“Where do you think she went?” asked Lianshi, tone implacable. “Her second trial. And Tomb Spark is when you first get your shroud.”
Shroud.
Words came back to him, summoned from recent memory. The White Queen, speaking to them all as they prepared to assault Imogen the Woe: Her halo allows her to establish preeminence, which none here can contest. Her Ferula is infamous for its destructive power, and her shroud is nigh impervious to any attacks we can muster.
Jova had a shroud?
Jova was a Tomb Spark?
Scorio felt a bout of dizziness wash over him, felt his heart lurch painfully in his chest and begin to pound erratically.
Jova strode forward, impervious, inexorable.
Ravenna stood, shaking her head in abject denial, and then broke into a run, darting away to the left.
Jova angled to intercept and broke into a sprint. The transition from slow strides to all-out running was shocking. A moment later she intercepted Ravenna, who screamed and dropped into a crouch, arms wrapped around her head.
Jova stopped beside her, placed a boot upon the girl’s shoulder, and shoved her out of the ring.
Ravenna fell into the darkness and was gone.
Utter silence had fallen upon the stands. Everyone was gaping. Scorio felt numb; everything was happening too quickly, and all he could think was a single thought, over and over again as Jova turned to stare up at where Helminth stood on her pedestal.
The crowd broke out into rapturous cheers as Jova raised her fist, the sound washing over him like a huge wave, drowning him in its frenzied might.
It’s over, he thought. It’s over. It’s all over.
Chapter 64
“It’s not like it’s never happened before,” Lianshi was saying. The three of them were making their way back to their suite. “Apparently Iulius the Golden reached Flame Vault by the end of the first semester.”
“Iulius the Golden?” Leonis shook his head. “Never heard of him.”
“Hasn’t been reborn in some time.” Lianshi shrugged a shoulder. “A lot of people are looking forward to his return. He was a huge presence right up till he stopped being reborn.”
“I bet Praximar wishes I’d disappear in the same way,” muttered Scorio.
“Or,” said Leonis, throwing an arm around Scorio’s shoulders, “maybe he likes being antagonized and driven to distraction by upstart rapscallions such as yourself.”
Scorio snorted. “And here I was thinking he was a sadist all the time. Turns out he’s a masochist.”
“You know the old adage?” Leonis leered down at him. “The masochist says hurt me, and the sadist says no.”
Scorio frowned up at his friend. “You saying I should stop upsetting Praximar?”
“Nothing would make him more upset. What would he do with all his time?”
To which Scorio could only snort and shake his head.
They turned into their hall and walked in silence to their door. Entered, one by one, and then all of them sank onto the cushions that filled one corner. Lianshi stared at Scorio, a single vertical line between her brows.
“Want to talk about it?” she asked.
“About what?” Scorio pulled a cushion onto his lap and started fiddling with the seam. “That my one in a million chance has just turned to zero?”
“Doesn’t look good, I’ll give you that,” sighed Leonis, lying back luxuriously. “How did she make Tomb Spark? At this point, she’s just showing off.”
“To make Tomb Spark you need to take your hugely magnified reservoir and compress it back to its original size.” Lianshi’s tone was pensive. “Resulting in an ultra-dense pool that can easily be ignited. It’s no longer a question of getting enough mana, or high-quality treasures. Your reservoir is already huge. It’s simply a matter of using your will to condense, and that’s fueled by an understanding of who you are. There are Great Souls who make Emberling in no time and then get stuck there for ages, or conversely, those who take forever to get there and then burn right through to Tomb Spark in no time at all. Just a question of understanding yourself, accepting yourself, and willing yourself to ascend.”
“That’s it?” asked Scorio. “You just need to understand yourself? I mean, I understand myself perfectly already.”
“It’s not easy,” said Lianshi, tone severe. “It’s not enough to just say words to yourself, or take guesses, or even realize the truth. Apparently, you have to accept it at a soul level. Truly understand who you are.”
“Think of it this way,” said Leonis. “I know it’s bad for me to drink copious amounts of flaywine the night before an important fight. I know I should spend that time working on my Forms instead. But the knowledge isn’t enough. I still indulge in my many glorious vices. I haven’t, ah, Tomb-Sparked my way from knowing to being, or what have you.”
“Huh,” said Scorio. “So even realizing who you are isn’t enough. You’ve got to… what? Believe it?”
“Something like that,” said Lianshi. “And that’s the hard part. Though apparently, Jova managed just fine. Guess she’s been doing her homework.”
“Funny,” said Scorio. “I thought she was just paddling water. Focusing on her skills, her forms.”
“What, you didn’t see her every night in the training circles?” asked Leonis.
“I did. I just… I’ve been thinking of her as a static target. My mistake.”
They subsided into silence.
“Nothing’s changed, though,” said Lianshi at last. “We’re going to harvest your farm tomorrow, then train in the Gauntlet. You’re going to make Emberling, and we’re going to give the Gauntlet our all in five weeks’ time.”
Scorio grimaced. “Why bother? Even if I make Emberling, Jova’s a damned Tomb Spark. She’ll enter the Gauntlet not only invulnerable due to her Emberling power, but now with a Tomb Spark shroud. What out there can even hurt her?”
“She’s just one person,” said Lianshi, leaning forward. “We’re a team.”
“She’ll be going in with a team,” Scorio spat back.
“But not a real team. Jova’s practically a loner. You’ve seen her. Throw her together with three other strangers, and you think she’ll get along with them? Whereas we three have been working together from the beginning. Well, almost the beginning. How many times have we tackled the old Gauntlet now?”
Scorio frowned, wanting to resist her logic.
“We’re a team, Scorio. And if we enter the Gauntlet as one, who’s to say we won’t do better overall because of it?”
“Not to be a pessimist,” said Leonis with an apologetic wince, “but if Jova reaches the end of the tournament—which we all know she will—then the rest of her team will be the other three Great Souls who make it into the top four. That’s the whole reward, after all.”
“Three other random Great Souls,” said Lianshi heatedly, “none of which will be Ravenna. They’ll be even less of a team than any other line-up. They’ll have been competitors right up till the last second, and each will no doubt bring a large amount of pride and resentment to the mix. Which Jova will icily ignore as she goes about doing what she does best: winning by herself.”
“So, what are you saying?” asked Scorio, bouncing his knee angrily. “That four Emberlings can compete against a Tomb Spark? She’s just gained immunity from the Curse for a whole ’nother segment of the run.”
“True,” said Lianshi. “And that’s no small thing. Nor is her ability to ignore damage. But I’ve told you a hundred times now: she’s not actually invulnerable. Not like I can be. She seems that way against Emberling level damage, but if she gets hit by something more powerful, it will leave a mark.”
“We need Naomi,” said Leonis. “Now more than ever.”
“What we need,” cut in Scorio, “is for me to make Emberling already. I’m the weak part of the team. I’m going to drag you all down.”