The Light of All That Falls, page 56
He toyed with it, trying to refine his interactions but still unable to manipulate the energy with any sort of truly delicate touch. The skin on his right wrist pulsed in reaction to his concentration, and he wondered again if he had advanced far enough to deconstruct and improve further upon that Vessel. It was his smallest version yet of the very large, very basic stone Vessel that he had made at the beginning—the one that had given him infinitely more focus, allowing him to manipulate kan with any finesse at all. That had taken him a month of sweat and practice and pure frustration to build.
After it had been constructed, though, things had gone much more smoothly.
“Don’t push it,” said Tal, noting Davian’s wrist lighting up. “I know that thing gives you headaches.”
Davian conceded the point reluctantly and deactivated the Vessel, letting kan slip through his fingers once again. It was unhealthy to increase his focus too much or for too long: the effect of the Vessel was more intense than what Tal had done to him in Deilannis, and while his mind was incredibly sharp when he used it to its full potential, doing so also often left him weary for hours after.
Tal watched him, then glanced out the window. “Probably time to visit Raeleth.” He pushed up his sleeve, studying the three bands concealed there. They were ornately made, each a delicate pattern of swirls and slashes. “That man takes far too much pride in his work,” he added absently.
Davian gave a small smile at that as he stared at the bands. One for invisibility, one for more efficient manipulation of Essence, one for strength. Davian had those Vessels, too—though his were built into his own body. Each one had been created first within stone, then made into a wearable, thoroughly tested Vessel before he had dared set it into his own flesh. But so far, at least, their presence hadn’t caused any ill effects.
In addition to those, he’d constructed a Vessel within himself that he could use a simple physical motion to activate, one that allowed him to draw Essence from his surroundings. It wasn’t perfect—it wouldn’t discriminate between a plant and a person, for example, and it still required him being able to move to initiate the process—but it was reassuring to have. If he was ever stopped from manipulating kan again, at least he had another way to stay alive.
“You coming?” asked Tal as he stood, stretching and glancing out the window as last bell echoed through the crater.
Davian followed his gaze. “Ah. That time already.” He frowned. “But wait. Then why would you need to visit… oh.”
Tal grinned. “Exactly.”
Davian grinned back; he sent a sliver of Essence to the Initiation endpoint of his invisibility Vessel, and then trailed after Tal out of the room and down the stairs.
Davian barely glanced at the group of Gifted lying on the mats by the portal as they passed, no longer concerned that they might somehow detect his presence. There were eleven other prisoners aside from Tal, Niha, and Raeleth, all Gifted who now took shifts to supply Essence to the tower. A few had previously worked the forge, but since Raeleth had arrived, it was Niha who largely provided the Essence needed for that process.
The group mostly ignored Tal and Niha, these days, and Raeleth by extension. Though clearly acrimony remained, it seemed that they had finally acknowledged how important Tal’s contributions were to keeping Zvaelar from complete collapse.
Either that or, as Tal himself had pointed out, they had simply accepted that they wouldn’t be able to kill him. Either way, the two groups kept well out of one another’s way. Davian still didn’t even know the names of some of the Gifted.
The walk from the tower to the forge was a short one, Davian trying to ignore the moat of al’goriat milling only twenty feet away. The number of creatures patrolling the tower’s perimeter had grown significantly over the past four months.
The steady ringing of hammer against metal was audible soon enough, smoke emerging from one of the bloomeries Raeleth had had set up since his arrival. Raeleth, it had turned out, was by far a more experienced metalworker than any of the Gifted here. He’d taken to his new role easily.
He still made himself scarce on the odd occasion a dar’gaithin came to check on things, but he’d been seen by the creatures a few times in the distance and never been questioned. The Banes knew that the metal needed working; as long as it got done, they didn’t seem to care overly much who was doing it.
Davian and Tal rounded the closest wall, and Davian deactivated his invisibility Vessel. Raeleth was hard at work, shirtless as he alternately worked the forge and then the metal. Niha stood over to the side, sweat on her brow too, assisting with long-handled tools.
Raeleth wiped at his grimy forehead and grinned as Tal and Davian came into view. “Gentlemen,” he said with a cheerful nod.
Davian nodded back, glad as always to see Raeleth in such a fine mood. He enjoyed this work, even if Davian knew he still felt guilty about leaving the scavenging crews behind.
“Anything new for us?” asked Tal, after quickly checking that none of the other Gifted were around. They had been careful in their acquisition of metal destined for Ilshan Gathdel Teth. If anyone found out that they were taking it—especially if they found out that it was for Tal—then there was a good chance they would inform one of the dar’gaithin.
Raeleth shook his head. “The amount of scrap coming in is getting low,” he admitted. “I’m not sure we can get away with filching much more.”
Davian observed the exchange curiously. There was still a vague underlying tension to all Raeleth and Tal’s interactions, even if it was barely there anymore, not visible unless you were looking for it. Davian wasn’t sure if Raeleth considered Tal a friend—he didn’t think that would ever happen, really—but he had seemed to at least accept that Tal was trying to do the right thing.
Tal reluctantly accepted the statement. “Let us know if you think you can get more.” He turned to Niha. “Thought we might find you here,” he added, giving a deliberately knowing smirk across at the woman, who had until now been standing silently to the side.
Niha flushed slightly at his look, glaring at him as if daring him to say more.
Davian restrained a grin.
Raeleth and Niha had seemed a… strange pairing, at first. The quiet but intense man’s demeanor, combined with Niha’s blunt, ruthless streak, had felt destined to end in disaster.
But, somehow, it was working. Davian had seen Niha and Raeleth together more often than he could count, often with heads bowed close, deep in discussion. Sometimes—to both Davian’s and Tal’s shock—they had even caught Niha laughing at something Raeleth had said, though she’d always replaced her mirth with a glower when she’d noticed them watching.
Still, actually mentioning the clearly blossoming relationship between the two was something no one was willing to do. Not with Niha within earshot, at least.
“You go ahead. I’ll be there in a few minutes,” said Niha eventually, wiping her hands and shooting Raeleth a smile—something she only ever seemed to do for him. Tal watched in open amusement, then turned to Raeleth.
“Tomorrow?” he asked.
Raeleth nodded immediately. “Of course.” He looked questioningly at Davian. “You’re welcome to come too, you know.”
Davian shook his head, waving his hand apologetically. “Study.” Tal had been scheduling more and more time to talk with Raeleth about religion—arguing El, fate, morality. They were interesting conversations, but… heavy. Requiring the sort of concentration that Davian needed to reserve for studying kan, at the moment. “Another time.”
Raeleth dipped his head again, letting the matter drop. Davian always appreciated that. Raeleth would never give up on trying to teach him, but he was never going to pressure Davian into being taught, either.
Davian and Tal started back, and Davian cast a curious glance across at his friend.
“You and Raeleth seem to be getting along,” he observed.
“He has never been anything but civil,” agreed Tal, “and he is… intent on educating me in areas where he believes I am lacking. About which he may be right,” he conceded. “But it remains a task, for him. A project, rather than a friendship.” He shrugged. “He cannot be blamed for that. And it has been… instructive.”
Davian cocked his head to the side. “I thought you’d read his writings. The ones that established the resistance in Ilshan Gathdel Teth.” After the first month of gradually building trust, Raeleth had finally admitted to what Tal had suspected from the beginning—that he had, in fact, been responsible for the treatise that the resistance in Ilshan Gathdel Teth apparently still referenced. Raeleth himself, though, had never been aware of its popularity, despite Tal’s admitting that its growing recognition had been the reason Raeleth was thrown into Zvaelar in the first place.
Tal gave a rueful nod. “I did. Many years ago.”
Davian shook his head. “They obviously didn’t sway you then, so what’s changed?”
“Me, I suppose.” Tal shrugged at Davian’s look. “Sometimes it’s not the message. It’s the timing.”
They headed back to their room in the tower, but after perhaps ten minutes of casual conversation, Tal cast a vaguely irritated look at the door.
“Niha’s taking too long.”
Davian smirked. “Are you going to be the one to point that out to her?”
Tal chuckled but shook his head. “We’re going to be late for our shift,” he said, glancing out the window at the red-painted landscape. “Interested in some more exercise?”
Davian stretched. “I won’t say no.” He could theoretically go outside whenever he wanted, so long as he had the invisibility Vessel activated, but the slight added risk always made it hard to justify.
They made their way back toward the forge, the tension of raised voices reaching Davian’s ears at the same time as Tal’s.
“Trouble,” murmured Tal, moving quickly and noiselessly toward the sound, clearly assuming that Davian would follow. The two of them stole toward the wall of the forge, angry words beginning to resolve themselves.
“You are mistaken,” Niha was saying, her voice a mixture of desperation and cold fury. “Raeleth was brought here by Athsissis. How in El’s name else would he have come to be here?”
“Athsissis would have informed me,” hissed a voice, one that sent a chill down Davian’s spine. The dar’gaithin tended to sound very similar to one another, but he recognized this one. “Instead, I believed this man was dead.”
“Then why don’t you ask him why he didn’t tell you?” came Raeleth’s voice, trying to sound casual but with an unmistakable underlying tension.
“Athsissis has been missing for months,” replied Isstharis. Davian was certain it was the dar’gaithin from the scavengers’ section now. “And I am running out of experienced workers. He is coming with me.”
“Just let him go, Niha.” The new voice—a male’s—dripped with self-satisfaction. Davian didn’t recognize it, but he saw Tal’s scowl as his friend obviously did.
Davian peered around the corner, certain he wouldn’t be seen thanks to his invisibility Vessel.
Raeleth stood by a still-hot forge, a long pair of tongs in his hand, looking a mixture of shocked and resigned. Niha stood between him and Isstharis, whose tail flicked back and forth in clear irritation. To the side a short, middle-aged man with watery eyes watched. Davian recognized him as one of the Gifted prisoners, though he didn’t know his name.
Niha’s gaze flicked to the stranger. “I know you did this, Ayron. I will deal with you soon enough,” she said softly, ice in every word. “But for now”—she turned back to Isstharis—“no. You cannot have him. I will not allow it.”
Tal moved, pushing past Davian—clumsily, as he’d had no way of knowing exactly where Davian was—and striding out into the open.
“What is the problem, Isstharis?”
The dar’gaithin faltered when it saw who had arrived, though its aggressive demeanor quickly reasserted itself. “There is not a problem, Tal’kamar. I am simply taking this man back to assist in scavenging.”
“Out of the question.” Tal’s voice was calm. “He is too valuable here. Your removing him would slow production significantly.”
No one spoke as Isstharis evidently considered.
“As will not having any metal to forge,” hissed the creature eventually, shaking its head. “This is not a negotiation, Tal’kamar. Step aside. Both of you.” She stared at Tal. “You know the consequences of trying to kill me. There are far more lives at stake than this one. So just let me—”
Niha’s spear was flicking out from her side, glowing.
It took Isstharis through the mouth before Davian even realized what was happening.
He watched, wide-eyed in shock as the dar’gaithin flew backward through the air, propelled by the flying projectile until the Bane struck the side of the forge with a resounding crash, the quivering spear jutting from the back of its head and pinning it firmly to the brick.
“Niha!” It was Tal, staring at the woman in horror.
“You idiot,” hissed Ayron. “We can’t afford to kill them!”
Niha ignored him. “You said we get out of here. I figured it was time to trust you,” she said softly to Tal.
“Um,” said Raeleth nervously from behind them, still holding the tongs. He pointed with them.
Davian looked in the direction he was indicating, heart lurching.
The al’goriat were gathering, teeth bared, growling and slavering at the very edge of where they were allowed to go.
“Davian,” Tal murmured. “I don’t think that they can come any closer, but still. I don’t suppose you would like to step in right around now?”
Davian nodded, even though Tal wouldn’t be able to see. He activated his focus Vessel and then grasped kan, quickly but carefully extending a kan shield around the other four, hiding them—and Isstharis’s corpse—from the al’goriats’ view. It was a simple enough use of kan, though such a large shield was something he hadn’t had to create in a while.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Ayron turn as if to flee.
“Don’t move.” Tal’s voice cracked out like a whip.
Ayron wavered, and Davian could see the deep fear in his eyes, but some part of the man recognized that none of the others were moving, either. He closed his eyes and stayed still.
The al’goriat continued to snarl and watch but the sounds were confused now; more of the creatures blinked over from elsewhere to join the initial group, only to blink away again moments later, seeing nothing of interest. The Banes growled and sniffed, and a few shrieked angrily, but none broke the invisible barrier that separated them from the tower’s surroundings.
Finally, they quietened. Began blinking away and resuming their lumbering, random patrols. Davian watched for a few more seconds, then carefully lowered the kan shield again.
Nothing happened.
“What in fates?” murmured Ayron, staring with a mixture of utter relief and complete bafflement at the creatures. He turned his gaze to Tal, apparently singling him out as responsible. “How did you do that, Devaed?”
Tal ignored him, walking over to Niha and Raeleth. “We’ll need to get rid of the body,” he said, jerking his head toward Isstharis.
“Devaed!” Ayron strode toward him, angrily now. “Do you know something the rest of us don’t about these creatures? I demand—”
He cut off with a gurgle as Niha’s spear ripped free of Isstharis’s corpse and blurred at the Gifted, the black-blooded tip coming to a stop inches from his throat and hovering there menacingly.
“You.” Niha’s eyes held murder as she walked toward Ayron. “You brought Isstharis here. You’ve been looking for a way to get back at me, and so you thought you could do this?” Her voice shook with rage.
Ayron blanched. “I didn’t—”
Niha’s spear blurred, curving in an arc and smashing down hard on Ayron’s arm. The man screamed as something cracked; he fell to the ground and the spear flipped again, hovering above his heart.
Niha raised her hand.
“Niha.”
Raeleth’s voice cut through the shocked silence. The woman stopped with her spear still held high, then turned.
“He tried to have you taken away. Out of petty spite.”
“Then he is to be pitied,” said Raeleth quietly. “Not killed.”
Niha’s lips pressed into a thin line. She turned back to Ayron, studying the man.
She gestured again.
The spear snapped back into her hand.
Ayron breathed out as the woman stalked away, but his relief was short-lived as Tal took her place, looming over the Gifted.
“The relationship that you tried to exploit is what just saved you. From me, as well as her,” he said softly. “But rest assured that if you say anything about this—if you try anything like this again—nothing will be able to dissuade me from ending you. Understood?”
Davian felt a chill as he watched. The words were delivered with a heavy menace that he wouldn’t have thought possible from Tal. A promise of violence that lay just beneath the surface.
Ayron nodded, wide-eyed, but Tal was already striding away.
Davian swallowed, then hurried after him silently.
Chapter 35
First bell had just rung when Davian slipped around the corner of the forge, as always a little tense despite knowing that no one could see him.
It was the morning after the incident with Isstharis, and from everything he’d seen so far, there had been no serious consequences from the Bane’s death. Still, he’d woken to find Tal sleeping and Niha gone, and had felt in need of some conversation rather than a leap straight back into his studies. Raeleth, thankfully, was always a willing ear.
To his surprise, voices floated out to him as he approached.
“What about Jordyn? Like the hero of the Five Reeds—bravest man to have ever lived,” said Raeleth.
“Never heard of him. Next!” Davian gave a small start as he realized it was Niha’s voice. It was almost unrecognizably light and cheerful. Playful.
