Scorio found himself grinning fatuously.
He couldn’t believe it.
He wasn’t going to fall. Wasn’t going to turn away and step into the darkness.
He looked past Dameon at where the man had corralled a scowling Naomi with his other arm, and met her dark eyes.
She looked incredulous, too.
They’d done it.
The knowledge dawned on him like the rising sun.
They’d done the impossible and set the stage for future greatness.
Chapter 39
Different ranks, different levels.
The Emberlings were capable of descending to Iron; that was the limit of their tolerance, where they felt the first edgings of the Curse. A rotating cast of Flame Vaults oversaw their meditation practice and training; the goal was to condense their reservoirs to the point where they could Ignite as quickly as they had as Cinders.
Scorio had walked that road already.
So it was with reluctance that he parted with Naomi, who descended the next morning with Lianshi, Leonis, Zala, and Juniper. He ate well, stretched, and stood in wonder for a spell in the day cycle’s early light, simply staring at the tortured mound of rocks and boulders they’d abandoned.
It almost felt wrong. To not have executed their plans to the last stone, leveling the site and tossing all of it into the Chasm.
Jova found him standing thus, staring blankly past the shaft. She strolled out of one of the buildings, clad in a new set of Manticore robes with the red trim denoting her status of Flame Vault.
“Miss it already?”
Scorio startled. “No. Not at all. But after all this time, not taking up the hammer feels like that sensation when you think there’s another step at the top of a flight and you stumble, surprised.”
“Perhaps you’d found your vocation.”
Scorio didn’t answer. Merely stared back at her. She looked different. It was subtle, but there. More… relaxed. More confident. Poised? No, she’d always been self-assured. It was hard to pin down. She looked like someone who’d hitherto always been searching for confirmation, and had finally found it.
“Perhaps.” If she wanted to get a rise out of him she’d have to work harder. “Congratulations, by the way. On your ascension.”
“Thanks.” She didn’t sound grateful. “Guess I’m more than a punching bag at last.”
“You were always more than that.”
“That so? I was led to believe otherwise. Foolish of me.”
Scorio pursed his lips. Despite how calm she looked she was itching for an argument. But the past five months of backbreaking labor had sweated the issue out of him. He couldn’t even remember why they’d argued.
“I’m sorry if I offended you.” Had he apologized before? If so, that memory was also gone. “I was rude and out of line. My apologies.”
She pursed her lips and drew herself up. She was clearly adapting to his new demeanor on the fly. Had she thought he’d not changed at all? Perhaps she’d simply been too focused on herself.
“Apology accepted. But enough chatter. Let’s go.”
“Go?”
“I’m your escort to the Bronze level. Dameon said it’s time I started earning my keep. Given how generous he’s been, I can’t find it in me to argue.”
“I see. You’re going to do what—just stand around while I meditate?”
“You think so little of me? No. I’ll engage in my own training. I’ve much to accomplish if I’m to make Dread Blaze soon.”
Soon.
It was thrown in his face like a slap. Of course she knew how badly he was lagging. Scorio tried to smile and managed a grimace. “I’ll try to not get in your way.”
She strode past him. “Trust me. You won’t.”
The elevator had returned. They stepped onto its ancient platform and Jova nodded to Valt, who emerged from his crane wheel, wiped the sweat from his brow, and took hold of the break. “Releasing in three.”
They descended smoothly.
For Jova, the ride down had to be rote. For Scorio it was almost as full of wonder as the first time.
“What did he do? Valt?”
Jova didn’t even look at him. “I don’t gossip.”
“It’s a secret?”
She hesitated, clearly reluctant, then shrugged one shoulder. “He offended Dameon.”
“I guess it pays to stay on his good side.”
She turned her head to stare at him directly. “It does.”
“You asked him about the Herdsmen?”
“I thought you’d forgotten all about that.”
“You thought wrong.”
She frowned and looked ahead once more. “I did. He didn’t recognize the term.”
“Secretive group.”
“You think they’d have remained hidden if random Dread Blazes knew about them?”
“Fair point.”
They passed through the waterfall cavern, then back into the darkness. Rode in silence till they emerged into the emerald gloom with its ancient buildings and mysterious machinery. Scorio saw the great platform rise up to greet them. Their friends were engaged in one of the forms, moving slowly through the proscribed attacks and defenses.
To their credit, they didn’t look up and back at their descending cage.
They passed smoothly through a hole in the platform and dropped into greater gloom. The air, already cool, grew chill. The waterfalls had dispersed into a haze of water. For a while there was nothing but raw cliff walls, and then a great natural ledge coalesced beneath them. Jova tugged on the sister-wire and the platform began to slow. Tugged a second time and they came to a jerking stop a foot above the rock.
Jova opened the cage door and hopped out. It wasn’t quite dark enough to necessitate dark vision, but the twilit gloom came close. Scorio’s skin goose bumped and he resisted the urge to rub his arms. One of the drawbacks of flensing all fat from his frame, it seemed, was that he got cold quickly.
“Bronze level,” said Jova tersely. “I’m not going to give you a tour so don’t hold your breath. This is as far as the elevator goes. From here Great Souls descend by flight or through the cavern system hollowed out in the walls.
Scorio sharpened his dark vision and saw three massive tunnel entrances appear where the ledge met the wall, each big enough for an avenue.
“They did a lot of building down here,” he said. “How big is the cave complex?”
“Much of it is collapsed. It’s still extensive, and fiends have dug their own tunnels into it. Which is why this place isn’t safe. Don’t worry, however. I’ll protect you.”
“Thanks.” This was his second day now without working. His body felt almost jumpy with an excess of energy. “Dameon share with you what I’m meant to do?”
“You’re to focus on healing your Heart. Saturate, Ignite, burn for as long as you can, then release before it naturally extinguishes. Soon as you can, do it again. The goal is for you to temper your body with Bronze. You’re to do this for two full cycles. The elevator will drop down to collect us when the time’s up.”
As if on cue, the cage lurched upward, swinging to the sides a bit, and then disappeared into the murk.
Scorio hesitated. “Listen, I know I said some idiotic things back in Bastion. But that was ages ago. Are you still upset with me?”
“Upset?” She arched a brow. “No, Scorio. I was. But I realized my mistake soon after arriving here. You weren’t my peer. I didn’t need to take your insults seriously. On some level, you never were my equal. You gambled everything for your momentary victory, and for a second you shone brightly. But it was just an illusion.”
Her smile was pitying. Scorio stood, frozen, locked in place by her burning gaze.
“One day you might undo the damage you did to yourself. Heal that broken Heart of yours, and eke out an ascension to Flame Vault. But by the time that happens, I’ll be long gone and in the company of those who value hard, honest work, and achieving lasting success. So no, Scorio. I’m not upset with you.” She smiled. “How could I be? Now if you’re done wasting my time, I have to get to work.”