Chapter 197: A Life's Work

Chapter 197: A Life's Work

Sebastien

Month 8 Day 9, Monday 5:15 p.m.

Sebastiens eyes eagerly focused on the first page of Myrddins journal. His handwriting was a little messy, somewhat overly looping and decorative, but she could read it with a little extra effort.

The first page held a single paragraph. Some of the words were spelled strangely, and some of them were archaic choices that shed never heard anyone actually use. These, she mentally translated into what she guessed were their contemporary counterparts to more easily parse the meaning.



I considered writing this in my native language, but it has been so long the movements feel strange under the tip of my pen, and my hand is clumsy with it. To think what it would be like to attempt with a quill! I find before me the endeavor of a lifetime, a goal truly worthy of all my efforts, and I can only lament that I wasted so much time on foolishness and self-indulgence. I will make penance for the consequences of my actions by fixing the wrongs I have caused, if it is the last thing I do. Please wait, and though I do not deserve it, please forgive me, as I can never forgive myself.



That was all it said.

When Sebastien turned the page, the paper briefly flashed with another two glyphs. She almost fumbled the switch in her Wills focus, but though her heart jumped in trepidation, the contents of the journal remained clear.

Sebastien let out a tremulous breath of relief. The contents of the next page seemed completely disconnected from what she quickly realized must have been a preface.



That jackass Tarquin has come up with a viable method for self-charging artifacts.

I cannot hate him too much, as it seems likely that this will be a critical component of The Work, and he has unknowingly made my job easier.

But the concept will need improvement. And testing. Lots of testing.

I cannot make any more mistakes where it counts.



After that, the rest of the page and the one after contained complex calculations, some diagrams, and what seemed to be various spell array elements that were never quite combined into a whole. Myrddin had added notes and questions to himself, sometimes answering them and sometimes seeming to skip to some other only tangentially related idea.

This is the method to create self-charging artifacts like my transformation amulet, Sebastien thought, her chest filling with wonder and delight. That delight soon sank away. But I cannot understand it at all.

She wasnt sure if that was because Myrddins notes were nearly incomprehensible or if she simply didnt know enough about artificery and whatever other underlying principles he was referencing. She had wanted to take that class and been forced to give up the idea, but even after two semesters of artificery, she doubted she would be able to figure out what Myrddin was talking about.

Reading while continuing to apply her Will in two different directions was difficult, and she couldnt even begin to attempt to puzzle out anything confusing. She had only the barest shred of concentration left over. To be able to study anything from Myrddins journal, she would need to copy it out elsewhere by rote, then release her Will from the journal.

Every time Sebastien turned the page, two more glyphs flashed, and she had to quickly switch the focus of her Will. Even though she wasnt channeling any power, keeping the book from descending into incomprehensibility again was surprisingly straining in a different way than unlocking it in the first place had been. After a few minutes she could already feel her mind growing tired. It was like holding ones arms straight out to either side. It seemed like it should have been effortless, but soon enough even strong muscles would start to burn, tremble, and falter.

Sebastien moved faster, skimming over the pages instead of trying to read them in detail with her faltering attention.

Myrddin finished the development of the self-charging artifacts concept, and over four pages after that, wrote down some truncated spell instructions and a full set of spell arrays. It was all still far beyond her, but at least somewhat more comprehensible than his notes had been.

The pages after that dealt with a second method to achieve the same thing, and just as she was turning the page of what seemed to be yet a third method to create self-charging artifacts, her Will slipped.

Sebastien drew back her concentration with a flinch, but there was no pain, confusion, or frayed thoughts. She hadnt actually been casting, after all. With no energy being channeled, there was nothing to cause backlash.

She stared at the incomprehensible pages, then laughed, giddiness bubbling up and out of her throat like a living thing. She stood and paced back and forth wildly, unable to contain all of her energy in stillness. I did it. I did it! she crowed internally.

And it turns out Myrddin actually wasnt the initial inventor of the self-charging artifact, though he seems to have improved and expanded upon the initial concept quite a lot. Im pretty sure that last method was using a beast core for energy, which is definitely a lost art, Sebastien thought, remembering a small footnote in a book shed read about artificery.

Myrddin was also rumored to have developed artifacts that could be triggered with Will alone. Maybe this journal would explain how that worked, if she could get far enough into it. Maybe it would explain how he had made her transformation amulet. Truly, wondrous knowledge lies between these pages, she thought, hugging the book to her chest like it was a beloved child. It might not have the answer to creating purified celerium, but to me, other lost knowledge is just as valuable. And I am the only one with access.

It was easy to see how some thaumaturges grew so greedy with their spells and little inventions. There was something about being the only one to have a secret, to decide who might know and who would remain ignorant, that felt like being better than everyone else. It wasnt true, of course, but she could see how one might get the two confused and be unable to give up on that perception out of pride or fear.

Once Sebastien had gotten over her fit of giddiness, she spent the rest of the evening trying to get back into the journal.

She had no success, and returned to the dorms barely in time to avoid missing curfew.

This repeated for the next three days, until on Friday, the newspapers reported on a confirmed sighting of the Raven Queen in Silva Erde.

The Architects of Khronos had used the raven-summoning spell in the middle of a large city, in the middle of the day. And that evening, they had cast a giant illusion on low hanging clouds. A woman cloaked in fluttering, tattered darkness walked through the firmament, appearing from the curve of one cloud and eventually disappearing behind another, returning to the darkness from whence she came.

Im pretty sure they just cast a light spell up at the clouds and then used a moving silhouette to simulate the Raven Queen moving above, Sebastien deduced based on her own experience with how overblown the newspaper reports could be.

The papers were all speculating about why the Raven Queen had moved to Silva Erde, with many of them stating with confidence that she must have run from Lenore to escape the Thirteen Crowns power. Despite only a week having passed since Enniss escape from the labor camp, none of the reporters dared to jump to what must have been the obvious, enticing speculation about whether or not she had broken him free.

The coppers probably wont let their guard down entirely, but Im sure theyll stop looking so hard. Maybe in a couple of months, I can get the Architects to fake another sighting and really solidify the idea that Ive left.

Sebastien stopped by the library after Practical Casting to finish her homework, planning to go to her apartment again right after dinner.

But Ana skipped up beside her and announced, Were going to the Glasshopper! Damiens treat, in exchange for losing the bet with me on Monday. Set aside whatever ridiculous study project youre working on and come with us! Consider it active recovery.

Sebastien hesitated, but the offer of free, delectable food, when compared against another evening of disappointment and frustration, was simply too good to pass up. With a surge of defiance, she agreed.

Talk among her friends was mostly focused around the end of month exams and magical exhibitions. Sebastien listened without contributing her own opinion, allowing her mind to relax and ride the gentle waves of conversation.

Rhett was the only one not with them, as he had a previously scheduled date with some upper-term duelist woman that hed been struggling to get to pay attention to him all term.

As they approached the transport tubes, one of the faculty members across the white stone entrance area watched their group with a bit too much interest for Sebastiens comfort.

Waverly peeked at the man from under her fringe of black hair, then moved to the other side so that Brinn and Damien would keep her out of sight. As the smallest of their group, the others made easy cover. Hurry, she muttered.

As they all reached the limits of their stomach capacity and began to get sloppy on alcohol, Damien grew quiet and distracted, frowning into his bubbly, frothing drink, which had come in a tiny edible cauldron.

Father is going to be sentenced soon, Alec announced. I really hope they put him in a labor camp. I heard sometimes people get out with just a huge fine and their Family name stripped from them. Can you imagine how he would be? He shuddered.

He killed a prostitute. They found some pretty good evidence. You always do time for murder, Ana said. She paused to hiccup, then continued, And more importantly, my father wouldnt let him stay free to stab him in the back out of some misdirected revenge.

Damien swirled his drink, letting false smoke spill over the side and down his hands. My father has been away for months, and its been wonderful. I wish he oversaw army training exercises all the time.

Ana swayed in her seat, frowning in confusion as she popped a glowing candy the size of a grape into her mouth. It exploded audibly, and she sneezed out gold and red sparks. I thought Lord Westbay was training the private security for some new research facility. You know, after what happened with that terrorist attack. Maybe it was just a rumor.

Well, maybe its true. Not like Father would bother to tell me anything, Damien said sardonically. Even Titus has been too busy to have me home for the weekend for weeks now.

Ana rounded on Damien, accidentally twisted too far, and Sebastien had to catch her to keep her from tipping her chair over backward.

Thank you, Ana said, patting Sebastiens arm like someone would praise a dog. Damien! Titus is putting too much responsibility on you. I know youre excited about your Harrow Hill internship this fall, but it hasnt even started and just the practice p-project is driving you to distraction. You shouldnt have to develop new filing methods all by yourself, dont you think? Hire an expert, I say. Youre not a clerk. And isnt it so sad that you havent even seen your brother in weeks? Why is he too busy to make time for you? She sniffed loudly, her lower lip pouting out.

Brinn gave everyone a pacifying smile. Im sure Titus has been very busy, what with the Raven Queen and those Architects of Khronos people on top of everything else.

Do you think Nats sad, too? Ana asked softly. Shes probably lonely and too thoughtful to say anything, dont you think?

As if he hadnt heard her, Damien nodded at Brinn. Oh, its not even just that. Well, maybe the Raven Queen or the Architects are behind it, but people have been disappearing from among the commoners. Investigating the disappearances is drawing the coppers thin, and the High Crown doesnt want to approve any budget increases because he says their performance is too poor, but really, what are they supposed to do?

Sebastien frowned. I didnt know about the disappearances. Let me guess. Theyre happening among the poor people? Maybe the homeless?

Of course. Damien glowered into his drink. One of the new captains discovered what seems to be systematic and escalating numbers of disappearances.

Blood magic or serial killer? Waverly asked.

Hopefully the latter, Ana said, enunciating carefully to keep from slurring. When Brinn frowned at her judgmentally, she added, I mean, hopefully neither, obviously. But if I had to pick one, a serial killer, human trafficker, or anything like that is way less dangerous than a blood magic user doing something horrid with all of those lives. An Aberrant endangers everybody.

Damien and Sebastien shared a look, but they didnt argue.

Soon after, they left the Glasshopper. It had rained while they were eating, and the warm light of the streetlamps reflected beautifully off the shallow puddles and rain-slicked cobblestones. It was the wettest summer in Siobhans memory, seeming to rain almost every other evening.

Before they could hail a carriage, a boy on the street corner called out, Extra, extra! Breaking news. Red Guard fight against a rogue magic user in the streets!

Damien took a sharp breath and seemed to partially shake off his inebriation in the few seconds it took him to reach the paper boy and buy the single leaflet of breaking news. Sebastien moved over, both of them standing beneath the streetlamp as she read over his shoulder. The extra didnt actually say much of substance.

A Red Guard team had fought a running battle with a man just a few blocks east of Waterside Market earlier that evening. Some impressive spells had been tossed back and forth, but nothing like what the old Red Guard defector had cast at Knave Knoll. Several people had been injured, a jentil had died, and one persons house had collapsed when an entire wall got blown out.

Maybe it was the kidnapper, Ana said, still swaying on her feet. Trying to do blood magic.

Or one of the Architects, Brinn added.

Or one of the Raven Queens acolytes? Alec said. Just because shes in Silva Erde doesnt mean all of her allies have left.

Sebastien considered several possibilities. All of them were worrying at some level. In the end, instead of escorting her friends back to the dorms herself, she stuffed them all into a carriage and paid the driver extra to ensure that they arrived safely at their destination.

Damien tried to protest, any soberness that hed felt from his adrenaline spike clearly wearing out as his last drink of the evening hit his bloodstream.

Fortunately, Sebastien had a ready-made excuse. There isnt enough room. Besides, I want to pick up a few things while Im out. Ill be there before curfew. Technically, on weekend nights the curfew only precluded students from wandering University grounds and buildings, and didnt require they actually stay in the dorms. Higher-term students had even fewer restrictions.

You cant pay for the carriage, he tried to tell her, quite serious but slurring. You dont have any money. I know all about it. Wait, no, its me that doesnt have any money. He pressed a hand to his chest, smiling sloppily. Were poor together, now.

Im rich, she assured him, then shoved him firmly back into his seat and shut the carriage door. As soon as the carriage was out of sight, she hurried to the lock box to check for a response from Professor Lacer. Ill swing by the apartment just to make sure it wasnt Liza or one of Geras people who got taken by the Red Guard, too, she planned.

To her delight, there was a letter waiting for her, but when she picked it up, the smile slid from her face. There were two letters. One envelope was blank and expensive looking, as she had been expecting. The other was of much cheaper paper and had been signed with a crude drawing of a raven feather.

Sebastien ran her finger over the drawing. Something from Tanya? she guessed. Sebastien had used a similar drawing in place of a more traditional signature a couple of times when leaving notes for the young woman in her dorm. Her suspicion mounting, she hurried to find a dark alley where she would be shielded from the sight of anyone passing by, then used her thirteen-pointed star light coaster to illuminate the paper as she opened the letter.

The message within was quite simple.



My lady, I am leaving this message for you on Friday the 13th.



Sebastien looked around again suspiciously. Tanya must have dropped it off some time earlier that day. Reassured that no one was watching her, Sebastien continued reading.



I am not sure if you will find it important, but I have overheard some loose talk by the Architects of Khronos. I suspect they are planning to kidnap a group of people from Osham, and have in fact already sent a strike team. From what I overheard, and my own speculation, this seemsbig. I do not know the purpose of this assault, nor where these people may be kept, but I find the timing suspicious. It seems unlikely that they would attempt to pin such an act on you, but you are known to be traveling, and I thought you might like to know, just in case.

I hope you get this letter soon.

I will attempt to find out more if you instruct me to do so.

Loyally yours,

TC



Sebastien gave a deep sigh, tilting her head up to look at the night sky. Thismight be important. I think perhaps I should talk to Oliver. Hes from Osham, after all.