Chapter 150, 1/2

Chapter 150, 1/2

The Palace of the Eternal Court was as ostentatious on the inside as it was on the outside. Massive hallways. Vaulted ceilings. White and gold everywhere. One addition made this place different from the rest of the capital city of Holorulo; stone statues of people here and there in the hallways that were not what they appeared to be.

Erick didn’t see the statues himself, for he was in a side hallway following Ari and her guards to some location upstairs. Those ‘sculptures’ were on display for the public, over in the main hallway and in those side hallways, where people waited in line for numbers to then wait in chairs to eventually talk to people behind counters.

They were not simple stone statues, though.

The insides contained gold-gilded bones, while the outsides were white stone. Almost all of them had plaques nearby. Erick could barely read some of those plaques, for reading through mana sense was a little difficult, but he noticed High Clan names on most of them, and lists of deeds under those names. In death, each ‘grave’ held symbols of what the interred person did in life. Some had scrolls in their hands, or weapons, or flourishes of magic hinted at through wardlight sculptures.

As the public passed those dead people, some stopped to read what was written, others continued onward to do what they came here to do. Erick noticed that a great many of the visitors carried urns with them. Looking inside those urns, he saw skulls nestled into powdered bone.

Those urns were in use all around Erick, in smallish rooms located all over the Palace of the Eternal Court. Erick glanced to the nearest room, since the ceremony was starting. He also glanced to Teressa, who, wide-eyed, likely saw a lot more around her than he did.

A family of three stood to the side of the room, each person wearing their best clothing. An altar stood before them. A summoner stood behind the altar, wearing robes that draped across the ground like a dozen perfectly placed tendrils. It was ceremonial garb, for sure.

Upon the altar, was their urn.

The summoner twisted magic around the altar, pouring power into the urn as the family watched. The urn’s cap came off then gently sat to the side. A white skull floated up from within, followed by a trail of bone dust. The dust gently drifted into the air in front of the family, in the center of the room, directly above an inlaid design of gold and Ancient Script, followed by the skull which floated to head-height. Dust became a flickering green substance. The skull turned bright under the ministrations of the summoner.

In a flashing moment, a translucent green person stood where the skull and dust had floated, standing atop the Ancient Script runes. They wore a simple tunic and pants. In other rooms, other spirits wore expensive robes. Some wore armor. Some wore cheap robes.

And then, in that room, just like in all the other summoning rooms all around the Palace of the Eternal Court, the family started talking to their deceased. None of the living touched the dead. None of the dead touched the living. No one crossed the circular barrier in the floor, made of Ancient Script and gold.

But that wasn’t the only outcome of a summoning.

In some rooms, the summoning failed.

In some rooms, the summoning went wrong, and the summoner had to banish the spirit before it attacked either the summoner, or the people requesting the summon.

In some rooms, tears flowed from the living and the dead.

In some rooms, the living and the dead argued and railed against each other. Sometimes, arbiters came in to adjudicate whatever mess was happening. Sometimes, the arbiters were already there, on site, for the living knew in advance that there would be troubles.

Erick followed Ari for five minutes, watching the world around him, and also Ari, but mostly the world around him.

Ari’s voice brought Erick back to the moment, “We are here, Archmage Flatt.”

And they were.

They stood before a pair of ornate, double doors that were already under guard.

The guards opened the doors, and Erick followed Ari inside. Their people followed close behind, but every one of them stuck to the back of the room while Erick and Ari walked forward.

The room was larger than most, but contained all the trappings that existed in all the other summoning rooms, everywhere else in the Palace. The altar was bigger, though, like a full stone table, and the Ancient Script barrier to contain summoned spirits was on that table; not in the center of the room.

A spirit had already been summoned, too.

The translucent red spirit floated in a fetal position, above the ornate altar. Erick ignored the spirit for a moment.

Erick was able to tell that the formations on the altar were much different than the smaller binding zones in the other rooms. The altar was crisscrossed with gold and designs and words that Erick had never seen before. Only some of the designs were written in Ancient Script. There were the words for ‘Summon’ and ‘Recreate’ and ‘Stasis’ and ‘Clarity of Thought’ and ‘Clarity of Soul’, and a hundred or more other small instructions. There was no ‘Clarity of Body’ or ‘Clarity of Aura’, which would seem necessary for a true [Resurrection], but then again they weren’t trying for [Resurrection]. This space was merely for questioning the dead, and then letting them go.

But they wouldn’t be letting this red spirit go. Raidu was destined for other Ends.

Scion Raidu Terror Peaks wore the garb of a ruler, with a ceremonial robe giving him flared shoulders, trailing sleeves, and a long skirt that all curled up as though he was inside a gentle vortex as he floated there, ethereal and dead.

There was another person in the room, too. A few, actually.

Hangzi stood to the side, with his own pair of guards standing behind him. He looked resolute, and ready to move on. He also looked somehow stronger than the last time Erick had seen him.

Erick turned to the Patriarch of Devouring Nightmare, and said, “Greetings, Patriarch Hangzi Devouring Nightmare. I did not expect to see you here, but I can imagine that you wish to get this over with as soon as possible.” He asked, “How is Warzi doing?”

Hangzi breathed, then said, “When I was informed that you would be questioning him today, I made the time; Yes, I wish to put this dread affair into the past.” He added, “Warzi is doing better. The loss of Yorza has been difficult for him, as it has been for us all, but he is a strong boy, and he will be stronger in the future.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Erick turned to the floating form of Raidu, saying, “Elder Arilitilo has given me a good overview of the questions and answers Raidu has already provided, but I had hoped to get the full notes before we started the actual questioning. But this room is empty.” He asked Ari and Hangzi, “Where are those notes?”

Hangzi lifted his head, then turned to one of his guards. The guard stepped away in a flash of black, as Hangzi turned back to Erick, saying, “They are not kept on site, but they will be here momentarily.”

Ari stepped to the side, toward Raidu, as she spoke to Erick, “Since you will be reading, would you like to adjourn to a side room? Tea is available.” She gestured to a side door.

Beyond was a simple room; likely a place to talk without being in the presence of the contained spirit.

“That would be acceptable,” Erick said.

Hangzi had a disagreeable look for a moment, then he banished that look, and took the lead, saying, “We have hours of discourse with the man. Allow me to answer whatever questions you have while you read, but do not overtax our time. I wish this man gone from this reality, forthwith.”

“Agreeable.” Erick said, “So you know, I am not opposed to whatever ruling you pull, here, but I have heard that soul sundering is a fate worse than death.”

The unspoken question was, did Hangzi want that on his conscience?

“It is what he deserves for sending so many of our people to their deaths.”

Ah. Okay then.

Like.

If anyone deserved a sundering, Raidu probably did.

Erick let Hangzi’s desire remain unchallenged, as Hangzi’s guard blipped back into the hallway beyond the double doors, then walked in with a folder-full of papers. Hangzi took them from his man, and handed them to Erick.

Soon, Erick was inside the side room and drinking tea as he read, alone, and Hangzi remained in the summoning room with Raidu, glaring at the sleeping spirit. It wasn’t an unproductive time for the boy-Patriarch, either; he merely spoke to others outside the space through [Telepathy].

Erick could have gotten these notes earlier, but he was always planning on getting these notes while Raidu was in the other room. He needed to get in the right headspace for talking to the spirit, and these notes were going to be how he got there. It wasn’t his fault that Hangzi chose to be here when he hadn’t been invited.

Erick had a passing thought, wondering how he would have gotten these notes if Hangzi hadn’t been here. That might have been awkward for someone, somewhere. Good thing that didn’t happen.

... Erick wouldn’t make the man wait overlong.

So Erick read about questions and answers and half answers, trying to understand, for himself, the reasons for the war with Terror Peaks, and for the shift from normal warfare, to terrorism and civilian killing.

Reading Raidu’s answers was a bit maddening, for the reasons for war was a line of simple causality.

It started with overpopulation, over twenty years in the making, and worsening.

Overpopulation was a particularly disastrous event for Patriarch Xangu, because for the last five years he had been losing absolute political power to the Pacifist Faction. That faction wanted to concentrate on war with the monsters, only, while Xangu rose to power by being ruthless with nearby warlord clans, chasing them away and securing the safety of Terror Peaks. But without the problem of those warlord clans, pacifism started to look rather nice to the population. Who wanted to fight with other people when there were monsters to kill? There was even talk of allying with Songli once again.

And so, Xangu had all of the pacifists killed in a small-scale purge he had instituted five months ago.

From there, things spiraled out of control for dozens of different reasons, not the least of which was that Xangu had been found out by many, and so, Xangu needed a scapegoat.

But then a miracle occurred.

Ar’Kendrithyst fell to Erick, in the Last Shadow’s Feast.

Xangu and Raidu and all of the Main House were poised for a massive, sweeping change to come across the world, and so they capitalized on the fervor of the people. As everyone was wondering what would happen, Xangu directed the narrative toward there being some massive Wizard/Melemizargo/Shade plot, unfolding across the world. A war would be the perfect reason to kill off all of the opposition, and make the Main House strong again, so they worked toward that goal.

With that, Raidu helped his father to talk to friendly, nearby clans, to formulate responses in case of large-scale problems.

When the Converter Angel’s taint was uncovered, much of Terror Peak’s base solidified. There would be a war now; it was only a matter of when, and against who.

When Erick purged the Forest of two ancient monsters, and looked to be able to purge the world of more, the narrative shifted hard against Xangu. Xangu was on the verge of losing his legitimacy. So Raidu had to assassinate a few opposition leaders to keep in power, which he did.

When Goldie, the Shade of Assassination, started leaving notes on people’s pillows, it was another indication that war was coming. A war that the Main House would win. A war to end all wars.

When news of Songli’s anti-antirhine treatment broke, it fit the narrative of war, and of Shade plots.

And then Erick appeared on Songli’s side.

Peace was never an option.

Those were the major points and the minor points, strung together into a whole that Erick had not seen written down until this moment, and that Ari had not told him when they spoke around this topic. Erick didn’t blame Ari for that; she likely didn’t want to be the one to tell him all of this shit.

He felt a pit in his stomach as he read, as he saw how the last year played out for Terror Peaks.

He moved on.

Erick read more on the soul spear, but Raidu hadn’t been involved in that, so there wasn’t much. All he knew was that one day, Warchanter Farloa, their Elder of Enchantments, acquired the soul spears from an unknown source. Farloa was the name of the woman who had appeared on Patriarch Xangu’s side, when he gave his declaration on those [Viewing Screen]s that appeared over the bombed temples of Koyabez. Farloa had been responsible for those destructions, as well as the [Gate] attack on the Alluvial District. She was the one who cast those [Gate]s, and who created the bombs to push through those [Gate]s.

Farloa was dead; killed in action in the breach of Terror Peaks’ enchanting houses.

Erick had killed her with a [Luminous Beam]. He remembered doing that. He remembered all the people he had erased from the wor—

Erick’s mind recoiled like he had touched a hot burner on a stove.

After a moment...nôvel binz was the first platform to present this chapter.

He moved on.

All of the questions about angelic interference were in the back of the reading. About twenty four pages had been filled with text about angelic and demonic presences inside Terror Peaks, spanning much of the last year, but going further than that, to twenty years ago.

And there was nothing in any of that reading aside from Raidu leading the charge against this angelic force or that demonic force, cleaving the Quiet War in twain before it had a chance to erupt in Terror Peaks’ backyard. Terror Peaks wanted a war, but they did not want to get involved in the Forever War.

Erick closed the folder. He had spent twenty minutes reading.

This had been more than enough time for another person to show for Raidu’s final questioning and execution. A red incani waited in the room beyond, wearing white robes but looking more like a mercenary than a diplomat, because that’s what she was.

Erick left the side room and stepped back into the main room, greeting the newcomer, “Hello again, Tyli.”

Tyli was an Elite who worked for the Headmaster. She had also come to Spur to help with the Messalina problem, and before that, she guarded Erick’s house when it seemed like something was going to happen to him while he was developing [Cascade Imaging]. She was exactly the same bright red incani who Erick remembered, though she looked more formal in her current outfit.

Tyli stood straight, saying, “Greetings, Archmage Flatt. If you do not mind, I have a message of congratulations from the Headmaster. It is nothing that needs be private, unless you wish it to be.”

Erick almost flinched. He had expected the Headmaster to attempt contact through whatever Elite he sent to poke around at the soul spears, which had to be [Duplicate]d. But already? Now? Here? The Headmaster was getting right to the point, then. What did he want? For Erick to come to Oceanside right now? That seemed like a bad idea, for Erick had heard lots about dragons recently, and he did not want to be accidentally responsible for causing a dragon fight. And also...

If he saw the Headmaster right now...

If he got anywhere near the Headmaster, Erick was going to ask about Kirginatharp’s brother, Idyrvamikor, and the causes of the Dragon Curse,

As well as a ton of questions about Last Shadow’s Feast.

Raidu banged against the invisible cage that stretched up from the altar to the ceiling. In a flashing, angry moment, the Scion of Terror Peaks became a storm of red gasses that filled his cage. His fists and face and feet appeared out of the mist as he struck the surrounding invisible walls with all his ethereal might. Raidu screamed.

Erick watched.

Ari moved the sunderer into the altar’s space, and Raidu’s ghastly form suddenly crashed up, back to something somewhat human as he held against the ceiling, trying to get away from the object down below. As Ari took her arms out of the space, she twisted a knob on the side of the contraption, and the inverted diamond ‘hat’ slipped downward, to touch the spherical core.

And that was all it took to make a magical object.

The air above the altar began to move.

Pulling at Raidu.

He cursed the world and everyone in it and especially the Wizards and the pawns of Darkness that led him here. He cursed Erick. He cursed Songli. He cursed Rozeta.

With Raidu’s voice roaring over hers, Ari calmly spoke as though reading from a script, “The judgment of sundering has been initiated in accordance with the laws of Songli. Raidu Terror Peaks will become nothing, giving us everything in return.”

Almost clinically, Erick dissected what he saw.

Grand cores had this ability to sustain themselves that was unique to them. They could only grow when inside a living monster, though. Thanks to what he knew about the shadelings of Candlepoint, and other monsters, normal, small cores could not sustain themselves forever without being inside a living being.

Shadelings had to cycle their mana in order to sustain their cores, otherwise they would degrade, and even with proper cycling, they still had to ‘eat’ the cores of other monsters every so often, or else their own core would degrade. There was a lot of maintenance to being a shadeling that went above and beyond what it took to live a life as a normal person. There were some bonuses, too, but Erick felt it would be a hassle to be a shadeling, and many agreed with him. Back in Candlepoint, many chanced getting back their human body through communion with Melemizargo; through attempting to undo their [Reincarnation] that made them shadelings in the first place.

Erick suspected that if a shadeling ever developed a grand core, that would make them a Shade.

For grand cores had this ability to pull mana into themselves. Grand cores didn’t grow when outside a physical form, but they could certainly sustain their own existence. If you dropped off a depleted rod of [Whatever Spell] next to a grand core, that grand core would even help to stabilize and [Renew] (ha!) the spellwork inside those rods of [Whatever Spell]s. You couldn’t put too many depleted rods next to the grand cores, or else the grand core would eventually dim and die just like normal cores, for the rods next to it would suck up the mana instead of it. Eventually, this would break the grand core.

There was a way around that, though.

Erick had once seen an arrangement inside Brightwater, inside the Temple District, where some mana-focusing arrays had been laid down on the ground in a small room, and grand rads had been piled into the middle, and the walls of the room were full of cubbyholes, each absolutely filled with magic wands. That particular arrangement caused the grand rads to act as the tiny motor in an inducement array, causing so much more mana to flow through the space than would otherwise happen naturally.

With that increased flow, those grand rads could sustain themselves as well as refill the power of every nearby wand with all of their cast-off mana.

What Erick saw now, was sort of like that, except there were no wands to fill with power.

The mana draw was a simple draw, but it was also filled with teeth.

The sunderer stood below the misty, raging Raidu, as the spirit of the man struggled to not be pulled into the object. He was failing.

Tiny mists of his soul had filled the entire trapping space above the altar, no matter how much he tried to keep himself away from the object of his demise. Before Ari had placed the sunderer, those tiny bits had nowhere to go. Now they had a destination.

The glass focuser had a few white glows; trace magics from the white grand core in the base, no doubt. Now, though, there were red glows. Now, Raidu’s misty form flowed downward, pulled by the inexorable power of the grand core.

Erick watched with his mana sense.

A critical reaction took place inside the glass diamond.

Red light turned iridescent white, and then, like the breaking of a dam, new mana flowed into the world from every part of the glass, like light, like air, like water, and like none of those things at all. Only a tiny bit of Raidu had been consumed; practically nothing at all. But what came out was a tsunami of thick air. The room was somehow designed for this, though, and the walls directed the thick air up and out of the building, instead of washing through all the nearby rooms, alerting everyone that a sundering was taking place.

Erick pulled his mana sense away from the sunderer itself as he felt himself get pulled inside; cycled into the mana like Raidu’s spirit was being cycled. As he metaphorically stepped back, he noticed his own clothes were rippling as thick air fluttered past them in inordinate quantity. It was the same sort of tsunami that happened when he [Cleanse]d the Shades that one time, except it wasn’t a flow that took an instant to travel, and then was over. It was a flow that only grew stronger, and stronger. A roil of power, a flow of mana.

And in that turmoil, Erick caught memories that were not his own.

He saw the first stab of a sword into a monster at age 7, killing the mist stone glutton and receiving the praise of his uncle.

He saw Raidu, at age 23, killing his uncle for being a Pacifist and siding against Raidu's father, Patriarch Xangu.

He saw Raidu bed his first woman.

He saw Raidu single-handedly save people he didn’t care about from monsters that they should have been able to kill themselves. And then Raidu went back a year later, at the same yearly monster surge, and watched as those same people died to the same problem they could have prepared against, but didn't. Raidu listening to them cry out for help and called them worthless in turn. He told them to save themselves, and they could not.

Erick saw too much.

He saw a life being sundered, after all. Every path taken. Every choice made, or time of rest, and even every path not taken, converted into possibility, into mana. He saw Raidu kill his father and side with his uncle. He saw Raidu bed his first man. He saw Raidu save people who he had chosen to leave to die.

A sundering wasn’t a simple death. It was the conversion of everything a person was, or could ever be, into pure possibility.

People naturally exuded these possibilities every moment of existence. Every moment the soul existed, it filled the world with chance and option, with thoughts and feelings and logic, and when tied to a body, souls filled the world with action, and influence, and more. Souls made mana.

People made a lot of mana.

Raidu wasn’t even a smidgen gone. His nearly-full spirit still clung to the roof of his cage, but his unguarded self, the bits that had drifted down and away, had been sucked into the sunderer. Those bits pulled on what remained, like a thread pulling from an afghan, eventually pulling apart the entire blanket.

The bits that had already gone into the sunder, pulled in the rest of Raidu.

Ah

Yes.

Erick saw it now.

This is why the Headmaster called this a fate worse than death.

He still watched, though, as the thinner parts of Raidu pulled at the larger parts of him, and it wasn’t long till thready mists pulled in a hem, and then a hand, and then the final sundering came as the remaining half of Raidu couldn’t hold himself away anymore. He snapped into the sunderer like the closing of a trap.

A storm of thick air billowed away from the sunderer, filling the room with a wash of rainbow light.

The lightshow passed; directed upward and out of the building.

The air above the sunderer was clear.

Raidu was gone.

Ari reached into the altar space and cranked a mechanism on the sunderer, disconnecting the surface of the glass diamond from the spherical core. As she took the sunderer back to its hidden alcove, Erick was surprised that the core was still white. Erick expected it to be pink, or something. But no; Raidu’s soul was not trapped in there. His soul was gone forever; made into mana.

Pulled apart into potential.

A year ago, Erick would have puked out his guts. Now, he just said, “It is over.” He said to Hangzi, “I approve of the paddy house you’ve placed the other Blessed in. I did not know such a location existed, where people cared for the mental health of those who have been broken by this life.”

His words might have seemed out of place, but Erick had a reason for the distraction. He had needed to get Hangzi’s mind onto something better than what he had just seen, for he could tell that Hangzi had not expected to see what he had seen.

At Erick’s words, Hangzi came out of a disturbed fugue like a man coming out of a horror movie. He had obviously never sundered someone before. He had heard of it, for sure, and he knew the basics, no doubt, but the sight and the sounds of it... It was a good thing these rooms were somewhat soundproof.

Hangzi said, “Ah.” He elaborated, “Ah. Yes. Severing Crescent’s paddy houses are good for soldiers suffering from War Response and other maladies of the mind. We had to shuffle some people around to get all of the Blessed in one location, but they seem to be showing progress already.” He rapidly went back to Raidu’s final rant, half-desperately asking, “What was that part about ‘manaminers’? What was that, and...” His words trailed off, as desperation for answers turned to realization that he shouldn't be demanding anything of Erick, for various reasons. And then, another realization came upon Hangzi; he needed to speak his words for he was the Patriarch of Devouring Nightmare. He stared Erick in the eyes, saying, “None of Raidu’s words were a surprise to you.”

Erick was incredulous for half a moment at the hidden accusations in Hangzi’s words, wondering what sort of implications were going through the man’s mind. Then he calmed his own odd emotions.

Erick simply said, “If Raidu had said anything about war or angels or coordination— Anything at all about actionable intelligence, then I would have given his final rants some thought. But all that? He likely suspected that you would let him exist in some form or another, and was therefore planting seeds for a future harvest. Those words were merely twisted versions of the truth. If you want to know about the darker parts of magic, you should consult your Elders of Lore. But in the case of manaminers, knowing what they are is like knowing that Veird revolves around the sun, and the moons revolve around Veird; interesting, but not useful for daily life. And very much not how Raidu described them.” Erick added, “As far as I know.” He added, “And I have no idea what the fuck that was about Rozeta being a Dark God. Another ploy, no doubt.”

“But why did you say Raidu was right?”

At that, Erick was surprised, and then a little pissed off. Could Hangzi not see why he did that?

Really?

No, no, Erick. He’s still a kid at 19, no matter that he’s the Patriarch of a High Clan. He doesn’t know what he doesn’t know. But he should know this! Maybe he’s just upset. Yes. That must be it.

Erick decided to go with the diplomatic response. “That was me trying to get him to reveal his knowledge of Xangu. It almost worked, too, but then his memory blanked.”

Hangzi looked like he had been slapped, but then his royal mien returned. “Right. Of course.” He looked to the altar. Not even bones remained. The surface was pristine, with gold runes glittering in the white stone. Hangzi declared, “The sentence has passed. Justice is done. There’s still a lot of rebuilding to do, so it’s time to get back to work.” He turned to Erick and bowed his head only, then said, “Your expertise is appreciated. Please send to Elder Varo if you have time for a dinner while you are staying with us. I would like to consult with you about various needs and wants. Good day, Archmage Flatt.”

Erick bowed in turn. “Good day, Patriarch Hangzi.”

Hangzi and his guards walked out the door, and away.

Tyli looked to Erick, asking, “Will you be able to search for our suspects, now?”

Erick said, “Please see me at my house on First Devouring Nightmare Mountain in an hour with everything you need searched for. We’re going to have a small talk before we do that, but I don’t foresee any problems.” He dismissed her, saying, “It was nice to meet you again, Tyli. I need to talk to Elder Arilitilo, now.”

Tyli stood straight, then bowed, saying, “Archmage.” She walked away.

Somewhere in the last minutes, the Headmaster had turned his sight away from here, but Erick did not know when, exactly, that had happened.

Ari waited with her guards at her back.

Erick turned to Ari, saying, “Thank you for this, Ari. I was not aware what a sundering entailed, and I can honestly say that I hope to never see it again. I will be staying in Holorulo for a while because my daughter is still contracted to work for Star Song. I am still interested in the lessons we had planned, if you have time to give them. Would you be available for such?”

Ari said, “Unfortunately, I will not be able to assist you with Blood Magic at this time. Elder Xue should be able to—”

“I insist.” Erick said, “Please find a way to make time.”

The guards behind Ari did not flinch. They didn’t do much of anything, except to look at Erick, then look away, straight ahead.

So Ari was a prisoner, eh?

Erick had suspected, but that confirmed it.

Ari did not frown, but only because she was holding that emotion back. “I have a great many duties to attend to now that the majority of our high ranking Court Necromancers are dead and dispersed due to the actions of Terror Peaks. If I may, I will look to make time for your needs, Archmage Flatt, but as of right now I cannot. I ask you instead, to seek out Elder Xue, and ask of him what you would ask of me.”

“... I see.” Erick said, “Then I will be doing that.”

Ari bowed, and held there.

Erick looked down at the woman, and then turned and walked away. When he was out of the room, Ari stood straight. When Erick had reached a further hallway, Ari was exiting the room they were just in, with one guard walking in front of her, and another guard walking behind. They were guiding her elsewhere; somewhere out of sight.

And in every other summoning room with a summoner, the summoner had two guards with them; not directly with them, in a lot of cases, but positioned outside of the rooms, or in the corners of rooms, or nearby. Every summoner had a prominent gold necklace around their neck, too; they were easy to pick out of a crowd.

And what was stranger still, was that Erick had tried to telepathically connect with Ari a few times this whole time, but Ari had gently denied every connection. She hadn’t even tried to subvocalize her concerns to him. Her guards would definitely see if she had a tendril of thought hanging around her head, too, so that was probably why she didn’t return his calls.

Erick almost asked Poi what was going on, but he had no doubt that people were mana sensing him, too, just as much as he was mana sensing everyone else. Only a few people gave away that particular game in their glances and their flinching tells; they must have been new at this. But there were quite a few people capable of mana sensing in this Palace of the Eternal Court.

That made sense, since you needed that skill to be able to purchase [Soul Sight], which seemed absolutely necessary for any potential necromancer, and particularly for the jailers of the necromancers.

There was something deeply disturbing about this house of souls, and Erick was going to get to the bottom of it.

Sooner or later.

Ari had saved his life; he would be damned if he couldn’t do the same.