There had been a thread, a spark of inspiration that he had been trying to chase. The difference between the older Ascended and the new had almost given him the seeds of a plan for capturing the monsters that hunted the week of darkness—
The Queen’s swift dismissiveness killed it aborning, the idea flickering out like a candle against a storm, and Jigano sagged a little in his chair as the weight of hopelessness descended more fully upon him. ”An item to mute mechanical abilities?” he echoed Remi dully. ”If the gods could make such a thing, wouldn’t they have used it against the Voice already? And somehow I don’t see her offering such a treasure up.” He glanced toWessex with humor, wry and black, bleeding into the blue of his gaze. ”But it might not hurt to ask. Well. Not much.” Then again, it might very well hurt a great deal, as Remi knew better than most.
Wessex’s admission that he was right almost drew him out of his growing depression in surprise, though it was short-lived. A group of Ascended sweeping the night could protect a fair bit of the Sanctuary, at least, if not the whole Settlement. A single woman? No matter how regal, the Wraith couldn’t be everywhere at once, and she’d be greatly outnumbered. Not to mention she’d just told them that she might have a target painted on her back for at least one of the monsters. They had proven smart enough to lay a trap with the destruction of the perch last year; what was to say they wouldn’t do it again, only more personalized for her this year?
‘Personal’ being far too likely to include Rory for the fox’s liking.
”If you’re going to be out in the dark, watch out for traps,” he growled reluctantly. ”Especially… especially if they know where Rory lives, and are trying to get at you through him.” The farmer was still the one thing that could get through his pride when the darkness raised shutters around his soul; for his mate, he’d deal with the Queen with a civil tongue. Or at least, something like one.
He glanced to Remi, not sure if the alchemist had seen the light behind him as he’d flown away with what was probably a concussion, but the bard gave a curt nod to them both. ”A luxere first, and then a spark bird, though only one at a time, and they both seemed to drain him fairly quickly.”
He scowled at the unwelcome reminder that he was losing himself, piece by piece. Each time he let the rage loose it was harder to fight it back, and he found a little more of his soul had been lost. He had held it at bay – or at least, hidden its worst effects – longer than most, but the closer Deepfrost crept, the stronger it grew. It was, however, enough to remind him of the other item he’d meant to raise. With Ronin, he’d thought back then, but now…
”We need a list of the blighted,” he admitted, though he had to force the words past his distaste. ”Remi can make a list of symptoms better than I at this point. Loren and I started making a list of afflicted, for what it’s worth. If you find a cure, you’ll want to know who to get it to as quickly as possible. Don’t want to miss anyone. Here.” He dug the paper out of his bag and pushed it to the middle of the table. The handwriting was atrocious, shaky and barely legible, but it held the names of six people:
Ronin
Jigano
Phoebe
Kiada
Melita
Caiside?
”It’s a start, at least.”
The Queen’s swift dismissiveness killed it aborning, the idea flickering out like a candle against a storm, and Jigano sagged a little in his chair as the weight of hopelessness descended more fully upon him. ”An item to mute mechanical abilities?” he echoed Remi dully. ”If the gods could make such a thing, wouldn’t they have used it against the Voice already? And somehow I don’t see her offering such a treasure up.” He glanced to
Wessex’s admission that he was right almost drew him out of his growing depression in surprise, though it was short-lived. A group of Ascended sweeping the night could protect a fair bit of the Sanctuary, at least, if not the whole Settlement. A single woman? No matter how regal, the Wraith couldn’t be everywhere at once, and she’d be greatly outnumbered. Not to mention she’d just told them that she might have a target painted on her back for at least one of the monsters. They had proven smart enough to lay a trap with the destruction of the perch last year; what was to say they wouldn’t do it again, only more personalized for her this year?
‘Personal’ being far too likely to include Rory for the fox’s liking.
”If you’re going to be out in the dark, watch out for traps,” he growled reluctantly. ”Especially… especially if they know where Rory lives, and are trying to get at you through him.” The farmer was still the one thing that could get through his pride when the darkness raised shutters around his soul; for his mate, he’d deal with the Queen with a civil tongue. Or at least, something like one.
He glanced to Remi, not sure if the alchemist had seen the light behind him as he’d flown away with what was probably a concussion, but the bard gave a curt nod to them both. ”A luxere first, and then a spark bird, though only one at a time, and they both seemed to drain him fairly quickly.”
He scowled at the unwelcome reminder that he was losing himself, piece by piece. Each time he let the rage loose it was harder to fight it back, and he found a little more of his soul had been lost. He had held it at bay – or at least, hidden its worst effects – longer than most, but the closer Deepfrost crept, the stronger it grew. It was, however, enough to remind him of the other item he’d meant to raise. With Ronin, he’d thought back then, but now…
”We need a list of the blighted,” he admitted, though he had to force the words past his distaste. ”Remi can make a list of symptoms better than I at this point. Loren and I started making a list of afflicted, for what it’s worth. If you find a cure, you’ll want to know who to get it to as quickly as possible. Don’t want to miss anyone. Here.” He dug the paper out of his bag and pushed it to the middle of the table. The handwriting was atrocious, shaky and barely legible, but it held the names of six people:
Ronin
Jigano
Phoebe
Kiada
Melita
Caiside?
”It’s a start, at least.”
