RE: Monarch

Instead, I needed to think, to analyze. The ringing in my ears faded as quickly as it had appeared. Either Thoth wanted me to know she was here or she had simply slipped. I wasn’t nearly enough of a fool to believe it was the former.

I reached for Vogrin, drawing on the ambient mana of the sanctum and feeling the power flood me—but I stopped myself short of summoning him. The barrier had activated shortly after we had entered. The events that had led to my acquisition of a greater demon were practically unknown. Assuming Thoth knew everything was short-sighted. She knew much, but assuming omniscience was little more than folly. In the all-too-likely possibility we were still being watched, the last thing I wanted to do this early was tip my hand.

Rather than call him forth, I tilted my head down, so my soft voice carried towards the amulet. “Vogrin. Did you feel that? Something like an aura?”

The amulet pulsed with a single surge of heat. Yes.

“That’s her. Any chance you could track her from that initial contact?” I asked.

The response was slower this time. Cold. Hesitant no.

“But you’d know what to look for from her mana signature? Same as you did with Bacchus?”

Yes.

Good. I left him be. Jorra had taken his place beside me, angling so he was facing the opposite direction of Bell, manner so casual he could have been looking to simply take in the scenery. Bell’s easygoing expression was banished, her shoulders set slight forward, eyes sliding across the landscape in quick horizontal patterns, looking for any aberration or movement.

It had been the right decision to warn them, all those months ago. To tell them who I was up against and that it was entirely possible we would run into her. To have that possibility color every practice session, every meditation.

“The look on your face could frighten children,” Jorra commented over his shoulder.

“What do I look like?” I asked, only half-paying attention to the response.

“Scary,” Bell said.

“Like we’re not the ones who just stumbled into the trap,” Jorra said.

----

The mood at the Heart was one of barely restrained panic. People milled through the camp, teenagers, conservators, and few elders moving in patterns not unlike pacing, stopping every so often to look towards the sealed passage in the distance, though it was too far to see, as if wanting to be ready for the moment the forcefield lifted.

The Heart itself reminded me of one of my father’s siege camps. Sprawling and massive with tents and plywood, but ultimately flat, with a temporary air that overtook the area itself.

Jorra and Bellarex left to grab our spots in the barracks while I walked around the periphery of the camp, looking for Maya.

An older infernal—my initial guess putting him around nineteen—was rushed passed me on a stretcher. He moaned, head tilted down to look at his arm. Or where his arm used to be, at least: the appendage had been, lacking a better word, unraveled, strings of flesh and putrefied bone dangling from his forearm down like the tendrils of a jellyfish.

“The hells happened to him?” I asked aloud to no one in particular.

“He’s an aegis breaker,” a voice said to my left. Another older boy. He had the thin, gaunt sort of face that artists favor, features that would normally pass as conventionally attractive now looked hollowed out and haunted. He reached to brush a tuft of hair out of his forehead and left a streak of blood across his brow. I noticed, belatedly, that he was covered in it.

“Your teammate?” I asked, keeping my voice down.

“Yes,” he said flatly, his eyes wide. “He said he could break the barrier. He doesn’t have a lot of time left, none of us do.”

“Can you tell me what you mean by that?” I prompted gently.

He looked at me funny and seemed to give me a once over, as if realizing I was human for the first time. “Oh, you’re the...”

“Cairn.”

“Zorros,” he said, automatically, “We’re supposed to leave a no later than three months before our twentieth name-day. We pushed it. Everyone does.”

The seriousness of the problem dawned on me later than it should have. “How much time do you have?”

“A little less than two weeks before Sirxes passed the point of no return, and I’m only a month behind him. But we made it back with plenty of time to spare and were on our way out…” he trailed off.

“And he panicked and thought he could break the barrier.” I finished.

“His confidence wasn’t foolishness. I’ve seen him break ancient spell work. Complicated stuff. And for a minute, it looked like he was making progress. But the second he reached forward to break it. Well, it didn’t go well.”

I realized that I’d seen them earlier. I hadn’t paid much attention, but we’d passed their group going towards the barrier on our way into town. They’d sprinted passed us, looking concerned but confident. That confidence was obliterated now.

A forcefield that toyed and retaliated against anyone trying to dismantle it? Thoth might as well have signed her name. I wanted to know more about it. Most importantly, how long it could stay up, but the one person who could give me more information was laid out on a cot in what had to be excruciating pain.

Idly, trying to collect my thoughts into something that resembled a course of action, I followed Zorros as he approached the medical tent his friend had been rushed into.

An infernal in the ornate robe of a conservator shook his head. “It’s standard procedure. No one’s allowed in while the life magician is working.”

“He’s terrified and in pain,” Zorros said, “Can’t I just sit in quietly? I won’t get in the way.”

The conservator’s face scrunched, sympathetic but firm. “It’s really not allowed.”

I caught a glimpse of movement within the tent. Maya was wearing a white smock that covered her typically austere garb, and took a step back, wiping the sweat from her forehead carefully with her forearm so as not to contaminate her hands.

Then like she sensed my presence, she shifted towards me, her face lighting in a tired smile, then growing serious again. “You have wonderful timing, Ni’lend. I could use an extra pair of hands.”

The conservator stepped aside, no longer obstructing entry. I glanced over at Zorros. “Any chance you need two pairs of hands?”

“No. Just you for now.” Maya said, either too distracted to pick up on the implication or ignoring it. I clasped Zorros on the shoulder apologetically and entered the tent.

I was surprised to see the progress, or rather, the lack of it. In all the instances Maya had healed me, the effect had been expedient, wounds closing and skin knitting in a matter of minutes.

Sirxes had passed out on the medical cot, his expression almost passing for peaceful had it not been for his labored, shuddering breaths. Maya passed me a bowl with a damp cloth draped over the side.

“Keep his forehead cool. I don’t like how hot he’s running,” Maya said.

I obliged, positioning myself on the opposite side of the cot from the injured arm, giving Maya as much space as possible, watching, fascinated as she strung the gory mess that had once been an arm back together into something that almost resembled one. Tiny strings that literally tied flesh together glowed green as she channeled mana through them, eventually fading, leaving checker-boarded flesh that looked unhealthy and abused, but ultimately whole. The hand, however, was still a ruined mess. Maya picked up his arm and shifted it.

“Lord below,” Maya muttered. “Practically no bone to work with.” I remembered back to the time she’d had to physically set my arm, unable to rely on her powers to do it. Bone seemed to be a limiting factor.

“Probably intentional.” I mused aloud.

“What?” Maya’s head snapped up. “This is horrible. Who would do this intentionally?” It was the first time her clinical dispassion had broken, and she showed any emotion reaction to the injury.

I brought her up to speed, mind still racing as I finished my theory.

“From anyone else, I would assume paranoia, but…”

“Yeah.” I said.

“Well, this is the most that I can do, for now. The arm is one thing, but I don’t trust myself to get a complicated restructure of the hand right with this little material to build from.” Maya didn’t bother trying to hide her anger. “She really intends to dog you at every turn. For someone with such large-scale goals, she is certainly petty.”

I shook my head. “I’m not sure if that’s right. I’ve had some time to think about it. Thoth didn’t bother with the enclave. She set herself up to be positioned to take it, sans interference, but in the end, she let it go. If she’s been waiting, I have to assume it’s for another reason.”

“And that reason is?” Maya asked.

“That’s what I need to find out.” I looked over to the infernal laid out on the cot. His breathing seemed steadier than before. Perhaps whatever anesthetic he had been given was finally kicking in. “Any chance I can talk to him?”

“He’s stable, but it’s not a good idea.” I thought that would be the end of it, but to my surprise, Maya reached up towards his neck, her fingers glowing. “Which means we need to do it now. Before the medical conservator gets back.”

----

When I went out to check, Zorros was still waiting outside, arms crossed, chewing on the black nail of his index finger. The nail looked well-worn and dented, as if it was a frequent habit of his. He murmured a quiet thanks as I brought him in and sat on the other side of his fellow, hand on the other boy’s good arm.

Sirxes tried to answer questions. He was clearly distracted, gaze flickering time and time again to the oversized bandage that covered his ruined hand.

I questioned him quickly, trying to keep his focus on me rather than the fact that he could no longer move or feel his fingers. The forcefield was complex, but simple enough that it could be powered for quite some time. The mana battery could be practically anywhere, though the further away it was, the less power efficient the connection would be. When I asked him where he would place such a source, he grimly commented that the most ideal place would be nearby—hundreds of feet underground. The purpose and construction of the forcefield was simple, it was the secondary attributes that were insidious. Some sort dampening void effect that specifically targeted earth magic, making tunneling around or under it practically impossible.

When I asked him how long something like that could realistically be sustained, his answer was as grim as it was brief. Depending on the power source, almost indefinitely. The construction of the spell itself coming unraveled would become a problem before running out of power did, and that could take ten years. Knowing that it was likely Thoth, I mentally doubled that number. There were other entrances to the sanctum from neighboring cloisters, but the path to those was fraught with danger and treacherous at best, impassable at worst.

Perhaps I was overreacting and the barrier would be gone in a day or two, but somehow I doubted it. This situation felt engineered to go sideways. I needed to know why Thoth was here. But more importantly, I needed to start planning for the immediate future. The conversation lasted less than an hour before a voice boomed out, coming from nowhere and everywhere all at once.

Children of the sanctum. Congratulations. You have the unique opportunity to rectify the sins of your fathers.

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