Scorio raised his hand but the wagon had already rolled on. “If it’s not safe, why do they do it?”
“Octs, obviously,” said Evelyn carelessly. “That and people like being out here. Though nobody remembers Eterra, people think it looked like this. It’s why it feels so right, unlike any other part of Hell.”
Scorio nodded, mulling this over.
Evelyn eyed him. “So you’re the leader of this little group.”
“I don’t know if they’d all agree.”
“It wasn’t a question. You never told me your official Archspire information. Now’s a good time.”
Scorio flushed, but how could he refuse? “Scorio, once known as The Scourer, Lord of Nagaran, Master of the Black Tower, The Bringer of Ash and Darkness, the Shadow of Spurn Harbor, the Abhorred, Quencher of Hope, and Unmaker of Joy.” He took a deep breath as Evelyn’s eyebrows rose. “The highest rank I ever reached was Blood Baron, and it’s been over two hundred and thirty years since I last died. I’ve been reborn six times, and, ah, am on the Red List.”
“No kidding?” Evelyn’s hair snaked out to move her food and waterskin aside as she leaned forward. “Fascinating. A Red Lister? I think I heard about you. Of course!” She snapped her fingers and sat up straight. “You’re the Cinder who helped Imperator Sol defeat Imogen the Woe.”
Scorio forced a smile. “That’s me.”
“And you came first in the Gauntlet run?” Her gaze turned positively carnivorous. “I knew you were a catch, but I had no idea. I thought Jova Spike, the Charnel Duchess of LastRock, was my prized find, but maybe I was wrong.”
“You knew who Jova was?”
Evelyn tsked in irritation. “Everyone does. It wasn’t till she died that the Blood Ox was able to conquer LastRock, after all. But you. I’ve never heard of you. Scorio the Abhorred. And only six reincarnations? That’s…”
“Yeah.” Scorio rubbed a thumb into his palm.
“And those titles. And on the Red List. You must have been a real monster in your day.” She grinned. “But now you’re just this cute kid. Makes me wish…” She trailed off, considering, then gave a sharp shake of her head and smiled. “Never mind.
Scorio thought to press, but then checked the instinct. She was a Dread Blaze. What she wanted him to know, she’d tell him. “What did the Archspire tell you?”
“Me?” Evelyn smiled. “Nothing nearly as interesting. Priestess of the Amber Cell, Devotee of the Sublime Garotte, the usual. Highest rank I’ve ever achieved was Pyre Lady—disappointing—and I’ve been reincarnated just under two hundred times. But I’m going all the way in this life. Something tells me I’ve never been part of an organization like Manticore before.” Her gaze became unfocused as her smile grew softer, more complex. “Imperator. I’ve got ten years. I’m almost halfway there.”
“Well, I can tell you were all excited.” Scorio grinned. “We—”
“Evelyn!” A handsome man with lustrous black skin approached, his smile broad and contagious. He wore slate travel robes and had let his pack slip down into his hand as he approached. “You’re here.”
Evelyn rose to give the man a hug. “Did you doubt it?”
The stranger put an arm around Evelyn’s shoulders as he smiled at Scorio. “I don’t know. Bastion’s got all that intrigue and good food. I wouldn’t blame you if you decided to stay an extra night or two. Who’s this?”
“Scorio. I adopted him and his friends just before leaving the city.”
Scorio rose to his feet. “Dread Blaze Davelos? It’s an honor.”
“Is it now?” The Dread Blaze’s smile faded. “How many friends we talking?”
“Seven in all. But they’re the pick of the litter. You won’t believe how much Scorio here upset Praximar. He came first in the final Gauntlet run and then refused to join a House or remain at the Academy.” She grinned proudly. “What makes it better is that the runner-up also refused, and she’s here as well. And Davelos, you’ll never guess who she is.”
He frowned at her. “Who?”
“Jova of LastRock!” Evelyn almost clapped her hands.
“That so?” Davelos’s manner remained easy, but his gaze narrowed a fraction as he studied Scorio. “I’m sure there’s a long and fascinating story behind it.”
“We’re happy to share it with you,” said Scorio.
“Are you now? Mind giving Evelyn and me a few moments to catch up?”
“Sure.” Scorio took a step back, then walked away to where Jova and Juniper were watching them.
“What was that about?” asked Jova as he sat down beside her.
Davelos had his hands on his hips as he listened skeptically to Evelyn, who was obviously making a case for them.
“I don’t know. I guess Davelos doesn’t think Manticore needs us.”
Jova frowned. “He doesn’t even know us.”
“He knows we’re not Flame Vaults, at any rate. Or maybe Evelyn went a little rogue recruiting people when she wasn’t supposed to? I don’t know.”
The three of them watched the Dread Blazes confer, and finally Davelos’s expression turned thoughtful, then he nodded, then he smiled and began to approach the three of them. The sun had nearly set, and shadows lay long across the green.
“Scorio. Evelyn’s convinced me that you’re all worthy recruits. Apologies for my earlier hesitation. The world’s changing quickly and I wasn’t sure now was the right time to bring new blood on.”
The three of them stood. “Not a problem,” Scorio said. “I’m glad Evelyn made a strong case for us.”
“This is Jova Spike,” said Evelyn. “Yes, the Jova Spike.”
Davelos appraised her, eyebrows rising, and then he bowed his head with easy grace. “An honor. Davelos, Dread Blaze.”
Jova’s expression remained distant. “Jova Spike, Tomb Spark.”
“And I’m Juniper, an Emberling.”
“Well met. Where are the rest of you?”
Scorio waved to the others, who rose from the spot they’d chosen under the oak tree and ambled over. Lianshi was missing; she’d excused herself for a moment’s privacy. The others rapidly made their introductions, and then Davelos beamed at them all.
“Evelyn speaks highly of you. Says it’s worth our time and energy to escort you to the Fiery Shoals and possibly bring you into our small outfit. I’ll be honest. This isn’t what I hoped to be doing. Word is there’s some serious fiend activity at the far edge of the farmlands and commensurate bounties to go with it. But plans change. Now, while I trust Evelyn’s opinion, I’d like to get a little taste of what you all are bringing to the table. Who’s up for a little sparring match?”
Scorio felt his blood stir. “I’ll never say no.”
Naomi crossed her arms. “Is this how all Great Souls greet each other out here?”
Davelos’s smile remained unfazed. “Only those who are considering admitting others into their organization. Scorio. Fitting that you should go first. Come on over here. We’ll keep it light and easy, but don’t feel like you have to hold back.”
They walked to a clear expanse of grass beyond the stones. The others spread out to watch, and Davelos turned to face him, smile as broad and winsome as ever.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
Scorio inhaled deeply and swept Copper mana into his Heart. As always, the Copper was hard to corral; it tried to swim and slide free of his mental paddle, and felt like trying to herd eels into a cup. But he drank deep, took his time saturating his Heart, and then Ignited.
Power flooded through him. He still wasn’t used to how much more lethal his Tomb Spark nature made him feel. Light and focused and impossibly strong. A flexion of his will and scales erupted across his arms, chest, and back, gleaming and oily black, while horns emerged from his head and his hands grew, his fingers turned into massive talons, all of it burning a bright cherry red which lightened to yellow-white at the tips.