Pocketing it, he retrieved the steel rod, placed the chalk back in his robe, and then considered what the fiend had been eating—a huge, jellied snake, translucent but for a wire of jet black that ran its length. This wire was what the fiend had been feasting on, and summoning his Heart, Scorio examined it.
The wire glowed with deeply condensed Coal mana.
Reaching into the jellied interior of the snake, he seized the filament’s end and hauled it free, wrapping it around his elbow then back up to his palm then back around, over and over till he’d pulled the whole of it out.
“Gross,” said Scorio, using the last of the wire to tie off the whole bundle. Setting it down, he moved back to the fiend and considered the cracked blue carapace. Again he summoned his Heart, and again he considered the mana, trying to refine his ability to see more than just dark clouds.
Coal mana was venting from the cracks in the fiend’s armor, but he sensed something more potent contained within it which pulled at him as if magnetized. Grimacing, he crouched by the shattered head and pried the armor plates away, then slid his hand into the pale blue goo that filled its interior, feeling his way down into the cool gunk, past ridges and facets and weird, soft tubes, till at last, his hand closed around a large chunk of warm stone.
He drew it out, having to ignite his Heart again to tear away the ligaments that held it in place. It was a hunk of copper the size of his fist, and he had to wash it with some of his water to reveal its details. Holding it up to the light of Last Clay, he saw that its form was convoluted and complex, a great skein of metal that revealed ever more detail the closer he examined it.
Copper mana, then? This must be the pattern that Jelan had told him of. But why was it inside a fiend? Did it allow the beast to harvest power from the air? But there was no copper around here; did that make it an opportunistic harvester? Would it be profitable to hunt more of them down?
Too many questions. He’d save them for Naomi. For now, he dropped the sticky copper heart and the eel’s looped Coal mana line in his burlap sack, then paused, considering the contents.
Keep going?
He’d already pressed his luck this far. Maybe Feiyan would accept these two treasures in place of a sunphire.
Scorio grimaced.
Who was he kidding?
Jaw firming, he tied the burlap sack tightly to his waist and pressed on.
Now he moved more cautiously, however, exchanging speed for stealth. He was feeling weak, shaky, having drawn on his Heart three times in quick succession, and though he’d not drained it completely as he’d done that first time with Naomi, he was wary of relying on it too much.
So he crept from shadow to shadow, scaled walls with the aid of his bridge and rod, avoided avenues that were obviously nexuses of Coal mana, until at last, he came across a deep crack that seemed to lead into the depths and not a river of fire.
Crouching at the edge of the tilting roof and gazing down, he thought he felt an updraft, as if the darkness below were exhaling at the sight of him.
This looked like a good candidate.
He looked up and around, trying to get a sense of its location by finding coordinates he could navigate by when he returned with Naomi, only to pause, staring straight south.
A huge building loomed in the near distance, separated from him by a maze of burning chasms and slender bridges, demolished towers and landslides. A building so large it matched the Academy back in Ward 7, its huge domes cracked, towers toppled, arcades wreathed in dead ivy. He’d come much deeper than he’d anticipated, was nearly at the very end of the city—or perhaps it was the beginning—right where the ruins ran flush into the Portal’s wall.
Pursing his lips, Scorio followed the curvature of the city up and around from where that huge building stood. Others, equally monumental, arose beside it, all of them in their final stages of decay, forming a gauntlet of magisterial buildings.
The original centers of power, the homes of those who had originally built Bastion, and then been forced to abandon them centuries later by the encroaching rot.
Scorio returned his gaze to the huge building across from him. It bore a striking similarity to the current Academy. The original model? If anything, it was more ponderous, more massive, looming dourly over the wasteland and lava chasms, built so thickly that it had resisted the bulk of the decay.
What treasures might be located within? Sure, Naomi had said the place had been picked clean in the centuries following its abandonment, but what about intangibles that couldn’t be lifted and carried away? Might there be pockets of Copper or even Iron mana within? What if they found some replenishing source long thought abandoned which would obviate their need to smuggle themselves out onto the Rascor Plains?
Trying not to get too excited, Scorio considered the ground between him and his new target. A good fifteen blocks, but blocks so perilous that each one might count for ten of those he had already traveled through. All of the streets looked to have fallen away, leaving behind only fiery gorges. The bridges looked eaten as if by acid, but fortunately, most of the buildings were connected by other means, as if the city had once been a single, sprawling building that had grown out to cover all the blocks, its complex expanse dotted by courtyards, avenues, and who knew what else.
Fifteen blocks, and even without summoning his Heart Scorio could sense how rich and thick the Coal mana was up ahead.
Which promised the greatest of predators.
He’d have to convince Naomi. With her help, they could cross over that wasteland and explore the interior of the Academy.
Rising to his feet, Scorio allowed himself the slightest of smiles.
Who knew? Maybe he’d get himself an Academy education after all.
Chapter 25
He was ready when Naomi appeared at the start of the next day cycle. He sat in his clean robes, the room swept with a crude brush he’d made from a downed acacia branch, his eyes resting on the empty window.
She appeared in it much as a cat might; a sudden rush, a leap that brought her onto the sill in a crouch, and then stillness as she considered him, expression wary, thick hair framing her face tightly as it fell past her shoulders to her knees.
“Good morning,” he said.
“New robes.” She looked around the room, gaze quickly settling on the burlap sack. “And treasures of some kind.”
“Last night’s outing was a profitable one.”
She was in no rush to enter and remained crouched, noting his new sandals, the obvious money pouch set by his pallet, the crude brush propped up against the wall.
“You met with your friends?”
“Come on in and I’ll tell you all about it. I’ve got all manner of new plans.”
“Did you reveal my existence?”
“Just that you were training me. Nothing about your past or anything personal.”
She pursed her lips, considering his words as if parsing them for lies, and then slowly slid into the room, movements controlled, tense, as if ready to bolt at any moment. “Good.”
“Come on, Naomi. Don’t get all suspicious. I’ve good news.”
“Good news presages change. Change means danger. Danger increases the chances of death.”
“That’s one way to look at it. How about this: Leonis, one of my friends, forced that money pouch upon me. I wanted to buy you something nice but didn’t know what you might appreciate. So I settled for that bag of dawn apples.”
“Dawn apples?” That caused her to raise an eyebrow. “But why?”
“Why what?”
“Why spend your money on something nice for me?”
“Because that’s what friends do?” When she raised her eyebrow further, he quickly amended, “Potential friends, at any rate.”
“We’ve a transactional thing going on here, Scorio.” She made no move toward the apples. Sliding down the wall beneath the window, she wrapped her arms around her shins. “You oh-so-kindly brought me two vials of sapphire mana. And exacted an oath from me to help you train. You don’t need to bring me nice things.”