Then her mana ran out, she reverted to her Naomi self, and was ensnared.
“There,” said Evelyn, and as fast as mana barnacle retracting its cilia all her hair withdrew from the room, flooding back and reducing itself to her natural mane, so that everyone simultaneously dropped to the ground. “Well done, everybody.”
Scorio straightened. Frustration and anger battled with amazement. He’d seen the White Queen battle Imogen the Woe, had witnessed all manner of insane, destructive power leveled during that battle for Bastion, but it had all felt theoretical, abstract, operating on a level he couldn’t comprehend.
This, however, had felt tangible. Bitterly so. Evelyn had been just within reach. A little more effort, a little luck—but no. Scorio scowled. What was he thinking? They’d never come close.
“Oh, cheer up, all of you.” Evelyn moved around the bar to fish around for a bottle. “You did great! But you’re just Emberlings and Tomb Sparks. Consider this some useful calibration.”
They exchanged rueful glances and clustered before the bar. Jova was fuming. Scorio could imagine why: she’d barely impacted the fight at all.
“Talk about a humbling experience.” Leonis was clearly trying to laugh it off. “I never even got close.”
Evelyn refilled all the cups with what was clearly a much more expensive bottle. The contents glowed a subtle gold. “That’s a nice mace you have, though. Got any special properties?”
Leonis frowned into his cup. “It knocks things down and they tend to stay down.”
“When you can reach them,” said Lianshi. “Hey, don’t get upset at me. I was helpless as well.”
“Your ability?” Evelyn considered what remained in the bottle and then raised it to her lips and gulped the rest down.
They all watched as her throat worked, and then Leonis grinned. “Now that’s my kind of Dread Blaze.”
“Um. I can become completely invulnerable for a short while.”
“Oh yeah?” Evelyn set the bottle down and wiped the back of her hand across her lips and grinned. “Enjoy this, kids. You’re not going to find it’s like out on the plains.”
“What was it you did?” asked Naomi, voice taut with resentment. “Why couldn’t I hit you?”
“That would be telling.” Evelyn winked at her, completely immune to her glower. “But those butterflies. Your name again?”
“Zala.”
“Nice butterflies. Subtle. And so pretty! Not an obvious threat. But you bothered me the most. Forced me to travel twice. Very impressive.”
Leonis looked dubiously at Zala. “What do they do, exactly?”
Zala raised both eyebrows. “That would be telling.” But she couldn’t keep a straight face. “Sorry. They enervate whomever they touch and cause them to return to their true form. The longer I can generate them, the more quickly they emerge from my palms.”
“Hence my need to get out of their way. And you, angry girl? A defensive power, right?”
“Angry girl?” mouthed Lianshi to Scorio.
Jova clearly didn’t like it either. She crossed her arms and stared flatly at Evelyn. “Yes.”
“Well, I’m sure it’s great. Who else. You?”
Juniper flushed. “Close-quarters ability. My punches leave fields of static light behind, blinding my foes.”
Evelyn pursed her lips appreciatively. “Also nice. And you two.” She turned to Naomi and Scorio. “Very frightening. Can’t imagine how dangerous you’ll be in time.”
Scorio took a deep breath, her words smoothing down some of his frustration. “Thanks. Any advice on what we could have done differently?”
Evelyn laughed and took up her cup. “You’re not in school anymore, and I’m definitely not your teacher. Maybe if you make Manticore, but right now, you’re just probationary.”
“Meaning what?” demanded Jova.
“Meaning I’ll escort you to the Fiery Shoals.”
Scorio felt a thrill. “So you’ll take us with you?”
Evelyn leaned forward, lazy, languid, amused. “Oh come on. Manticore’s a small operation. How often do you think we get the cream of the Academy crop throwing themselves at us? Of course I’m taking you.”
Lianshi clapped her hands and then clutched them under her chin. “Fantastic!”
Leonis grinned and raised his cup. “I’ll drink to that.”
Zala and Juniper raised their cups as well, and when Scorio glanced at Naomi she rolled her eyes and raised hers, too.
“Jova?” prompted Juniper.
“Oh fine.” Jova raised her cup and they all clinked them together.
“Question,” said Evelyn after drinking nearly half her cup. “What’s got you all so worked up about getting to the Shoals? You think it’ll be safer than Bastion or something?”
“Two things.” Scorio sipped his golden drink. It was infused with Gold mana, and washed over his Heart like a warm glow, refreshing and easing its raw and abused state. “We need to speak with the White Queen about what’s happening here. It’s our hope she can intercede and bring peace. The rebellion leaders have agreed to call off the fighting for ten days, but if we don’t convince the White Queen before then they’ll pick up where they left off.”
Evelyn looked impressed. “You’re involved in some serious matters. Ten days? The White Queen can teleport to Bastion once you reach her, but getting to the Fiery Shoals in such a short time… well, it means I’ll have to push you. But very well. I can appreciate your desire to orchestrate peace. Strife in Bastion serves nobody but the Pit. But you said there was a second reason?”
“Right. Like we said, we want to learn the truth about, well, just about everything. And seeing as the Academy and the main Houses will never be honest with us, we’re hoping we can get some insight at the Fiery Shoals and from the White Queen herself.”
“I can respect that.” Evelyn rocked her cup back and forth. “Moreover, I’m glad to hear it. We formed Manticore for some pretty high-minded ideals. Even after our losses we try to stick to them.”
“We heard you lost an Imperator. I’m sorry,” said Lianshi.
Evelyn pursed her lips and considered her cup. “It happens. But her ideals guide us still. To do whatever’s necessary to empower ourselves so that the greatest number can challenge the Pit and find a way back to Eterra.”
Scorio hesitated. “That’s what the other Houses claim.”
“Sure. But not what they practice.” Evelyn looked up at him from under her thick lashes. “Their problem is that they’ve been around for too long. Become ossified. Caught up with tradition and maintaining the status quo, since it benefits them so much.”
Scorio felt his pulse quicken. “Yes, exactly.”
Evelyn continued. “Now they dedicate only, oh, I don’t know, half or less of their energy to actually destroying the Pit. The rest? It’s used to maintain their wealth, their privileges, to funnel resources back to Bastion, to train new Great Souls. You guys know that the higher up the ranks you go, the more Great Souls have left the Houses?”
Everybody nodded grimly.
“Last I heard only four of the thirty-seven Crimson Earls are House affiliated. And only eight of the Charnel Dukes out of… sixty? Seventy? The rest have all gone independent or formed their own Deep Hell societies. Which is what we hope to become.”
Scorio felt himself come alive. “That’s perfect. That’s exactly what we were hoping to achieve ourselves.”
“That so? Looks like we’re all about to get lucky then.” She canted her head to one side. “Of course, Manticore’s not powerful enough to cut ties with Bastion just yet. Our leadership’s made up of me and four other Dread Blazes. As soon as one of us makes Pyre Lord, we’re going to head deeper.”
“So what is it you’re doing on the Plains?” asked Leonis. “Farm duty?”