy, do not be so limited in your thinking. There are two Foinse-stone’s, you know. After the Prime is dealt with, you would be free to do as you wish with the other.”

“We do not even know if this one will work! This could be our only chance, I will not throw it away. I sacrificed…”

“and I have sacrificed everything,” Alistair cut in. “Do not presume to dictate terms to me, boy. This is a more complex situation than you realize.”

There was a hot, heavy silence. Roshan was breathing heavily, his cheeks flushed. 

Alistair checked his Fòrsic pocket watch, a heavy, golden piece. “Eithne must have been delayed,” he said with an eerie calmness. “I have to go. Do tell her sorry for me,” he arose from his chair and strode out of the room, pausing at the doors. He turned back to look at Roshan, “Someday soon you will have to show me your research. We are running out of time,” and then he was gone.

Roshan let out a breath. He hadn’t meant to get that worked up, but by Alos that man made him jumpy. Like a rabbit when a great, big eagle stared at it, but instead of fleeing he fought. He slumped down into his chair, determined to enjoy his now thoroughly lukewarm chicory, and to not think about the shouting match he’d just gotten in with the Don of the Resistance. Not five minutes later though, the library door banged open and Eithne entered brightly, carrying a heavily laden breakfast tray.

“Oh, Roshan, good morning! Did the Don already leave?”

“Morning, Eithne,” Roshan said. “He just left. He left his apologies.”

Eithne made a moue, “why did he send me to get breakfast if he was not going to wait around for it?”

Roshan shrugged, “he is a busy man, maybe he forgot about a meeting he had?” Or he only wanted a chance to talk to me alone, he thought darkly.

“More for us then, Eithne shrugged. “Are you hungry?”

“Famished,” Roshan smiled, he’d forgotten about the rolls he’d stuffed into his pockets and now he was suddenly starving.

“Well dig in then,” Eithne said, setting the tray down between them. “We have a busy day ahead of us.”

“I hope so. The Don would not say whether Rika and Isa were returning today or not,” he buttered a thick hunk of bread and took a large bite.

“He is not one to share information unless absolutely necessary.”

“Frustrating, that, especially since that only goes one way.”

She smiled. “Yes, but you cannot deny his effectiveness. I would not be too hard on him, the Don is a man under immense pressures.”

“I know,” but it doesn’t explain everything. Roshan decided to change the subject. He had been doing that a lot, lately, when it came to discussing Alistair Gaunt or the Resistance.  “Did I tell you Harshun and I had a successful test?”

Eithne grinned and rolled her eyes at him. “You told me that yesterday!”

“Ah, but did I tell you how?” he tapped a slim, moldy looking scroll on the table next to him.

“No, but I think I can figure it out,” she said dryly, “considering I found that scroll for you.”

“Well,” Roshan said, striking a pompous pose. “After I discovered this scroll…” he laughed and ducked as Eithne threw a roll at his head. As he came back up, another roll bounced off his nose. “Mercy, mercy, I surrender,” He said, still laughing. “I give you full credit,”

Eithne paused, her arm cocked back and ready to throw a third bread roll. Her blue eyes gleamed at him. “You had better!”

“I bow to your superior skill at arms. But throwing food in a library?” he shook his head and tsked. “What kind of historian are you?”

She struck her own haughty pose. “The best kind,” and they grinned at one another.

They relaxed into breakfast and talking Fòrsic research, and Roshan tried to put his unsettling conversation with the Don from his mind.

Several bells later, he had been mostly successful. Being with Eithne was an easy camaraderie, and he felt he could put his troubles behind him. He had even found time to change into something less rumpled. But his ears still perked up at the ringing sound from the Alsce’s only watchtower. Someone was approaching.

Eithne looked at him as he cocked his head toward the sound, “are they coming?”

“Someone is,” Roshan put his head down. Suddenly he felt very shy. He had been looking forward to seeing his friends ever since he heard they were returning, but it had been a half a year since he had last seen Rika and Isa, and he had only been with them for a brief period. What if they no longer liked him?

Correctly interpreting his look, Eithne grabbed his arm and pulled him up. “Let’s go meet them! Rika and Isa are my friends too, you know.”

“Right,” He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He took Eithne’s hand, and then, tentatively, kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you.”

She smiled, he could see the faintest hint of a blush. “Are we going or what?”

He nodded, “let’s go.”

The weather outside was still frosty, even past midday. The last vestiges of winter holding on with gnarled fingers. There was a small crowd gathering near one of the entrances to the village when Roshan and Eithne hurried up. “Excuse me,” he said, as they wove their way to the front of the crowd.

Eithne tapped a man on the shoulder, “who is coming?” she asked. “We heard the bells.”

The man shrugged. “There’s a wagon and some people on foot, but they’re still too far away to make out,” he grinned, “first visitors of the spring though, means the passes are open and we can celebrate the end of another winter.”

Roshan peered outward. There was indeed a group of riders approaching, with horses pulling a small wagon. “They did not have a wagon when they left,” he said doubtfully.

“Maybe they picked one up!” Eithne said, her tone bright.

“Or someone is injured,” his mind shied away from that possibility.

Eithne patted his hand “I am sure it will be fine.  But the only way to find out is to wait.”

Roshan nodded. It wouldn’t be long now. They stood with the crowd, swapping observations and pleasantries with them until the approaching figures became close enough to make it out. As soon as recognized Syd, Simon, and Trentor, he hurried out to meet them, Eithne behind him. A knot began to form in his stomach, where were Rika and Isa?

Trentor was the first to notice him approaching. He looked haggard, and was clearly favoring one of his legs. Roshan guessed it might be the foot that was injured when they first brought Roshan to Alsce. Despite his evident exhaustion, he smiled broadly as Roshan reached him. “Roshan! How lovely to see you, out for a stroll?” He noticed Eithne behind Roshan, and winked broadly, “still keeping good company I see.”

Roshan smiled back, glad to see the talkative little man again. “Better company, I would say, since the last time I saw you.”

Trentor chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Our wayward theorist returns to us!” he said to Syd and Simon. Simon was driving the wagon, with Syd pacing him.

Simon smiled and waved, while Syd favored Roshan with a nod of acknowledgement. The two of them looked tired as well, Simon especially had dark circles under his eyes, and his complexion was rather more freckled than when Roshan had last seen him. “You all look like you have had a hard road,” Roshan observed to Trentor.

Trentor snorted. “You don’t know the half of it, sonny boy. Our full report should wait for the Don, but Rika and Isa are in the back of the wagon and they can catch you up.”

Roshan felt the knot in his stomach relax a little. “They are fine, then? I must admit, I was worried when I did not see them.”

“Rika is doing fine, but Isa…” he shrugged, and Roshan’s heart dropped, “well, she’s had a hard trip. It’s hard to describe, best you just see for yourself.”

“Oh.”

Trentor smiled at his expression. “Ease your mind, she’s not dying. She’s just… strange.”

“Strange?”

“Go see for yourself.”

“I will,” Roshan headed off, and then, pausing, turned back, “and Trentor…”

“Yes?”

“Welcome back!”

“It’s good to be home, kid, it’s good to be home,” Trentor said as Roshan headed off towards the wagon.

Rika and Isa were both in the back, heavily bundled. Rika was trying to feed Isa something from a thermos, but it didn’t appear to be going well. “I’m not an Alos damned infant, Rika,” Isa said as Roshan rounded the corner. She dodged a spoon full of liquid and it splattered on the wagon bed. “I can feed myself.”

Rika clucked her tongue impatiently. “Can you? Can you? What makes you think this time will be different from the hundred other times?”

Isa stuck her lower lip out, pouting.

“I’ll tell you what makes you think that. Pure stubbornness.”

“It is how I have kept going so far,” Isa said. She was aiming for a bantering tone, but it came out subdued.

Rika softened and gave her a hug, “I know, love. And you should not have to grin and bear it much longer, we are almost home.”

Isa said nothing, but she smiled.

“You are home,” Roshan said, taking the exchange as his cue to enter.

“Roshan!” Both girls exclaimed.

“And Eithne,” Eithne said, coming up to join him.

“Eithne!” Rika said, “you too!”

“I see you two are keeping… close,” Isa winked and Roshan blushed.

Eithne just laughed. “Someone had to keep an eye on this lug after you two left,” she leaned into his shoulder and he put his arm around her.

“Awww,” Isa said, “now come up here the two of you and give us a hug. I’d hug back, but…” she shrugged. Looking closer, Roshan saw that both of her arms were in slings.

“Oh no, Isa!” Eithne said. “What happened?”

“She broke both arms getting us out of the Crystalis mines,” Rika said.

Isa glared at her, “you mean, broke both my arms saving all your lives!”

“Right, that too,” Rika turned to Eithne and Roshan and said, sotto voce, “she has been insufferable ever since.”

Roshan smiled as Isa stuck her tongue out at her friend. “Naturally,” he paused, thinking, “But they are still broken? Why didn’t you use Fòrsic healing?”

The two women shared a look. “Well, uh, that is problem number two,” Rika said finally.

“Show them my arms,” Isa said.

“Isa…”

“Do it, they might be able to help.”

Rika nodded, and beckoned Eithne and Roshan forward. As she unwrapped Isa’s arms, she explained, “Do you remember the scars on Isa’s arm from her staff breaking last summer?”

 “Vaguely,” Roshan said, nodding.

“Well, she took some blasts of weird Fòrsic energy in the mines and it… did something to them.”

“Weird energy?” Eithne asked.

“Blood magic,” Rika said, her tone was flat.

Roshan snorted, and then caught himself at their expressions. “Blood magic does not work though,” he paused, guiltily aware of his own use of the forbidden runes. He took a breath, and continued, “I mean, the whole principle of drawing Fòrsic energy from living things is faulty…”

“Funny you should say that, you see…” Rika told him about the Choisant woman in the Overseer’s quarters.

At the end, Roshan’s expression was ashen… “but… blood magic?”

“I know,” Rika laid a hand on his shoulder. “It is contrary to everything we were taught, but, well, it seemed very real.”

“Too right it did,” Isa muttered. “Look at my arms!” she said as Rika unveiled them.

Eithne gasped, and Roshan felt like doing so as well. Isa’s arms were glowing. Faint Fòrsic tracings swirled their way up both of her arms in a spiral pattern that would have been beautiful, if it wasn’t so disturbing.

“Pretty impressive, right?” Isa said.

“That is not quite the word that I would use,” Roshan said.

“What does it mean? How, why did this happen?” Eithne asked.

Both Rika and Isa shrugged. “Dar-Alos knows,” Isa said.

“All we know is that using Fòrsic energy near it makes them grow,” Rika shrugged. “And we found that out the hard way. We have hardly used any Fòrsic technology since Crystalis. It has been a pretty miserable trip.”  

 “I can imagine,” Roshan squatted next to Isa and held out his hands. “May I?”

She nodded. “Go ahead, it doesn’t hurt, but my arms feel tingly most of the time.”

Roshan traced the faint patterns with the tips of his fingers. “These almost look like runic formations. Have there been any other effects?”

“Just one,” Rika said.

“I still think you made that up.”

“Just because you do not remember does not mean it did not happen,” Rika said. She looked at Roshan, “as soon as we were clear of the city, I tried to use some of my healing crystals. As soon as I did, her eyes started glowing a bright green and a small, localized earthquake almost took out our horses.”

“Huh,” Roshan said, “That is… wow. I realize what Trentor was saying now when he said Isa had been strange.”

“That hairy bastard said that, did he?” Isa said. “I’ll be sure to get him back.”

Rika rolled her eyes. “He was only telling the truth, love, it has been a weird few months.”

“Well,” Roshan said, putting his arm around Isa. “You are both back now, and that is what counts.”

“We can solve the problem of your arms in the morning,” Eithne added. “For now, the whole town wants to throw a party welcoming you.”

“Welcoming us?”

Eithne smiled. “Not only are you returning heroes of the Resistance, but you are the first travelers of the season! Everyone wants to celebrate the beginning of spring.”

Roshan smiled too, “Welcome home!”

Chapter 21 is here.

The Floating City - Chapter 19

The Darkened Room, Part 2

They raced down the dark corridor, Rika and Sean leading the way. Syd and Simon flanked Isa as she used the limitless power of the Foinse-stone to deter their pursuers. They pressed onward, moving forward to prevent themselves from being overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the mine guards.  At a crossroads, Rika spared a glance behind. Simon was dropping back to Trentor, who was bringing up the rear.

“How are you doing, old man?” He asked.

“Not as old as you are!” Trentor said. He was clenching his teeth.

“I am not the one hobbling behind everyone else,” Simon paused, and gave his friend a considering look. “Foot?”

Trentor shrugged. “Someone’s got to bring up the rear.”

Ahead of them, Syd frowned. “How much further?” she asked Sean.

“Not much, we are almost through.”

She looked back at Trentor, who was panting more heavily. “Don’t… worry about… me.”

“Stay with him,” she said to Simon. “It would be a shame if we had to break out with only five of us.”

“Your… consideration… is overwhelming,” panted Trentor.

As they rounded a corner, Sean threw out his hand and stopped suddenly. “Dim the light!” When Rika obeyed, he lowered his arm and gestured for her to look around the corner. Nerves tingling, she slowly stuck her head around it, and swore as she saw what was on the other side.

“What is it?” Isa asked, whispering as she caught up to them.

“A road block,” Rika said. “Get Syd!”

Isa beckoned Syd forward, and the tall woman was there in an instant. “What?”

“The way is blocked. There’s a cadre of Choisant and a big net.” She had recognized the Choisant from the sigil sewn onto their black cloaks, a crystal set in the center of a spider’s web.

“Can you blast through them?” Syd asked Isa.

“The soldiers, definitely. If the net is anchored at all firmly…”

“It is,” Rika interrupted. “Pegs in the rock on either side of the corridor on both the top and bottom.”

“Then no.”

“Why not?”

“The runes we are using generate a blast wave of Fòrsa, but while it is good for hurling people and doors about, it would pass right through the net,” she shrugged, “think of it like wind. There are too many holes, so the force would be too spread out.”

Syd nodded, understanding. She looked at Sean as Trentor and Simon caught up to them. “Is there another way?”

Sean hesitated, thinking. “Do you have any rope?”

“Yes,” Rika and Isa both answered.

“How much?”

“We each have a coil of fifty feet of climbing rope,” Rika said. “Is that enough?”

“It’ll have to do.”

Simon frowned. “You are not thinking of…” he paused when he saw his brother’s grin and sighed. “Straight out of the top, then?”

“Straight out, indeed.”

“What?” Syd demanded.”

“You explain on the way,” Sean said, nodding at Simon. “The rest of you, follow me!” and he dashed off back down the passageway, before darting down a side tunnel that they had previously blown by.

“Go,” Syd said, and the group followed on his heels. “Where are we going?” She asked Simon again as they rounded the corner and caught up to Sean.

“They have probably blocked off all the entrances by now, if that net was any indication,” Simon said, by way of reply.

“Yes, and?”

“So there is only one exit left.”

“Simon,” Syd warned, “out with it.”

“Well, the Overseer’s office has windows, and a lovely view of the mountains…”

“So that’s why we need the rope,” Rika said, as she paced herself just in front of them.

“What is going on?” said Trentor, limping gamely after them.

“We are going out the windows and down the cliff face,” Simon said.

“It will be fun!” Isa said.

“Sure, if you are crazy. Isa, I think you have been close to too many explosions,” Trentor said. Isa turned and winked at him and then went back to running. Trentor sighed, “At least the view will be nice.”

This set of corridors was different from the one they had been fleeing down before: brighter lit, and with smoother sides. These were clearly the more used areas of the mine, and Rika thought she smelt food cooking. Simon had said that there were communal rest areas throughout the mine. That meant people, but these tunnels were empty. “Where are all the workers?” Rika asked as they ran on.

“Protocol for an intrusion is for the guards to defend the entrances, while the workers are sequestered in the dining hall,” Sean said, in between breaths.

“Couldn’t they help, too?” Isa asked.

“Relations between the workers and the Overseer are at an all-time low. They would as happily help us as help him.”

“After all, you are here,” Rika said.

“He is a special case,” Simon said from behind them. “The mine is a convenient sideline for those in my family’s line of business.”

“How little you know, little brother. Things are different now. Relations are… strained.”

“Much to the family’s benefit, I assume.”

“Only because we choose to see it that way. Disruptions are bad for business, but they do bring other opportunities.”

Simon opened his mouth to question his brother further, but Syd stepped up between them. “Talk later. Run now.”

They ran on. The corridors were now brightly lit, well-traveled paths. Signposts pointed the way to a bar, a tea shop, and to the dining hall. It was a veritable deserted city under the mountains of Crystalis. Their footsteps echoed in the stillness up and down the smooth-worn halls, and Rika could feel hairs rise on the back of her neck. “Too quiet,” she heard Isa mutter under her breath. “I do not like it.”

Rika winked at her. “Do you ever like quiet?”

Isa stuck her tongue out at her. “This is different, it’s…” she searched for a word, “oppressive.”

“I know,” Rika said, becoming serious again. “I feel it too.”

“We all feel it,” Simon said. “Keep your eyes and ears open.”

The air felt thicker, heavier, and the sounds of their footsteps vanished into the corridors like pebbles into a still pond. Looking at her arm, Rika could see all of her hairs were standing straight up, and Isa’s thick, black hair was actually lifting up her headscarf as strands wriggled free from her braids. “Isa,” she called, “your hair!”

Isa checked her own arms, “Alos fend.”

“What?” Syd demanded.

Isa was looking around at all of them now, eyes wide. “Fòrsa,” she said. “This corridor is filled with it. It’s why it feels so… static-y.”

“Is it a trap?”

Isa looked at Rika, who shrugged in response. “There is probably enough energy in the air to cook us all, if it discharged.”

“Oh, excellent,” Trentor said, catching up as the group paused to take stock. “I love it when it is good news.”

“In a way, it is,” Rika said. “We are still alive, after all. A trap would have triggered by now. This is…something else.”

“We do not have time for this,” Sean said from further up the corridor. “The Overseer’s chambers are right around the corner. We must go, now!”

“Whatever is happening,” Syd said, “It has not harmed us yet. Let us go before whoever holds this power changes their mind.”

Or finishes whatever they need all this energy for, Rika thought to herself as they rounded the corner. It was not comforting to think about. Whatever was drawing all this energy, she could not imagine it being used for a beneficial purpose. Not in a place where those in charge were actively experimenting with forbidden and dangerous techniques.

The doors to the Overseer’s quarters were indeed nearby, at the end of an ornate, brightly lit, stone hallway. The corridor they had come from opened up near the end of it, leaving the entrance to the Overseer’s chambers at the end of a small cul-de-sac, marked by a garish set of oaken doors. They were covered in gilt with ornate bronze handles, and they were also… vibrating? Rika peered closely at them, trying to figure out why they seemed to be shaking faintly in their frames.

“It appears the Overseer is not given to understatement,” Trentor said, as the group paused to survey the entranceway.

Simon turned to his brother, “do you think he is inside?”

“Only one way to find out,” Sean reached for the bronze door handle.

“Wait!” Rika hissed.

Sean paused, looking back at her. “What?”

“Do not touch it, something is wrong.”

“I feel it, too,” Isa said.

“Everyone back up,” Syd commanded, and the group slowly backed away from the door and into the side corridor from which they had entered. “Now,” she said once they were all back in the side corridor, “What is going on?”

“I think the door is rigged, somehow,” Rika said.

“I agree,” said Isa, “The doors are charged with energy. You can see them shaking.”

“Is this related to the Fòrsic buildup we have been sensing?”

Isa and Rika both shrugged. “Could be,” Rika said.

“We would have to trigger it to be certain,” Isa added.

“Can you open the door without triggering it?”

“Maybe, but It would be easier to trigger it,” Rika said. “If we bleed off the Fòrsic energy, then we can just open the door.”

Syd stared at them both, thinking, before nodding decisively. “Do it.”

Rika and Isa exchanged a quick grin. “On it!”

“And hurry,” said Sean. “We cannot wait here forever.”

Rika waved her hand airily at him, but Isa was already occupied with planning their approach. She peered out around the corner, her senses searching for any reaction and her body prepared to jerk to safety in an instant. She stared intently at the door for several moments, and then pulled her head back. Rika was right behind her.

“Strange, right?”

“Yes, it’s very faint, but you can feel the tension.”

“What do you think?”

“What’s that cliché, tension you can cut with a knife? I say we cut it -- with a rod,” Isa waggled the Foinse-rod at Rika.

“Blowing things up is your answer for everything.”

Isa stuck her tongue out. “A trapped door is not a trap if there is no door.”

“The door does not need to be the focus. It could be triggered if something crosses the frame, or if the door opens. In the first case, we die even if we blew the doors down, and in the second, blowing down the doors kills us anyway.” 

“I know that,” Isa said, “but it should not matter if we use enough Fòrsa. A large enough blast will disrupt any triggering mechanisms. Maybe.”

“It is inelegant.”

“But efficient!”

Rika thought for a moment. “Fine,” she made a calming gesture as Isa clapped her hands in excitement. “Wait, before you run off and do something stupid. I am still worried about the discharge frying us where we stand. What if we reflected it before it reached us?”

“Reflected, how?” Isa said, and then answered her own question. “Oh, I see. That is crazy!” She paused. “Let’s do it!”

Five anxious minutes later, Rika watched as Isa braced herself in the center of the main corridor, with Rika’s crystal studded buckler held at chest height. Three of the five crystals embedded in the shield’s surface were glowing, a triangle of light signifying that the shield would reflect Fòrsic energies. The Foinse-stone was strapped to the back of the shield, the paint of its blast wave creating runes scrapped off and replaced with a new set, mirroring the ones on the shield and increasing its effectiveness. At least, theoretically.

While Rika had been preparing the shield, Isa had been using up the rest of their meager supply of paint on the main corridor, laying down a series of runes to direct Fòrsic energies to a single point. After poking weapons, and then themselves, out into the hallway, they had ascertained that whatever the energy build up was, it was not reactive to them being in the corridor. Still, they had moved the rest of the group even further down the side passageway, except for Simon.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” He asked, as Isa gave them a nod to say that she was set.

Rika shrugged. “Yes, I think so. It is the best way to protect the rest of us, and the energy the Foinse-stone emits is immense. That shield could reflect an Ater-Volantis lift crystal... I think.”

“You think?”

“There’s only one way to know for sure. Can you hit the door from here?”

Simon looked into the corridor, “It will not pose a problem.” He hefted a fist-sized stone and hurled it the door before diving back into the side corridor. The rock hit the door to the Overseer’s chamber with a resounding thunk. Nothing happened. Simon and Rika looked at each other, and then out at Isa.

Isa looked back at them. “Well, that was anti-climactic,” she said, relaxing. “Throw…” but whatever else she was about to say was cut off as a titanic beam of Fòrsic energy erupted from the door and slammed into her small, metal buckler.

“Isa!” Rika screamed as the wind from the backdraft slammed into her and Simon in the wall of the side corridor. The breath rushed out of her in a whoosh and she blinked rapidly, trying to regain her sight. Her ears rang with a high-pitched buzzing sound, and she felt blood trickling out of her nose.

“What… was… that…” wheezed Simon next to her.

“I don’t know,” she tried to snap back, but heard only a croak emerge. “ISA!”  

Syd and Trentor were at their side moments later. Trentor checked them both carefully for wounds. “Are you all right? What happened?” Syd asked hurriedly.

“I’m fine…I…don’t…Isa!” Rika stammered out. Trentor pulled her to her feet and slapped a hand hard on the small of her back. “Thanks,” she said, surprised to be able to take a breath.

“An old combat trick,” Trentor said, as he turned to do the same to Simon. “But anything for our theorist.”

“Oh my,” Syd said. She stood in the main corridor, her hand covering her mouth.

Rika rushed out into the corridor. The stones down the middle of it had been charred black in a single, straight line, about as wide as Rika was tall. The char narrowed to a point where Isa had been standing. Rika looked around frantically. Further down the corridor, there was a limp, black-haired body, limbs and braids spread akimbo. “Isa!” Rika cried as she rushed to her friend’s side. She was still holding the blackened shield, but as Rika touched it, it crumbled into dust, the Foinse-stone clinking to the floor.

Isa was barely breathing, but her eyes fluttered open as Rika cradled her head. “Ow,” she said, so softly that Rika had to bend her head to hear her.

“It should have been me out there,” Rika said.

“I’m… braver… and dumber… than you. Made… sense.”

“Hush,” Rika looked up back down the corridor. “Alos guide us,” she breathed. The door to Overseer’s quarters was simply gone. The ragged hole where it had been showed that the reflected energies had actually enlarged the doorway. The blast had travelled straight through the chambers and out the windows on the other side. Daylight, real daylight, was streaming through.

“Did… I do… good?”

“You did fine, love,” Rika checked her friend over carefully. “Quit the dramatic talk though, you’re not dying.”

“I… know,” Isa said sitting up. “I just like talking like that.”

Rika laughed in relief, and wiped her tears away. Life without Isa was not something she wanted to think about. “Let’s get you up,” she said, and helped Isa struggle to her feet.

Isa let out a gasp as Rika pulled her up and clutched her shoulder.

“What is wrong?”

“I think it’s broken,” Isa took a step, and then switched to clutching her side. “My ribs, too.”

“Everything all right?” Syd called from where she stood further down the corridor.

“Isa is banged up, but we are all right,” Rika called back as she slipped her arm underneath Isa’s and helped her limp toward the rest of the group.

“We need to go, now!” Sean said, glancing around the hallways uneasily. “Someone else will have heard us.”

“Everyone will have heard us,” Trentor said. “That was the loudest noise I have ever heard in my entire life. Living inside of a thunderclap would be quieter than that noise.”

“All according to plan,” wheezed Isa as she and Rika reached the group.

“Oh, really?” Trentor arched a bushy eyebrow. “You meant to blow yourself up?”

“Well, no, but we broke through the door, triggered the trap, and no one died, so…”

“We can discuss this later,” said Syd. “It is time to leave.”

The group hurried down the corridor, Rika supporting Isa’s limping, hunched-over form. The Overseer’s quarters were as ornate and ostentatious as the doors had been, and they were almost as destroyed. “I guess we will not trip on anything on the way out,” Trentor said, gesturing at the swath of destruction that led out to the broken windows.

“You are welcome,” Isa said.

“I cannot wait to get out of here,” Rika said, “This place gives me the creeps. It feels like a storm is coming.”

“A storm IS coming,” came a voice, low, throaty, and unmistakably feminine. The group whirled toward the sound. The speaker was a tall, dark-haired woman, dressed in black and crimson robes emblazoned with the spider-web of the Choisant. Rika fought an urge to gasp. The woman was holding a severed head as casually as if it were a handbag.

“Who are you?” demanded Syd.

“The new Overseer, of course. The old one was ineffectual. He was… terminated from his position,” She hefted the head, and light flashed off of the crystals protruding from the eye sockets.

“Crystals in the eyes,” Rika said, “Careful!”

“I thought you said blood magic does not work,” Trentor said.

 “Blood magic did not work, but the world is changing,” the woman said. “The age of Fòrsa is ending. Allow me to demonstrate,” she lifted the head, and the crystals embedded in its eyes began to glow a sickly green color. The mouth opened, and the hair on the back of Rika’s neck began to tingle as energy gathered. “I have enjoyed watching you scurry about my mines, but it is time for you to leave now – and you may even serve a higher purpose once dar-Alos has gathered your souls.”

“No!” Isa cried as the beam building in the head exploded outwards. Dragging Rika with her, she threw herself in front of the group, raising the Foinse-rod still clutched in her injured arm. Thunder pealed, deafening in the enclosed space, and everyone was thrown to the ground. The beam, however, was reflected back. With another ear-shattering bang, the head burst. The impact threw the newcomer through the wooden partition behind her.

“What in dar-Alos’s name is going on now?” asked Trentor.

“I have no idea,” Rika said. “Help me get Isa up, and let us get out of here as fast as possible.”

Isa was out cold, a limp weight pinning Rika to the floor. Rika had tried her best to catch her friend with her body, but now she was having trouble getting out from under her. “I had no idea you were this heavy,” Rika muttered, as Trentor and Simon hauled the two women to their feet.

Isa’s eyes fluttered open briefly. “How rude,” she said, and then she was limp again, although her hands still clutched the pristine Foinse-rod. Rika queasily noted that the spiraling scars on her arms, the legacy of the previous summer’s incident with the bandits, were glowing faintly. That cannot be good, she thought. However, there was no time to consider it further. Syd and Sean had also picked themselves off the floor, and were busily tying their ropes around a central pillar. “We need to leave,” Syd said. “I want to be on the ground before they come to investigate.”

“There is no way Isa will make it down by herself,” Rika said, looking out over the drop. The late Overseer’s quarters opened up onto a sheer cliff of at least forty vertical feet, overlooking the Crystalis. This would be a challenging climb, even under normal circumstances.

“I will carry her,” Simon said. “There is enough rope left over to tie her to my back.”

“All right,” Trentor said. “Let’s go. Preferably before any more terrible things happen.”

Chapter 20 can be found here.

The Floating City - Chapter 18

The Darkened Room

Isa swore vehemently as the door clicked shut, leaving the group in darkness. The stream of invectives subsided when Trentor gave a cry of pain. “What is it?” Rika yelled, turning towards the sound of his voice.

“Stubbed my toe…”

“Everyone be quiet,” Syd ordered. “Rika and Isa, light! The rest of you, stand still and try not to move, we don’t know if there are other traps here.”

“The door shouldn’t have shut like that,” Isa muttered. There was a muffled thump as she set her pack down heavily, followed by rustling noises as she rummaged through it. Rika did the same. The room was utterly black -- she couldn’t see a hand in front of her face, let alone the contents of her bag. Still, there weren’t too many hard objects shaped like crystals in her bag. She had no idea what had happened to pull the energy from both of their torches, but it was a decided inconvenience. 

“Ah ha!” Isa crowed in triumph as she found and activated a small crystal from her bag, filling the room with a soft, orange glow. Compared to the previous, crushing darkness, the low light seemed extremely bright, and it looked like Isa held a campfire in her palm. The shifting of the light through Isa’s fingers gave Rika a headache, but being able to see her friend’s faces heartened her. With the aid of the light, she was soon able to pull her own spare crystal from her pack and brighten the room further, enough so that Rika and Isa could examine the doorway.

“Is it locked?” Trentor asked several minutes later. He was perched on the empty plinth where the Foinse-stone should have been. Simon, Syd, and Sean were all standing around too, Sean especially looking bored. The interior looked much the same as the heavy, iron outside, but without the Fòrsic lock. The lock had been in the center of the door, but from this side there was only smooth, black iron. Rika could not even see where the two doors split apart to open. Her first trick had been to push against it with all her might, to no avail.

“It might as well be,” she answered Trentor. “I see no lock, no door knob, nothing.”

“Could you blast it open?” Syd said.

Isa shrugged, looking around the small chamber. The back of the room was lost in darkness, while cloth sacks and wooden cabinets, presumably full of gold, precious gems, and other valuables, cast odd shadows in the light. “Probably not without killing us all.”

“Probably?”

“Depends on how big the room is and how we direct the back blast… but we would likely die, yes.”

Syd frowned, thinking. “Is there a way to open the door without all of us dying?”

It was Rika’s turn to shrug. “You see those raised bumps in the corner of the door?” She pointed, and Syd nodded.

“Are those hinges?” Simon asked.

“We think so,” Rika replied. “If we could destroy them, and found some proper blasting equipment, we could blow the doors out and away from us.”

“We’re in a vault full of everything the Crystalis mines consider valuable,” Sean put in. He’d been watching the conversation with an aloof expression on his face, but now he smiled a toothed smile. “We should see what we can… appropriate.”

“Do that,” Syd ordered, nodding her head in agreement. “Look for anything useful.”

“Or small and valuable enough to take with us?” Trentor interjected.

Syd frowned him, and then shook her head in resignation. “Fine. But if you weigh yourself down too much, we will leave you behind.

Trentor grinned, and the group split up to investigate the chamber. Rika and Isa placed their lights on the empty plinth and set to rummaging through crates, bags, and cabinets with a will. The sacks were indeed filled with gold and precious gems, but the cabinets had a much wider range of implements and devices, the value of which were not immediately obvious. “Wait a moment,” Isa said. “There’s something strange about these cabinets.”

“The glass fronts?” Simon asked.

“Yes”

“Are they trapped somehow?” Said Syd.

“No,” said Isa, “or at least not that I can tell. I think that this room is a museum.”

“Who builds a museum in a vault?” Trentor Said.

“It’s not a museum, anymore,” everyone’s heads whipped around to stare at Sean as he stepped out of the darkness at the back of the room. He was carrying a thick sack made up of burlap. It looked… wet, in the dim light.

“Explain,” Syd’s tone was flat, but Sean’s expression didn’t display any nervousness.

“It was a vault, first, and then the Overseer had a fit of vanity, and repurposed it.”

“When was this?” Simon asked.

He waved a hand airily. “Soon after you left. This vault became a repository of everything the Overseer wanted to show off, all the wondrous crystals they’d dug up from the mine, and the Fòrsic technology they built with them.”

“Including the Foinse-stone, I assume. What’s your point? Where is it?” Isa said.

“Five years ago, things began to change. The quality of the crystals mined began to degrade, and more and more crystals reached Fòirceann even before we could ship them out. The Overseer began to get desperate. If production failed, he would lose his position.”

“So he covered it up,” Trentor said.

Sean nodded. “Yes, the museum was shut down, and the failing crystals were hidden away in the vault.”

“Wait a second,” Isa frowned. “This doesn’t make any sense. If production of usable crystals had fallen significantly, we would have heard! At least through our spy-networks, anyway.”

“Indeed.”

“So how could we not know?”

Sean didn’t answer, he just stared fixedly at Simon.

Simon’s eyes were widening. “The reserve!”

“What?” Rika and Isa both asked.

“If more crystals are dug up than are used, the mine keeps what is left over, as a reserve for hard times,” he looked back at Sean. “The Overseer’s really spent down the reserve?”

Sean nodded. “It’s almost gone. The situation is so severe, in fact, that there is a rumor he had turned to other methods.”

“…other methods?”

“The rumors are that he began experimenting with blood magic.”

“Impossible,” Rika said, just as Isa exclaimed, “That’s a myth!”

Syd looked at Rika and Isa. “One of you, explain,”

“Go ahead,” Rika said.

“You’re the Theorist, you do it.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she looked out at the rest of the group. The Fòrsic crystals on the plinth gave off a strong, steady glow, but she could swear the shadows they cast flickered. This was not a topic she wanted to discuss while trapped inside a sealed vault under a mountain. Isa gave her an encouraging look, and she took a deep breath and began. “You remember our discussion of Roshan’s theory, returning energy to crystals using the Foinse-stone?”

Syd nodded.

 “It’s not the first time that someone has tried something like that, or so the story goes. It doesn’t make sense using regular crystals, because you simply sacrifice one crystals’ energy for another. However, according to some of the older scrolls on Fòrsic theory, a Theorist many, many years ago claimed that you could use life energy to recharge crystals.”

“Life energy?”

“Blood sacrifice. Of the glyphs we use channel physical, mental, or spiritual types of energies, the last type is often misunderstood. It seemed as if the Theorist thought it was theoretically possible, but in the story, he was never successful. When the Dakian authorities traced several murders back to him, they put a stop to it, and that was the end of that.”

“Unless,” Isa said, turning to look at Sean, “what you say is true.”

“I assume you have proof?” Syd asked.

In response, Sean turned and dumped out his sack on to the empty plinth. There was a wet thud and Rika gasped, while Trentor swore vociferously.

“Where did you get that?” Simon demanded,

At the same time Isa asked, “Is… that a human head?” Her voice gave nothing away, but Rika could tell that she was shaken. Rika herself was, too. It certainly looked like a severed head, and one recently separated from its owner. The neck was encrusted with dried blood, and the head’s bald pate shone in the Fòrsic lamplight. The skin was shrunken and waxy, and the thing smelled abominable. However, most disconcerting of all was that instead of eyes, the head stared out at them with two large crystals. Both were milky and inert, and spotted with brown blood. Painted in blood around the eyes, on the cheeks and the nose, were a multitude of tiny, intricately detailed glyphs. Rika even recognized a few of them, some pertaining to spirit energy and others to guide the path of Fòrsic energy.  

“I found it in a pile at the back of the room,” Sean’s voice was level, but he was staring fixedly at the severed head. “There were others. This is… beyond what I feared.”

 “How many other people know about this?” Syd asked.

“For that matter,” Simon added, “whose head is this, brother?”

“There were rumors, but…” he gestured at the head, “this will be the match to the Overseer’s funeral pyre. The head’s identity, I am not sure about, but miners have been known to disappear of late. Especially the ones who have caught the displeasure of the Overseer,” he shrugged, a fatalistic tone to her voice. “We had thought it was just the Overseer cracking down, such events are not uncommon, but this…”

“Alos guide us,” Rika whispered. If true -- and the head certainly looked like what she had read of blood magic, although she had no desire to inspect it any closer – the implications were horrifying. The need to escape this vault was ever more pressing. The Don and the Resistance had to be informed!

“Rika, can you identify the glyphs?” Syd asked.

Rika shot her a pleading look, but their leader was unmoved.

“We must know what they were attempting. You are our Theorist.”

Rika gave a heavy sigh and stepped slowly up to the plinth. Isa followed on her heels. There was no real need for her to accompany Rika, but Rika knew Isa’s curiosity would let her do nothing else, and Rika took comfort in her friend’s steady presence behind her. The head was lying on its side, and, suppressing a surge of nausea, she took a pair of examiners gloves from her belt pouch, slipped them on, and carefully lifted the head up and set it down on its stump of a neck, right side up. Up close, she recognized more glyphs. Use of spiritual-focused glyph sets was uncommon, but all Theorists had to have at least passing knowledge of the field. These ones seem focused on channeling energy toward the two Fòrsic crystals embedded in the eye sockets. She gasped as she deciphered the activation sequence, and turned away. Bent over with her hands on her knees, she channeled all of her energy into not vomiting on the vault’s floor. Isa put a comforting hand on her shoulder, and Rika pulled herself together with deep, gulping breaths.

“What did you find?”

“I can explain,” Isa said, but Rika waved her off.

“I can do it,” she turned to Syd. “It is definitely blood magic. The runes are set up to channel energy into the… eye crystals. Clearly it did not work, as the crystals are inert. However,” she paused, gathered herself, and continued. “The runes were drawn to activate upon the death of the wearer. Which means…”

“The crystals were inserted while the man was still alive,” Isa completed, and Rika nodded her thanks.

“By Dar-Alos himself,” Syd swore, but before she could say anything else, a commotion arose behind Rika.

“Look!” Trentor said, pointing at the head.

Rika whirled around. The head, and the plinth, were glowing. The source was hard to discern, but the dried blood of the runes were being traced in copper fire. The crystals in the eyes were glowing too, their opaque milkyness brightening into white fire. The room was brightening noticeably until it seemed brighter than midday in summer. Rika stepped back from the head and raised an arm protectively over her eyes, just as two massive beams shot forth from the newly activated crystals. They slammed into the iron door, leaving two large dents and an echoing ringing sound that forced them all to cover their ears. Just as quickly as it had begun, the glowing faded away. The room seemed dimmer now, duller, save for the two bright crystals now shining in the head’s eyes, now blackened from the force of the blast.

“What in the world was that?” Trentor said, blinking the light from his eyes. It was difficult to hear him over the persistent ringing noise in Rika’s ears.

“I…I don’t know,” she said, “It shouldn’t have been possible.” She stepped forward to examine the crystals. They had definitely been inert when she examined the head just moments earlier, but now they were infused with Fòrsa. She stared at the Crystals, baffled.

“Did the blood magic work, after all?” Simon said.

Rika shook her head. “No, there was no provision in the runes for a delayed reaction. Whatever happened, it was not the blood magic.” She was sure of that. At least, she thought she was sure.

“I recommend you find out what did happen, and fast,” Trentor said. “Others will have heard that ringing blow against the door.”

“Oh, no,” Rika, distracted, hadn’t considered that aspect of their predicament. She bent to examine the crystals more closely. They were definitely charged again, despite having clearly reached Fòirceann and been inert before….whatever had happened….

Meanwhile Isa was staring intently at the plinth below the head. The plinth itself was about a foot on each side, the top was three feet off the ground, held up by a fluted column carved to look like a furled scroll underneath the top piece. Rika had assumed it was made of marble, with its milky-white finish, and had not paid it much mind at all, except to be disappointed when the Foinse-stone wasn’t resting on it on a velvet pillow.

“Huh,” Isa said, and bent to examine the scrolled carvings underneath the base. Rika followed suit, as Isa’s hunches were usually correct. “Look at that,” Isa pointed at the scroll carving, and Rika nodded in acknowledgement. The carving was asymmetrical. On one side the ‘scroll’ was filled with a smooth rod, while on the other, the rod was missing.

“Is that what I think it is?”

In response, Isa just grinned fiercely. She reached out, and tugged the rod free of the scroll. It slid out into her hand with minimal effort, and she held it up triumphantly. “Behold!” she said, “The Foinse-stone.” The rod wasn’t marble at all, but a foot long length of crystal, about the width of two crystals in diameter.

“Or part of it, anyway,” Rika added.

“There is more than one?”

Rika and Isa nodded. “Looks that way,” Isa said. “This plinth is not marble, it’s crystal. I think the whole thing is the Foinse-stone, carved to disguise it. Someone must have removed the piece that lay here,” she indicated the cushion, but they forgot this other one,” and she waved the rod she’d claimed.

“But how do you know it is the Foinse-stone?” Simon asked.

“I am guessing, but the lore around the Foinse-stone is sparse,” Rika said. “All depictions of it since its discovery hundreds of years show it as a single, fluted rod. It’s possible whoever took it from the room didn’t know any better.”

“But why do you two think you do know better.”

“The glyphs on the head were rather vaguely written,” Rika said. “They were supposed to draw energy from the death of the person, but they weren’t limited to that,” she shrugged. “When I set it right-ways up on the plinth, they must have drawn energy from the Foinse-stone, instead.” She shook her head in amazement. “This proves Roshan has the right of it, at least.”

“If the runes were correct,” Trentor asked, “why didn’t the Blood Magic work?”

Rika shrugged. “Who knows? Blood Magic is not exactly common knowledge, it is only told as a cautionary tale to Theorists and Engineers who have completed their training. Maybe it requires a different set of runes?

“We do not have time for a discussion on Fòrsic theory,” Syd said. “We have what we came for.” She looked at Rika and Isa and smiled. “Can you get us out of here?”

“With this?” Isa gestured with the rod. “No doubt about it.”

** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

The next quarter bell went by swiftly. As Rika copied down the runes on the head onto a blank scroll, Isa carefully removed the now fully charged crystals. Sean placed the head back in its sack, and she expertly etched a series of glyphs on both of them, and used paints that Simon had found to draw a third set onto the Foinse-stone rod. It was the only portable piece of the Foinse-stone, which, as far as they could tell, extended deep into the floor. The miners must have carved this vault around it, and since the group could not take it with them, they couldn’t afford to etch runes into the rod, not when those runes might have to be changed later. Besides, with the Foinse-stone’s peculiar properties, the lack of efficiency from using paint wouldn’t matter in the slightest. While the two of them worked industriously, Simon and Trentor kept their ears to the door, listening as best they could for noises outside the chamber.

After she finished etching the two eye-crystals, Isa started using them to melt the hinges off the door. Moving as carefully as possible, she produced an intense flame from each of the crystals that ate away at the iron lining the hinges, and then the hinges themselves. The doors sagged, held in place only by the frame and each other. She attached the crystals, still full of energy, to the center of each door, and stepped back. “Done,” she said, keeping her voice to a whisper. Simon and Trentor indicated that there were people outside the doorway now. They were running out of time.

“Done!” Rika said just a few moments later.

Syd beckoned them all over, and they put their heads together. “This information must get out. If the Overseer is doing crazy experiments in the name of the Prime, people must know. If we are separated, make your way back to our camp, but don’t look back,” she paused. “You have done good work. Now, let us go.” She nodded at Isa, who took a strong stance several paces back from the iron doors while the others clustered behind her. She lowered the Foinse-rod, holding it two-handed like a sword, and activated both the rod and the crystals attached to the doors simultaneously. The crystals on the door exploded outwards, the force driving the doors, no longer secured on their hinges, out into the corridor beyond. Then, the blast wave from the Foinse-rod reached the doors. The wave had protected the group from the back blast of the crystals, and now threw the doors further down the corridor. Rika thought she heard surprised yells from beyond the flying doors as they flattened the group gathered outside of them.

“Take that, you sick, blood magic using bastards,” she muttered, and Isa grinned back at her.

Then there was no more time for banter. As the doors exploded outward, Syd shouted “GO!” and the group charged in behind them, Isa in front, keeping the blast wave moving down the corridor. They stepped quickly over the downed bodies. With a resounding crash, the door slammed into the far wall, and the group were out of the hallway and down the corridor in a flash, running flat out back towards the entrance. It was far too late for stealth. Speed was now all-important -- speed, and the glowing rod firmly clasped in Isa’s hand. Rika heard her wild laughter as the power rushed through her, and answered with her own. They were free.

Chapter 19 is here.