Krantar scowled. “I wasn’t finished. From the tone of the language, several different ‘Red Castles’ reported to him in a subservient manner. He in turn communicated here and here -” Krantar tapped two different scrolls, “to a Red Bishop. There’s mention in several places of other titles that could be substitutes for a Red Queen, and above her, a Red King. These titles seem to refer not to specific individuals, per se, but rather their ranks.”
Moira sat up. “Bravurn was a Blood Baron. A castle, then, might have been a Pyre Lord.”
“Which would mean a bishop would be a Charnel Duke,” nodded Krantar. “A queen might be a Crimson Countess, and a king, well.”
“An Imperator?” Moira’s eyes opened wide. “That’s… I find it hard to believe.”
Scorio all but sneered.
“That is if our corollary is correct.” Krantar pushed the books away. “This could as easily relate to some interior hierarchy of theirs. But it’s the feeling I get from the text.”
“Worrisome.” Moira tapped her chin. “If that is correct, then we’re stirring up a nest of truly dangerous foes.”
“I warned you,” said Scorio.
Moira ignored him. “Anything else?”
“One more thing, but it’s hard to credit.” Krantar rubbed at his eyes, then turned to a page in the journal. “There are oblique mentions to a central object of reverence. It’s referred to in very flowery language, often metaphorical, but seems to be key to what feels like Bravurn’s religion. My power has allowed me to group these references, then cross-check them for a central term that fits all the descriptors. And…”
“And?” sighed Moira irritatedly.
“And the term that suggests itself…” Krantar looked so uneasy that he shifted in his seat. “The best I can come up with is ‘Archspire.’”
“Oh.” Moira blinked. “That’s… hardly unusual.”
Scorio tried not to feel a pang of disappointment.
“Yes, well. The Archspire he’s referring to exists within a place he refers to as the ‘Deep Square’ in some places, and the ‘Fortress of Symmetry’ in others. He, ah, plainly refers to Bastion as the ‘Ewe’s Chamber’.”
“What are you saying?” asked Scorio, unable to restrain himself from rising to his feet. “There’s a second Archspire?”
“Nonsense,” laughed Moira, but her tone was uncertain.
Krantar shrugged. “I am personally of no fixed opinion. But what I’m gathering from these texts, what my power is inferring, is the existence of a second Archspire in the Fortress of Symmetry. Make of that what you will.”
Scorio stared at Moira, who seemed stunned. “The Lost Cube? That’s what Aezryna said her friend referred to their factory as. A place where they manufactured all the wonders that are now beyond our ken. What was his name? Mazrel?”
Moira stared out at nothing. “A second Archspire. To what end? All souls are reborn in Bastion. That’s our most central tenet. If Bravurn was reborn in… we’ll have to check the records. See what mention there is of his class. His locker. See which of his classmates remember his being part of their cohort.” Her gaze sharpened. “Something this huge couldn’t be so easily hidden.”
Scorio ran his hands through his hair. “By all means, find out. But if that’s what his personal journal states…?”
“If Krantar has understood the allusions correctly.”
“Please,” said Krantar scornfully. “I’m sitting right here.”
Moira jumped to her feet and began pacing. “This is… Scorio, your paranoia and conspiracy theories were…” She trailed off. “But an Imperator? Which? Are we now to suspect our greatest heroes? And a second Archspire? The implications are staggering.”
Scorio closed his eyes and exhaled. “This must be the kind of information my previous self discovered during my past life. That got me put on the Red List and killed.”
Krantar’s eyes widened. “Then we can’t tell anyone that we’ve discovered this. I know I’ve been a Dread Blaze for a decade, but I’m in no hurry to return to the Archspire—our Archspire, that is.”
“The one in the Ewe’s Chamber,” said Scorio bitterly.
Moira nodded uncertainly. “We have to keep this secret for now. The three of us. Krantar, how much more is there to learn from these ledgers?”
“Much more,” said Krantar. “Each discovery leads to a deeper understanding of the whole. But I can’t continue for now. I’m exhausted. Sustained concentration like this wears me out. We’re not all spry Pyre Lords, you know.”
“Then we need to meet again, and soon,” said Scorio. “I’ll keep the books with me for now. Moira? Send for me when you’re ready?”
Moira sank back down into her seat, biting on her thumbnail distractedly. “Yes, of course. I’ve much to think on. Events and facts and rumors to correlate. This… this changes so much. And yet… now I can’t reach out for guidance. Far from it. I…” She blinked and looked sharply at Scorio. “Yes. Tomorrow. Krantar?”
“Very well.” He rubbed at his eyes. “I’ll do nothing but sleep and eat till then.”
“Good.” Scorio began placing the books back in his cart, and smiled fiercely at them both. “This is how their destruction begins. By shining a light on their secrets. And when the time comes, Moira? You’ll tell everyone you’re in contact with so that they can’t silence us like they did me, last time.”
Moira nodded. “When we’re ready. When we have enough evidence that we can’t be written off as mad.”
“Till tomorrow, then.” Krantar stood up. “And I personally hope that we’ve already sounded the most alarming of the truths hidden in these tomes.”
“Till tomorrow,” agreed Scorio, a fierce joy burning in his heart. “And there’s only one way to find out.”
* * *
Krantar was murdered that night.
Lianshi awoke Scorio with the news. He grabbed his pack, and together they raced through the ruins of LastRock to the low-ceilinged dormitory where Krantar had slept along with six others.
Scorio slowed at the sight of Jova. It was the first time he’d seen her since arriving, and she wore a set of plain black robes tied off at the waist with a white belt. Arms crossed, expression stony, she stared at the pair of them as they drew close, a crowd having gathered but wisely chosen to keep its distance.
“Jova,” said Scorio as he stepped up. “Ravenna? What’s happened?”
It was Ravenna who answered, her complexion pale. “Just what Lianshi told you. Moira’s interrogating those within. Nobody saw anything, though. It looks like Krantar just died in his sleep.”
“If it was so quiet,” said Lianshi, “then how did they discover he was dead in the middle of the night?”
“He was half out of his bed,” said Jova, tone severe. “One of them got up to piss and thought that odd.”
“How do we handle this?” asked Scorio. “A murder? Is it just up to Moira…?”
“Normally we’d have called Krantar in to help figure out what had happened,” said Ravenna. “But now…”
Scorio turned slowly to scrutinize the crowd. Most of them were unfamiliar faces, but he saw Merideva whispering with Fyrona to one side. Was the killer here, now, watching from the crowd? Long gone? Already asleep in their LastRock home, knowing they’d get away with it?
“Damn,” said Scorio. “Anything I can do to help?”
“No,” said Jova. “Unless you’ve developed some new powers I’m not aware of.”
“Nothing that’d help here,” said Scorio.
“Then go home. I’m sure Moira will call for you when she’s ready.”
Scorio peered through the doorway, but the angle was wrong. All he could see was part of the unlit interior and one empty bed. “Fine. I’ll be waiting.”
He ignored Merideva’s wave, and began walking back home with Lianshi.
“It has to be the Herdsmen,” said Lianshi, hugging herself tightly. “Which means they’re here, right? They found out?”