“Sure. If you swear the Heart Oath first.”
“Scorio,” protested Ravenna, but Moira raised her hand.
“I don’t fault your precaution. And you’ve earned the oath. Witness.” And Scorio felt her mana swirl about her, his own Pyre Lord sensitivity making her manipulations readily apparent. He’d never witnessed a Heart Oath being sworn, and thus paid close attention.
“I swear our most ancient oath,” intoned Moira, her voice swelling with power as her Heart ignited with Bronze. It was large, shaped of polished obsidian, and incredibly dense in a way that he couldn’t quite fathom. The more he scrutinized it, the clearer the image became; bright coppery flames danced over its corrugated surface, and he realized that it was a tightly folded mass of rock, not a single lump at all. “I swear a Heart Oath upon my burning Heart, that what I now say is true: my powers only work through skin on skin contact, and are foiled by the wearing of a simple leather glove.”
Her words felt burnished, and seemed to hang in their air between them like some kind of auditory afterimage. Scorio inhaled deeply; he could sense on some profound level that what she spoke was true. True in that her Heart, burning brightly, didn’t immediately shatter.
“There.” Moira allowed her Heart to gutter, and the image and moment of power faded away. “Content?”
“Yes,” he said.
She laughed. “Very good. But I’ll caution you this: don’t grow used to using Heart Oaths as a quick means to establish your credibility. It’s too dangerous to be used lightly, and if people hear that you’re willing to swear so easily, they’ll grow suspicious if you ever refuse. Best used sparingly if at all, or just between friends.”
And with that, she tugged on the glove and extended her hand.
Scorio glanced at it, back up to her malachite eyes, then took her hand and shook.
Moira’s grip was strong, and she didn’t release right away. Her gaze held him locked in place. “All Great Souls suffer. It’s our willingness to endure pain that allows us to accomplish our highest goals. You couldn’t have accomplished all that you’ve done without great sacrifice. If you want to rise higher, you’ll have to continue suffering. I see in you a hunger that will take you all the way. The question you must ask yourself is how much sorrow you’re willing to shoulder to reach where you seek to climb.”
Scorio stared, transfixed, then pulled his hand away.
“Thank you, Scorio. For all that you’ve done.”
“Sure.” His heart was beating hard.
“I can help him get settled,” said Lianshi.
“Very good. I’ll send word as soon as I hear from Krantar.”
“Maybe we can catch up soon?” asked Ravenna, to which Scorio gave a noncommittal nod.
Gathering his belongings, Scorio followed Lianshi back out into the late evening light.
“Phew!” Xandera raked her fingers through her orange hair, which parted thickly like honey only to flow back into a seamless whole again. “That was strangely intense! Are you friends? I couldn’t really tell.”
“I don’t know, either.” Scorio took a deep breath and forced a smile. “I like her. But that doesn’t necessarily mean I trust her completely, either.”
“Interesting.” Xandera considered. “Great Souls are so complicated.”
“I think you’d find blazeborns just as complicated if you got to experience a full court,” said Scorio. “Your original self, the one I first met, described the politics played by the queens and their followers. It sounded just as intricate.”
“One day, perhaps.” Xandera’s smile became bemused. “That does sound like fun.”
“So?” Lianshi turned to face them both. “To your quarters? There are two options: either we can stay at the main barracks, which are a mess of cots lined up next to each other, and mostly just Tomb Sparks and Flame Vaults, or we can try to find a private house that’s not too fallen apart. We’ll probably have to go to the outskirts, right up against the wall, given how most have already been claimed.”
“Not just yet,” said Scorio. “There’s something else I need to do first.”
“Find Fyrona?” asked Lianshi quietly.
“That, too. But no.” Scorio turned to study the hugely demolished central building, then gazed past it at the ruined extent of the fortress. “First I need to find the Lost Library, or what’s left of it.”
Chapter 62
“The Lost Library,” said Lianshi after a moment. “What’s that?”
So Scorio told them both as they drifted away from Moira’s building, slowly trundling around the central ruins in the deepening shadows. Told them of Praximar’s private library, how he’d perused the titles after killing the chancellor and found a book called The Empty Palm: Being a Historical Treatise on the Rise and Fall of Deep Hell Secret Societies.
“That sounds like exactly the right kind of book.” Xandera frowned. “But your books are so fragile. Nothing as durable as weaving stone and metal like we do.”
“True.” Scorio couldn’t help but smile. “But your arts are beyond us. Much easier, I guess, to simply write with ink and paper.”
“Alright, so there might be a copy of this book in the Lost Library. But… I’ve not heard anyone mention finding such a place. Aaand I’m guessing you don’t want to ask Moira?”
“Not yet, at any rate.”
Lianshi tapped her lips. “So. A Lost Library. Odds are it’s been destroyed along with everything else. Do you have any sense of where it was? Underground, or hidden inside a large building, or…?”
Scorio shook his head. “That’s all I know. Which isn’t much, but… Xandera?”
“Hmm?” The twelve-year-old had crouched down to examine a fiery beetle that was pushing a nugget of condensed mana along with its hind legs. “Yes?”
“Queen Xandera was able to find Bravurn’s vault. Do you think you could do the same here? Find a hidden room underground, perhaps?”
“Hmm.” Xandera considered. “Just a random room?”
“My guess is it’s small, secure, and has a good chance of containing treasures. But I know. It’s a long shot.” Scorio frowned at the ruined city around them, then turned to study the massive pile of broken rocks that had been the fortress’ center. Its main keep, perhaps. “But maybe under all that? Jova refused to let Praximar look at the library, which indicates she knew about it, and perhaps kept it close to her center of operations.”
“Under all that?” Xandera stood and skipped across the road to stop at the base of a particularly massive boulder. The keep had fallen in upon itself, such that its outer shell of huge walls yet stood, but was filled with detritus, rubble, and broken rocks. “Hmm.”
Scorio crossed his arms and watched.
Xandera placed her palm on the boulder, then skipped to another spot and crouched to peer in through a crack. Then placed her hand on the floor. Stayed still for a spell, then resumed skipping around the building. Scorio and Lianshi followed at a distance, watching as the blazeborn paused to examine the ruins here and there. She gave no indication of whether she was having success or not, till at last they’d completed a circuit and she returned to them.
“It’s a mess. But luckily it’s a rock I can work with. The fire inside it is as old as time, but it’s there.” She turned to consider the ruins, then all of LastRock. “This was all birthed deep inside Acherzua. I can taste the tiniest flecks of rich mana still within its heart.”
“Which means?” asked Scorio.
“Which means we can probe a little deeper. Come!” And with a grin she darted to a gap between the collapsed rocks and wriggled in.
“You go ahead,” said Lianshi. “I’ll watch our belongings.”
Scorio nodded his thanks and crawled after Xandera. She’d charted an approach, and he was hard pressed to follow her through the collapsed walls and boulders. Occasionally she simply stopped to extend her hand, and then the rocks would glow brightly and melt away in great rivulets of molten stone. The heat would briefly become tremendous, forcing Scorio to ignite and hang back, but soon enough she’d scamper on, leading him ever deeper into the heart of the ruins.