"Well," she said. "I think I have a way through the shield, and perhaps on the way we can decide on a first attempt for separating plant and mage. At the least, I think we need to get Fallon closer to whatever…whoever he left back on the island.
She glanced down at the stone again, and closed her fingers about it. Now was not the moment to tell her puzzle-box student the result of her physical divination. This was not a focus. This had once been bone and blood and flesh.
This was Fallon’s sister.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
No-one argued with Rennyn’s decision to troop back to the garden of mages. A feeling of urgency had descended, all muddled with a sense that they were hurrying off to get themselves killed. And all for a bunch of people they’d never met. By far the smartest thing to do would be to head south, have His Smugness report the find, and set a few hundred people at the problem. The mages had all been there weeks—even months—and so no-one could say it was necessary that Rennyn personally poke that nest of glass hornets.
The Pest was a different matter. He always looked a bit peaky, but now wore a spun-sugar air, as if one good knock would see him in pieces. His expression kept bouncing between bubbling-over and worried sick, and he obviously ached to explain properly what was wrong with him. His sister had tried to summon a focus and instead got herself stuck in Fallon’s dreams? Somewhere that didn’t sound like the Eferum, but certainly wasn’t anywhere even Rennyn had been able to spot. And this sister was now trapped on the mage island, while still being maintained by Fallon. Maybe.
It was a pity they hadn’t brought Sebastian along after all. Some whole new place that wasn’t the Eferum or maybe was, and sisters who only came out at night, would be just the sort of thing he’d love to dig into. And bore everyone for hours warbling on about how it all worked.
While everyone else was agreeing that the first thing they’d have to do would be to see if they could section off the glass golems, Kendall privately admitted that if they marched off south, Rennyn would probably only get vanished again. Fixing this problem was a thing Rennyn Claire couldn’t walk away from, any more than facing down Solace had been. All of the most powerful mages that Kendall had met had either been complete monsters, or stuck sacrificing themselves for noble causes.
Like the stupid Emperor of Kole.
Rennyn asked, in the mild tone Kendall knew to distrust: "Have you any further recommendations regarding separating the mages from the vine, Dezart Samarin?"
"I may," he said, equally mild. "I want to see them personally first."
Kendall was fairly certain that the Imperial Smugness couldn’t be the Emperor of Kole. The Kolans would sure as shine have kicked up a fuss if their Emperor had taken off on a jaunt to the Forest of Semarrak. But what else could Rennyn be suggesting, with her talk of transformations, and mages famous for healing lore. Had the Emperor traded places with someone? Who was ruling Kole while he was gone? Who would get up on that throne, put on that mask, and… No. It couldn’t be the Emperor, because Rennyn had been totally clear that the Emperor couldn’t leave that throne room, could never take off that mask. Not without dying.
Shaking her head, Kendall tossed the question to the back of her mind for later. Even though she wasn’t going to be casting, let alone fighting, she needed to focus. Anything might be a clue or a warning of an attack. Kellian instinct meant they could anticipate almost anything coming at them, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t help to watch Sukata’s back, and keep an eye on Rennyn and the Pest.
They marched all the way back to where they’d first stopped to peer into the cellar, with Rennyn writing Sigillics all the while. She handed one of the slates to Sukata, then looked at the Pest.
"Do you need to sleep to address whatever has changed? If so, I’ll put sleep on you briefly while we’re re-establishing the pattern of the constructs' patrols, but I don’t want you asleep while we’re making our attempt." She smiled faintly. "In case we need to run."
The Pest just nodded, and sat down with his back against the nearest rock. A tiny flicker of magic sent him off right away.
"His energy use has dropped with the relocation," Rennyn said, after a short pause. "If we can’t untangle this problem this afternoon, I think we’re going to have to sleep here."
Lieutenant Meniar grimaced. "Could we keep him awake all night and then bring him back here to sleep tomorrow morning?"
"Possibly. But even awake he’s likely being drained at a higher rate than normal." Rennyn handed a second slate to Lieutenant Meniar. "This is a guise-shield. It’s power-hungry, so I’d rather you didn’t have to use it, but if the constructs refuse to stay where we put them, I’d rather avoid combat if at all possible. For one thing, we don’t know precisely how they’re linked to the vine."
"They might be powered by it," Captain Faille said.
"Logical," Rennyn agreed, looking up at him. "Do you think we should try to simultaneously trap both patrols?"
Captain Faille and his mother exchanged glances, then Darian Faille said: "If we divide into two groups, then we have far less chance of withstanding an attack."
"Very well—we’re already gambling on their simplicity, after all. I’ll close the door to the room below as soon as the first patrol is in. Sukata can cast the binding. Unless Fallon has something to report."
Rennyn woke him as she spoke, and they all looked down at worry, disappointment, and frustration. After a pause, Rennyn simply handed him the last leaf from Lieutenant Meniar’s slate book.
"I don’t want to risk you casting unless it’s absolutely critical, Fallon. This is a variant guise shield—less powerful, but something we can try if the first fails. If trapping the constructs works, we’ll head to the centre of the garden and attempt to resolve this snare, and you can try sleeping again there if we see no other way forward."
The Pest nodded, though he was clearly now fretting his head off. He took the slate, chewing on his lip as if it was breakfast, and moved to stand a little to one side. Sukata, gripping her own slate very tight, moved to the very rim of the cellar, above the empty room they had experimented with before. They all waited without further conversation, watching the progress of the nearest patrol.
Ants. Bees. Constructs. Tools. A set of instructions given form. Kendall wondered if they ever rested. If they had nests somewhere in the vine-covered rooms, and got to sit down occasionally. Whether they had names, and if, looking down at them, the Kellian thought about the Ten.
The glass golems certainly didn’t seem to be looking up, going about their vine-grooming business without any hint they noticed or cared that a bunch of people were standing just outside their garden. They didn’t even react when Rennyn closed the door on them, after they’d entered the nearest empty room. They only tried to open it after they’d finished their short combing circuit of the room, and by that time Sukata had cast the binding Sigillic that made the stone of the door hold fast to the walls.
The first glass ant-thing that tried to leave was a small one, and when it reached the closed door it climbed up it, did a funny little waggle, then pattered off to one side and started around the room again. Another did the same, and then a third. It wasn’t until one of the largest of the constructs found the door closed that there was any difference: that one reared up and pushed at the door.