“Doesn’t sound like you do,” said Leonis dubiously.
“He’s…” Scorio stopped and sought the right words. “He’s brash and loud, he’s crude but… I don’t know, jovial? After all the careful, manipulative types, he’s… bracing. I felt sorry for him.”
Naomi’s expression was implacable. “So you humiliated him in public and challenged him to a duel.”
“I wanted to snap him out of it. To wake him up.” Scorio knotted his fists. “He’s a Charnel Duke. He’s right up there with the White Queen, but he felt… broken. I don’t know, I clearly wasn’t thinking this through, but his self-pity and willingness to sacrifice everyone to his nihilism infuriated me. Sickened me. It was like I was staring into a gangrenous wound, and in the moment I just had to do something. To cauterize the poison by saying what nobody else dared to.”
“Well, good job,” hissed Naomi. “Plassus will greatly appreciate your service after he pulls his finger out of your skull.”
“It was publicly witnessed,” said Lianshi quietly. “There’s no backing out now unless he agrees to release you. Which means you could possibly attempt to offer him your service as apology.”
“He’d demand a Heart Oath,” said Leonis, shaking his head with dissatisfaction. “With punitive terms. Scorio would be little more than his whipping boy for the rest of this life.”
“I’m not going to go crawling back,” snapped Scorio.
“Well, we’re obviously leaving,” said Naomi. “And the sooner the better. He can’t kill you if you’re not here.”
“Leaving?” demanded Scorio.
Naomi glared at him. “You can’t win, Scorio. Plassus isn’t Praximar. He’s a Charnel Duke. His mana control is beyond anything you can imagine. He can establish dominion. Do you even know what that means?”
Sol’s voice returned to him, words spoken with grave dignity: “You cannot escape me, Imogen. No matter how quickly you run. Your dominion is circumscribed.”
“Not exactly, no.”
It was Lianshi who answered, her tone dull, clinical. “Dominion is when a Charnel Duke or higher establishes mastery over an area. They can determine the reactivity of mana.”
“He can make it so that your Heart simply can’t ignite,” said Leonis.
“Oh.” Scorio inhaled raggedly. “Not good?”
“Which is why we’re leaving.” Naomi scowled at him. “Our only hope is to go straight to the Silver Unfathom. Plassus is too caught up with the Blood Ox to give chase.”
“Word will get out,” said Leonis quietly. “You’ll be haunted by shame and treated like a pariah.”
Naomi glared at him. “What else is new? We can live with that. We don’t need anyone’s approval.”
Scorio slowly shook his head.
“What?” Naomi was almost vibrating with fury. “You can’t win, Scorio. If you fight him, he will kill you. And given your rebirth record, you won’t return till this war is long lost, which means you don’t get another chance. We run, and we don’t stop running till we hit the Lustrous Maria.”
Scorio remained silent.
Everyone watched him. Lianshi with chagrin and remorse. Leonis with dour sympathy. Naomi with ever-growing anger.
“I’m not running.”
“You are running!” Naomi punched him in the chest, hard.
“No, Naomi.” Scorio raised both hands. “I’m not.”
“But…” She shook her head, helpless with fury and incomprehension. “Did you do this on purpose, then? You want to die?”
“No. I don’t. But…” Scorio struggled again to find the words, to translate the inchoate emotions into something he could explain. “I chose this fight. And I think it needs fighting. I don’t want to die. But Plassus’ vision… he wants to sacrifice thousands so as to shame the Imperators. With Bravurn pressuring him to stand fast, he won’t join with Aezryna. She can angle all she wants, this Charoth can emerge from the shadows to try to intimidate Plassus, but he won’t bend knee. The Seamstress should have sent a Charnel Duke to contest with him, not Blood Barons.”
“You aren’t responsible for thousands,” hissed Naomi. “You’re only responsible for yourself.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t agree.”
“You idiot!” She clutched at her head, spun away, took a few steps, then wheeled back. “Scorio the Idiot! It serves no one and accomplishes nothing to throw your life away like this!”
The four of them stood in silence, the tension in the room throbbing, till Lianshi cleared her throat. “You should probably know what his powers do before entering the fight.”
“Pah!” Naomi stalked into her chambers and left them.
“Sure, yeah.” Scorio rubbed at this face then set to pouring three cups of water from their iron tank.
“Plassus is called the Slow Avalanche because his effects build over time.” Lianshi took a deep breath. “His primary combat power is the ability to freeze incoming attacks around him. The more of them he freezes, the slower he moves, till he either traps himself or takes them all at once.”
“Then how is he still alive?” asked Scorio.
“His allies can clear the attacks.”
Leonis cut in. “It’s supposed to be pretty wicked. He doesn’t freeze the attacks or attackers in place, but in relation to himself. As fights draw out, he accumulates a sphere of violence which he drags around with him.”
“There have to be limits,” protested Scorio.
“Correct.” Lianshi accepted her cup with a grateful smile. “If you try to strike him up close, you’ll get frozen. I don’t know what the range is for that, but a handful of yards? If you throw a long distance attack at him, say by loosing an arrow or a bolt of lightning, it’s the attack that gets frozen before it reaches him.”
“Salorin told me of this one time he trapped a poison-acid attack thing,” said Leonis. “He had to keep his power up till he found a Great Soul several weeks later who could nullify it.”
“Right,” said Scorio. “His Heart won’t be guttering.”
“No,” agreed Lianshi. “Pyre Lords and higher have the ability to continuously drain mana directly from the environment and keep their Hearts burning.”
Scorio opened his mouth to comment, then simply nodded.
“There’s a reason he was placed in charge of this force,” she continued. “His Tomb Spark power makes him more compelling and commands ever more loyalty the more people hear him speak. It’s a long-term, cumulative effect.”
“You think…?” Scorio frowned. “No, I’ve only ever talked to him once before. You think his power made me act this way?”
Lianshi shrugged.
“There’s a reason the Blood Barons and Charnel Dukes don’t speak in person,” said Leonis. “Have you noticed?”
“I thought it was just a formality.”
“Nah.” Leonis drained his cup and set it aside. “Would you go negotiate with someone who can twist the way you think?”
“You’re saying Aezryna has that power, too?”
Lianshi nodded. “Yes. Apparently she can determine the line of reasoning that will have the greatest impact on someone by simply having a conversation with them.”
“Oh.” Scorio winced.
“You didn’t know,” said Lianshi apologetically. “Honestly, Scorio, you need to research people’s powers before speaking with them.”
“No kidding.” He thought of Ravenna leading him to Aezryna’s rooms. She had to have known. “Well, that’s going to change moving forward.”
“What’s done is done,” said Leonis. “Now you either run, or you prepare to die.”
“Let me finish describing Plassus’ powers,” said Lianshi. “His Flame Vault power allows him to imbue crowds with speed, but the faster they become the less they can change direction.”
“Good for armies,” said Scorio, feeling numb.
“And his Dread Blaze power allows him to craft ever better plans to defeat an enemy.”
“Hasn’t worked on the Blood Ox,” said Leonis with a wolfish grin.