“The White Queen has proclaimed preeminence over the Fiery Shoals and the immediate area beyond it,” said Kyrie, moving to one side so they could step up beside him. “Do you know what that means?”
“Sol and Imogen fought for preeminence,” said Scorio. “It gave Sol the edge over Imogen when he achieved it.”
Kyrie stared at Scorio as if he’d sprouted a second head, but nodded all the same. “This was during the recent attack on Bastion? That makes sense. When very Great Souls reach Charnel Duchess they can begin asserting preeminence, especially when they’re striving against someone of equal or lesser power. It grants them a serious edge in every way, and will often cause the other party to simply surrender. Regardless, the White Queen’s preeminence has grown over the years and now extends over much of the Plains beyond the Shoals. Enough that she can sense when powerful fiends excite their Hearts and move to intercede.”
“Excite their Hearts?” asked Scorio.
“How long has she ruled here?” asked Lianshi.
They reached the base of the broad stairs and passed through into a new hallway whose ceiling was lost to the shadows. Archways off each side led into new corridors, and Scorio was only now starting to get a sense of the Shoals’ sheer size.
Kyrie grinned at their eagerness and ducked his head. “I’m sorry. I remember being just as enthusiastic as you were when I got here. Yes. When fiends attack they channel their native power through their Heartstones. It’s nothing anyone can sense below Pyre Lord—or if you’re exceptionally talented—but with preeminence, they must have lit up like bonfires in the White Queen’s mind. What attacked you?”
Jova’s voice was dour. “The Dread Blazes called them Ixithilions.”
“There were six of them,” added Scorio.
“Plus over a hundred goldyolks,” muttered Leonis from the back of the group.
Kyrie stopped and faced them. “Ixithilions?”
Scorio shared a glance with Jova. “Yes…?”
Their guide’s surprise was quickly replaced by enthusiasm. “That’s… wow. Unheard of. Until recently, I suppose. And six of them? Where were you? Are you sure there weren’t more?”
“The White Queen seemed sure,” said Scorio slowly. “Why? You make it sound like that was a good thing.”
“Oh no, it’s terrible.” Kyrie tapped his lips. “Six. Huh. Ixithilions are rarely seen even in the Iron Weald. For them to have penetrated this far… that’s fascinating. And terrible. Definitely terrible.”
“I don’t know,” said Leonis. “You’re sounding like Lianshi does when she tries to convince us to go see really dangerous parts of Hell.”
“I find the geography of Hell fascinating,” explained Lianshi apologetically.
“And I’m here to study the incursion of fiends,” said Kyrie. “It’s something that’s uniformly interested me across all my lives, resulting in my leaving copious compendiums of my studies to myself.”
“Wait,” said Juniper. “Kyrie? You’re Kyrie the Parafiendologist of Xon?”
Kyrie blushed and tucked a strand of mousey brown hair behind one ear. “I was? You must have studied my textbook at the Academy. Sorry. It’s really dense. Even I have trouble making my way through it the first time.”
“What do you mean, ‘was’?” asked Jova. “Either you are, or you aren’t.”
“I guess I am?” Kyrie sounded apologetic. “But the Kyrie that earned that title was seventeen lifetimes ago. He—or I—lived to over fifty years old, and reached Blood Baron as he—I mean, I—explored all manner of uncharted areas and earned some fame. I ended up retiring to the Academy and writing the textbook we all read now.”
“Great,” said Leonis. “So you’re to blame for all those late-night headaches.”
Kyrie bobbed his head. “Sorry.”
“I loved your book,” said Lianshi, turning to glare at Leonis defiantly. “It was comprehensive, logically laid out, and helped untangle all manner of mysteries that only seemed obvious in retrospect.”
“You did?” Kyrie relaxed his shoulders. “Oh. Good! That’s nice to hear. Anyway, I always leave my notebooks and resources for myself to collect here at the Shoals—it’s safer than the Academy lockers—and have a long-standing invitation to come here the moment I graduate.”
“Oh wow,” said Lianshi admiringly. “That’s amazing.”
“Well.” Kyrie grimaced. “It probably sounds better than the reality. I spend almost all my time frantically reading my old notebooks while everyone assumes I already know everything. It’s long stretches of tedium punctuated by moments of panic as I have to rush and research and report back on what I should already know. Or once did.”
“I feel you.” Lianshi grimaced sympathetically. “I’m an inveterate diarist. I’ve hundreds of them.”
Jova leaned forward. “You said it’s unheard of for Ixithilions to get this deep?”
“Oh. Yes. Ixithilions are quite dangerous. Six of them can be more than even a Pyre Lord can handle. For them to have gotten this close to Bastion is, frankly, quite shocking.”
A small crowd of robed officials brushed past, the two women at their lead arguing quietly if intensely as they went. Scorio stepped aside to make room then returned his attention to Kyrie. “What does it mean, then?”
Kyrie resumed walking. “Sign of the times, I suppose. Old patterns everywhere are being disrupted. Much of my written knowledge is woefully outdated or naïvely presumptuous. The number of Great Souls throughout the layers of Hell has dropped. You heard about LastRock?”
Jova nodded grimly but chose not to enlighten Kyrie.
“Well, that’s just an example. Mana fluctuations across entire layers are now a common occurrence, allowing powerful fiends to range much farther north from their usual haunts. Everything is in flux, and not for the better.”
Kyrie led them down a narrow hallway. A constant stream of people moved back and forth, some clearly servants with slightly dazed expressions, others guests who moved with focused intent in small groups or alone.
Leonis almost turned around to keep watching a pair of beautiful women in matching black robes stride by, then shrugged apologetically at Lianshi’s accusing stare. “How big is this place, anyways?”
“How large?” Kyrie stopped before a blank black door and pushed it open. “I’m not sure, exactly, but there’s something like five thousand people here at any one time. That number fluctuates a lot, however; people are constantly leaving and arriving.”
He led them into a broad living space dominated by a low central table around which people could sit on ebon cushions. The far wall was covered by glossy heavy curtains, and six doors led off the central chamber to further rooms.
“I’m sensing a pattern in the decor,” muttered Leonis, prompting Zala to snort.
“Here you are. This is guest suite seven on the Granite Wing. You can always ask for directions back here if you get lost. There are six rooms, each with double beds, and bathing and cleaning facilities are at the end of the main hall.” Kyrie smiled conspiratorially. “Don’t miss out on the heated pools two floors below. They’re fantastic.”
“Thanks,” said Scorio. He’d lost his pack somewhere during the goldyolk attack, and hadn’t thought to ask the White Queen to wait while he searched for it. “We’re, ah, a little light on belongings after the Ixithilion attack. Any chance we could…”
“I gave Feiyan all my octs,” said Leonis.
Juniper put her hand on her belt. “I’ve still got some.”
“Please.” Kyrie smiled. “You’re guests of the White Queen. I’ll see to it that fresh robes are sent up. Meals are served in the dining hall every third bell—that’s one floor down—and I’ll have fresh water pitchers brought to your rooms.”
Lianshi beamed. “Thank you. That’s so kind of you.”
“Hardly.” Kyrie shrugged one shoulder. “How you’re treated reflects on the White Queen’s honor. Let’s see: feel free to explore the Shoals, but I’d recommend you stay on this floor—that’s the third down from the topmost—down to the sixth. Everything below that is off-limits to normal guests. Don’t forget that the White Queen has preeminence throughout the Shoals, and can sense what you’re doing if she but focuses on you or if you channel a lot of mana outside your rooms. You have privacy in here, but she’ll be aware if you get into a fight or the like.”