“I think the tincture you’re making will be weak level Bronze. In terms of potency. Your classmates at the Academy receive a filtered pill each morning, if not better, but their baseline should be minimal Copper. Each spoonful that you take of this mixture will be twenty times stronger than what they usually receive.”
“Good to hear,” he said quietly. “I need to catch up.”
“There’s another reason I haven’t taken the Sapphire vials,” she said. “Nor given one to you. Do you know how many times more powerful one of those vials is than your Bronze-level spoonsful?”
Scorio stiffened. “I—no. How many?”
“The whole vial, if it’s base Sapphire, is fifty times more potent than the poison you’ll be taking. Do you know what would happen if you drank it?”
“No,” he said quietly, staring at her intently.
“Your Heart is that of a Cinder, and though it’s strong and unusually deep, I reckon it can’t comfortably hold half of one of your pills. The rest, when you eat it, will simply stretch your Heart and then dissipate.”
Scorio nodded.
“If you were to drink that vial? Your Heart might sunder, and the vast majority of the Sapphire mana would be wasted. The same, unfortunately, goes for me.”
“I’ve got to increase the amount of mana I can hold in my Heart till I can barely ignite,” said Scorio softly, desperately not wanting to wake her from this pensive state and have her change the subject. “What do you have to do?”
“I have to condense my Heart back to its former size, and in so doing return to my former ignition point.” Her smile was bitter. “Over the past few years I’ve made some advances in that direction—my Heart is no longer this vast and unwieldy object I can barely control. But it’s still far from where it was before I made Emberling.”
“Oh.” Scorio leaned his head back against the wall. “Condense. So you retain the capacity but decrease the mass?”
“Something like that. You have what’s called a reservoir within your Heart. That’s what holds the mana and dictates the amount you can hold. You’re seeking to expand your reservoir as much as you can to increase the amount of mana you can drink at the cost of being able to ignite quickly. I’m trying to squeeze it back into a regular-sized Igneous Heart while retaining the amount I can absorb and regain my original reactivity. Once it reaches maximum density, your trial triggers.”
“I see.” Scorio nodded slowly. “So you don’t even really need the high-quality mana at this stage. You just need to work on your control over your Heart.”
“True.” Her expression was melancholy as she gazed out over the ruins. “I may not even be able to use it till I make Tomb Spark. But then it will prove vital if I’m to reach Flame Vault.”
“And that is—?”
“None of your business,” she said, voice sharpening. “How did we get on that topic? I was trying to tell you something about your elixirs. There’s no sense in keeping the toxin level high if you’re still going to vent most of the mana each time you consume it.”
“I disagree.” Scorio sat up. “My Heart has to grow used to the strain. The more I strain it, the faster and larger it will grow.”
“At the expense of its integrity, your health, and your sanity.”
He shrugged. “I’ll make sure I don’t go too far.”
“Why don’t I believe you? Still, it’s your Heart and body. You’re meeting your friends tomorrow, are you not?”
“That’s right.”
Naomi nodded and looked away.
“How about this?” Scorio shifted his weight where he sat. “Bring the—what are we calling it? Syrup? To my place tomorrow at First Rust. That’s when Leonis and Lianshi will be arriving. You can simply meet them, and if you don’t like what you see, we’ll say you just came by to drop off the mana. But if you feel more comfortable, you can come with us to the Academy.”
“I don’t need my hand held,” she snapped.
“Of course you don’t. Just an idea.” And sensing that her mood was turning sour, he rose smoothly to his feet. “Thank you for the help with the syrup. It’s truly appreciated. See you tomorrow morning?”
“Perhaps.” She made no move to rise nor look his way.
“Great. Until then.”
He entered her chamber, took a detour to peer into her pot, then let himself out her door and back into the stairwell.
Humming to himself, he skipped lightly down the stairs. Everything was falling into place. The syrup would give him the raw power he needed, the Gauntlet was proving to be the perfect source of tension and training, and his friendship with Leonis, Lianshi, and Naomi meant that he no longer felt alone in the world.
Everything was starting to look up.
Better yet, tomorrow was the Eighthday, which meant meeting up with Lianshi and Leonis.
And Scorio couldn’t wait to show them how far he’d advanced.
Chapter 38
Scorio sat on a high ledge, one knee hiked up, other leg swinging, watching the ruined intersection below as First Clay shifted to First Rust, the sun-wire glimmering and burning brighter.
Even as the bloody illumination lightened to a brassy copper hue, he saw his friends striding down the street toward him. They were wary, Lianshi turning in a circle at one point to scan their environs, Leonis casting glances at every doorway and yawning window.
With a breath Scorio inhaled Coal mana into his Heart, rose, and leaped into the air, igniting as he dropped the ten or so yards to land before them with a crunch, a basket balanced neatly on one upturned palm, the other lowering to the ground to steady himself as he rose to his feet.
Both of his friends startled but quickly recovered; they looked so clean, Scorio thought as he smiled at them. Their robes without a single hole or stain, their skin glowing with health, their hair freshly washed and trimmed.
“That’s one way to make an entrance,” said Leonis, voice hearty. “Though that’s going to be terrible for your knees in the long run.”
“You’re early,” said Scorio, stepping forward and unwrapping the old cloth that was bundled around the basket’s contents. “You must have bolted out of the Academy as soon as they opened the gates.”
Lianshi gave him a lopsided smile. “A fair assessment. Can’t deny that we’re eager to try the Gauntlet again. I’ve got some new tactics I want to implement.”
“The woman won’t speak of anything else,” groaned Leonis, eyeing the basket. “Day in, day out, all she wanted to talk about—wait. Delight of Heaven buns?”
“A dozen, as ordered,” said Scorio, bowing low and extending his arm. “Would the kind Academy Great Souls care to replenish their energies before taxing their delicate reserves further?”
“Yes please!” Lianshi dug a browned bun out and raised it to her nose to inhale deeply at the circle of crystalized Iron mana. “Oh! So good. But how did you afford them?”
Scorio’s smile turned wry as he straightened. “The very last of Leonis’s octs. Put them to good use.”
Leonis grabbed a bun in each hand and beamed at Scorio. “Now this is a civilized venture into the wilderness. You don’t happen to have a flute of Apotheosis wine hidden around here somewhere?”
“Come on,” said Scorio, turning and snagging a bun for himself as he went. “We’ve a long day ahead of us. We can discuss fantasy picnics after we’ve died a couple of times.”
“What is it with you two?” Leonis fell in stride with Scorio, an ambling bear of a man that towered over him. “It’s as if you can’t be happy if you’re not discussing dismemberment and decapitation. Ours, to be specific.”
Lianshi moved up on Scorio’s other side, jaw working as she devoured her bun. “Pick your friends better, next time,” she said cheerfully out of the corner of her mouth.
“I’ll submit a letter of complaint to the Archspire.”
“Hey, as we go, let me catch you both up on what I’ve been doing,” said Scorio. “Come on, walk with me. I’ve been farming, let me tell you all about it.”