Jerem gazed out the window. “So you believe, as simple as a snap of fingers, the shade has been conquered. That which has lingered since the beginning of the world.” He shook his head. “You of all people should know things are never what they seem when it comes to the Tribunal.”
“I saw him defeat them with my own eyes. The man unleashed gigantic spirits that swept across Castere, destroying the shade and Voliny.”
“And this Voliny’s master? Did he defeat him too?”
“No, but with his armies gone, he’ll surely fall.”
That wispy white eyebrow rose. “Really? So a man or creature that this Ryne, who may indeed be a descendant of the Eztezians, could not defeat, will be beaten by us? A being who may be one of Amuni’s Skadwaz somehow here from Hydae? I taught you well, but in this one thing you allow your emotions to control your thoughts. Think. Sakari was a netherling. His presence here proves that not only have the seals on the Nether weakened, but so have the wards on the Kassite preventing man or beast from travelling between realms.”
Irmina hung her head. She hadn’t thought about all this. Her fists made an involuntary clench. All she wanted to do was avenge her family. Why was it proving so difficult?
Jerem’s berating continued. “Next, you will tell me we will defeat the gods when all the seals are broken and they come to claim what was once theirs.”
Shoulders sagging bonelessly, she looked up. “What do I do? If all this is going to happen, what can any of us do?”
A twinkle played across Jerem’s eyes. “You are a Raijin now. You will figure it out.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Have faith, I did say I taught you well. You have a mission to complete, and I need to leave this place before the Exalted send for me. I am sure they will follow the recommendations you made.”
Irmina’s eyes bulged. “I–I-I didn’t mean …”
“It is fine, my dear girl. You did what I expected. You had to pass your final test or else all I have put you through, all your training, would be for nothing.”
“Do you intend to try stop me?”
“Try?” Jerem gave her a bemused smile. “Nothing I do is try.”
For a moment, she tensed. If she must, she would find some way to defeat the old man, High Ashishin or not.
Jerem’s brow quirked once more. “To answer your question, I will do whatever is necessary for Denestia to survive another day.” Jerem held her gaze, eyes unwavering.
“What if that means killing me?”
Almost instantly, his face became blank.
The expression sent chills through her body. She used to think she could be cold-hearted, but those sudden dead eyes of Jerem’s, eyes that normally showed some kind of amusement, making him seem overly good-natured as if he found much in life comical, brought tiny bumps rising along her skin.
“Come, it is past time we leave.” Jerem spun and strode toward the thick oak door.
Irmina gazed at the crimson robes of her teacher’s back for a moment before turning her attention out the window. “Dear Ilumni,” she prayed, head bowed. “Please show me what I need to do.”
A sudden sense of inertia swept through her for a moment, and she reached a hand out to steady herself against the windowsill. A picture of Ancel bloomed in her mind along with the thousands upon thousands of pinpoints representing people drawn together in an intricate and incredibly powerful Forging. The image from the night when she killed Sakari. Why would that come to her now?
Frowning and thinking she needed rest after rushing across Ostania in chase of Ryne and then making her way to Jerem with few breaks in between, she straightened her clothes and followed her mentor.
Chapter 9
Nose upturned at the stench wafting from the giant, Shin Galiana inspected his body where he lay with his thighs hanging off the examination table. The artwork covering his body and armor bore an uncanny resemblance to those on Ancel, but even more detailed. Placing a hand on his chest served to remind her just how small she was compared to the man. No, small would be an understatement. Tiny was more apt.
The flesh appeared to have closed around the arrow, but without removing his armor, she was uncertain. The man also suffered from a severe case of frostbite concentrated in areas not covered by his tattoos.
Etchings, she reminded herself.
The word and the man’s size made her think not only of Ancel but also of her past. They both dredged up memories she thought she’d permanently buried. Painful ones. She eased her eyes closed, and told herself the woman she used to be no longer existed. The man she once loved was long gone, sacrificing himself for the greater good. Maybe a time would come for her to revisit those recollections, live that old hurt, and with it, revive her hope, but for now, she needed to concentrate on Ancel and his mentor.
The young man was concerned for the stranger’s well being. She sympathized. After all, despite the rigorous Mater training she was putting him through, coupled with the advanced sword work lessons given by Stefan, neither of them were able to teach him about the strange phenomenon etched into his skin. The artwork appeared innocent enough if a bit ominous in some places, but a netherling had bestowed them. She shook her head. A creature linked to the creation of the world itself. If she were any other person, she would have found the idea unbelievable.
Those old memories bubbled to the surface again as she recalled Etchings from other times in her life: from a Svenzar back when Nerian became the Shadowbearer, and even before that, when-. She forced the thought from her mind. As she’d done for innumerable years, she would act as if she had no knowledge of the events she did. In many respects, it was the only way to maintain her sanity.
At present, Ancel and his father waited outside the room. When she left, he’d been pacing anxiously. She smiled. Several months ago, she doubted if he would ever be like he once was, devouring his classes with fervor. But the combination of being hunted by the shade, the attack on Eldanhill, and his mother’s taking had changed him as drastically as Irmina abandoning his love. Unlike the pain wrought by Irmina’s loss, most of what he’d become was positive. He was once more dedicated to learning, following instructions in his classes, showing the ability to understand tiny nuances of Forging, and deciphering aspects of the lessons without detailed explanations. His skill with Forging had increased exponentially as had his swordsmanship. Ancel worked tirelessly at both, from the time the classes at the Mystera began in the morning until night. He never complained.
The smile dissolved into a frown as she considered his other side. A darker side. For a while, he’d used the emotions to spur him on and help hunt down the remaining shadelings in Whitewater Falls. Once that threat had been removed, however, he continued to venture into the forests and the mountains, often hunting animals. She recognized the craving at once. A need not just to lash out in anger, but to kill. Had he ever Forged when not within the control of the Eye? Had the essences within Mater already took their toll on him and began a chain of events from which there may be no return? Would Pathfinders arrive in Eldanhill to attempt to take him? At some point, she needed to be certain if the boy had surrendered to the promise of power only the strongest Matii heard. The chance of survival, if he had any, came down to avoiding the Tribunal and the Pathfinders. A daunting, near impossible task.
Shin Galiana chased the thoughts away and focused on the giant. First things first, she must help the boy obtain the necessary training. If what he said was true, before her lay the answers to the Etchings.