Revelation (Seeds of Humanity: The Cobalt Heresy) (30 page)

Co’Zar’I’Us expression was dark and thunderous. “I believe that would be wise.”

I snapped back to reality and looked quickly at Dancer, seeing that his body was completely healed. His chest had returned to its previous shape, and his breathing was clear and unlabored. There was even a faint, bluish glow to his skin which was rapidly fading.

I was momentarily amazed that I was still kneeling in the same position I had been in when contacting Co’Zar’I’Us. I still wasn’t sure exactly how it worked; had my consciousness been somehow transferred, or was the entire meeting and landscape some sort of illusion created by beings like the Cloud King? The fact that time actually did flow differently seemed to indicate that some sort of transfer occurred, but it was honestly outside the realm of what I considered important.

Dancer’s eyes snapped open a few seconds after I had returned, and his hand raised to his forehead. He brushed some of his own hair aside as he did so, and I could see a few sparkling grey-blue points on his skin there.

“Are you alright, Dancer?” I asked with genuine concern.

He nodded and lowered his hand, which he stared at in almost exactly the same way he had a few minutes before in Co’Zar’I’Us’ realm. The little man turned his hand over and looked at the back of it, then shook his head in wonderment.

“We need to go, Dancer,” I prompted, and he nodded his head again.

“Yes, Master,” he replied, slowly standing to his feet.

Pi’Vari chose that moment to interject himself into the conversation. “Would someone mind explaining exactly what just happened?” he asked, feigning something like exhaustion or overload.

I looked Dancer in the eyes and he smirked. Dancer had no great love for Pi’Vari, so I doubted he would want to do anything which would alleviate my herald’s confusion.

“Ask the little man,” I said, straightening myself. “Why? What did it look like?”

Pi’Vari threw his hands up in the air. “Best if we forget I asked,” he quipped.

I nodded sagely. “You’re probably right.”

I looked over to Baeld, who was holding Dancer’s spear, which I had only now learned was named Sky Splitter. Dancer strode confidently over to the giant, who was nearly twice his height and easily four times his weight without his armor on. He stopped just a foot away from Baeld’s spiked armor and looked up at the larger man with barely concealed rage.

Dancer held out his hand expectantly, and Baeld hesitated for a moment before returning the little man’s weapon to its rightful owner.

Dancer turned the spear over in his hands, inspecting it for damage. Apparently satisfied that all was as it should be, he glared at Baeld one more time before spinning the spear over in his hands in a blur of motion. In fact, it seemed as though he was a little faster than the last time he had performed such a display. Dancer engaged in daily calisthenics every morning at dawn, when circumstances permitted, and he had a few very specific ‘dances’ he would perform with his beloved weapon.

He began to engage in one such dance right there in the middle of the vault, and while I really wanted to get out, I was fascinated by the little man’s apparently improved grace and coordination as he looked to have cut a considerable amount of time off the usual time required to complete this particular sequence.

Dancer came to the end of the familiar display with the spear snaking up and around his shoulders, from one hand to the next, lashing this way and that until it came to the final maneuver which called for the spear to be spun end-over-end as he spun around and caught the weapon behind his back like something you would see in the circus.

The spear went into the air and he whirled into position a bit too quickly, throwing off his timing and for the first time since I had seen his impressive ‘dances,’ he dropped the spear and it clattered to the ground.

We were all shocked, even Pi’Vari who always made a show of disregard for the incredible displays of agility and coordination. I probably could have heard a pin drop as Dancer turned around in confusion and looked down at the weapon. After a few silent moments he retrieved the spear and turned it over in his hands.

At that moment, I felt a tremor which barely shook the ground beneath us.

“We really need to get going,” I prompted. “Our opening of the vault might have initiated some kind of chain reaction which will bury this chamber under a hundred feet of rock.”

That seemed to spur everyone into action, and within a few minutes we had all climbed the staircase and made our way out of the cellar. The tremors continued and strengthened, until by the time we had reached the top of the stairs there was dust falling from between every stone.

The snow storm had actually stopped, confirming my suspicion that we had actually deactivated something significant within the manor house’s grounds. The ground was still covered in a foot-thick blanket of snow, with the only visibly markings being our own footprints along the wall.

There was a loud cracking noise from inside the house, and we collectively jumped in surprise, except Baeld of course who dispassionately looked up at the building. A few stones began to fall from the top of the building, which prompted us to run away from the crumbling building as quickly as we could.

When we had gotten about fifty yards from the structure, we turned and watched it disintegrate into a pile of rubble over the course of about thirty seconds, which was an impressive thing to watch. I had seen stock footage of the old stadium in Seattle being imploded, which was obviously a more impressive display but there was something tragic about seeing a stone building which should have stood for hundreds, or even thousands of years crumbling in front of my very eyes. It was an image which would burn itself into my mind for the rest of my life.

After the structure had settled into a fairly uniform pile of rubble, I opened my pack and withdrew the two small bundles which contained the raw mythicite I had promised to Co’Zar’I’Us. I carefully unwrapped the spherical housing, which was made of a special kind of ceramic I had never seen before that glinted in the sunlight as though it had bits of metal in it.

I hoped that all I would have to do was touch the stuff in order to initiate the transfer, but I doubted it would be that easy. I removed the lid-like section from the ball and stuck my fingertips into the shimmering, dust-like material before closing my eyes and summoning Co’Zar’I’Us’ name into my mind.

The spell appeared in my mind’s eye, and I tried to will something to happen, and for a moment nothing did.

But then my hand got hot, and I looked down to see smoke rising from the container. I closed my eyes and focused on directing the energy into the spell, even though I had no idea how to do that.

The spell seemed to roll over in my mind, and it felt like a race against the growing heat caused by contact between the mythicite and my skin.

Then the spell seemed to reconfigure itself slightly, and the heat shot up my arm and exploded throughout the rest of my body. Rather than reducing the burning pain, I had intensified it tenfold, but I could see a silvery glow throughout my mind’s eye which seemed to form a vortex within the spell that resembled a whirlpool.

After a few agonizing seconds, the sensation disappeared and the spell disappeared from my mind’s eye.

I looked into the container and saw that it was empty, save for a small bit of metallic dust at the bottom. I breathed a sigh of relief and briefly considered holding the second cup back until later, but then I decided it was best to do as I had agreed.

I repeated the process, and this time it was significantly less painful for some reason. Nothing else seemed different, but after no more than five seconds of intense heat, the second container of mythicite was empty.

My companions were looking at me with varying degrees of interest, with Baeld and Pi’Vari occupying opposite ends of the spectrum, naturally.

“I have never seen that particular ritual enacted in person,” admitted Pi’Vari with clear interest. “You seemed to be in pain for a moment,” he pressed in mock concern.

I stuffed the empty globes back in my pack and shook my head. “Not really,” I lied, “it was just a little surprising. I probably would have liked it if I had known what to expect,” I finished with my best straight face. I really hoped he believed me and that I would have occasion to let him have his own experience with mythicite sometime in the near future.

We gathered our horses, who had understandably spooked and scattered when the house had collapsed and made our way off the ruined grounds.

Chapter XIX: The Next Step

I knew I couldn’t cast the spell detailed in the book on my own, and I sure as hell didn’t want to go back to Veldyrian, so figuring out our next move was something of a dilemma. Ultimately, I decided it was best if we made our way back to Coldetz.

I couldn’t help but think I had made a mistake by striking my bargain with Co’Zar’I’Us, but it was hard to argue that there was another way to save Dancer’s life. If the choice had been mine, I doubt I would have accepted the Cloud King’s offer, but there was no way to say for certain without actually going through it. I seriously hoped that I would never find a definitive answer to that particular question.

So we re-mounted our horses and rode toward Coldetz, which was increasingly feeling like the closest thing I had to a home.

I studied the spell tome every opportunity I got, trying to figure out what the exact purpose of the spell actually was. It was clear that there were several components of the complete ritual, and that these components might actually be used independently of each other under certain circumstances.

The first part of the ritual seemed to deal with, for lack of a better word, sundering a person’s consciousness into several fragments which could survive indefinitely without the presence of the others. I doubted it was anything like the process used to create Baeld or Gaeld, but it was more than a little disturbing to think about a person’s identity being reduced to its component parts.

There were explanations of how the psyche should be separated, with the most important aspect being that it required centering each new ‘shard’ of the previously whole personality on a single, driving force or characteristic. Some possible characteristics which would serve as acceptable ‘anchor points’—as they were referred to a few times—were pride, ambition, compassion and patience, along with an assortment of other examples.

But the part I focused on most was the Somnomancy section of the ritual, which I found to be more than a little disturbing. Apparently, this particular expression of Dream Magic was more than just that; it delved into the transference of consciousness from one person’s body to another’s, even across great distances.

Nothing was mentioned of what would happen to the target’s body, or to the new host body’s previous consciousness for that matter, and that was the most disturbing part. There were ominous references to ‘establishing control,’ as well as ‘inducing a persistent dream-like state to facilitate the transfer,’ the ramifications of which chilled me to the bone.

It took days of examination just to learn that much, and without reference materials like those in Master Antolin’s private library I was unlikely to learn anything else of value from continued study.

And that was looking more and more like my next stop, the prospect of which carried with it problems almost too numerable to list, in my opinion. But the top issues were definitely clear in my mind.

First, Pi’Vari would be free to report to whoever it was he might be working for, which would almost certainly bring about both immediate and long-term consequences. Under different circumstances I would have viewed re-entering Veldyrian as an opportunity to discover his true master’s identity, but I knew there was no way I would have time to pursue that particular issue.

Second, I would have to make Coldetz’s mythicite a matter of Imperial record, which could bring with it an avalanche of paperwork that could very well tie me down for weeks—assuming I was able to avoid the inevitable pitfalls that Veldyrian’s bureaucracy threw my way.

Third, I knew that bringing Baeld into the gates would cause its own mess of paperwork, which said nothing of Arch Magos Rekir’s inevitable interest given how hard he had pushed to acquire Gaeld. I had already met that proverbial dragon in its lair and survived to tell about it, and while I had no desire to repeat the experience it looked like he would have to be my first stop.

Fourth, I would have to answer for Antolin’s disappearance to the powers that be—which essentially meant answering to Arch Magos Rekir. Fortunately, House Wiegraf was a less-than-notable house, having earned only one selection in the annual draft during its entire history. But there would still be official inquests, not to mention the issue of tending to House Wiegraf’s finances and other dealings—like those with House Listoh, who in certain matters was House Wiegraf’s partner in practice, if not in name. I was unclear just how far that relationship extended into our affairs, but it was highly probable that I was soon going to learn.

So I made my plan and wasted no time in gathering my cadre to present them with our latest course of action.

“We are leaving Baeld?” blurted Pi’Vari incredulously. “You may as yet be unaware,” he continued sarcastically, “but he has proven quite useful, and you are currently without a Champion. Aemir’s absence will cause enough questions by itself, but for an adventuring Imperial Wizard to be seen without his Champion would not only be a serious breach of protocol; it would provide a tempting target for your enemies which they could not resist!”

I nodded slowly, having heard my herald say absolutely nothing I had not already considered. “Baeld stays in Coldetz,” I replied adamantly.

Pi’Vari shook his head repeatedly. “You will not survive a week in Veldyrian without a worthy Champion to dissuade challenges from your rivals,” he pleaded. “If you fall,
all
of us fall—along with House Wiegraf!”