IGS #4, Chapter 31

Scorio

“So is this what happens when you move up in the ranks?” asked Scorio, sitting back in the armchair and balancing his cup of liquor in his knee. “Endless rounds of talking and talking?”

Half of Druanna’s face was lit in warm tones of the leaping firelight, the other cast in shadow. Her gaze was pensive, her smirk subtle. “I consider myself fortunate in getting a moment of your time. Seeing as you’re in such demand and all.”

Scorio grimaced. “I remember hating this at the Fury Spires. All these Great Souls circling each other like wary predators, holding meetings, calling in pawns in the hopes of leveraging an advantage. Aezryna. Charoth. Bravurn. Moira. Not Plassus though.” Scorio raised his cup to his lips. “I think that’s what drew me to him. His impatience with the whole charade. There was something fierce, something real about his madness.”

“For one, I don’t think you qualify as a pawn any longer. And two, if you want to avoid these go-rounds, you should either avoid causing such a stir, or avoid these gathering places.”

“I know, I know. I’m just griping.” Scorio shifted his weight in the chair. “I just can’t imagine what it must be like to be a Charnel Duke, or a Crimson Earl. The Seamstress must live in meetings. Always talking, never doing.”

“Something tells me that’s not going to be your fate.” Druanna sipped from her own cup, and if the strength of the liquor affected her, she gave no sign. “It feels like just a few days ago we were camping in the Iron Weald. You’re moving fast.”

“Yeah.” Scorio gazed into the fire, memories flickering across the walls of his mind as if cast by the leaping flames.

“I’ve heard snatches from different people. But I’d like to hear it from you.”

For a moment Scorio thought she was going to ask about the True Fiend, or how he managed to kill Bravurn, or perhaps even how he came to befriend a blazeborn queen. But to his sad delight, Druanna skipped past all those trite matters. “What happened to Naomi?”

“Naomi.” Scorio inhaled, frowned, and saw in the gold and crimson flames her face gazing out at him, black hair tousled and falling before her cheeks, eyes narrowed, all intensity, all madness.

Druanna didn’t press him. Her room, like all the others in the Red Keep, was small, functional, plain. The fireplace was the only mark of ostentation and sole source of light. The darkness was velvety, and it felt as if they existed in a bubble of rich, dancing redness, the rest of Hell vanished into the night.

It hurt to cast his mind back to those memories. It took effort. Nobody had dared ask about Naomi and her fate, not so baldly, but Druanna, well. It felt right to share with her. She’d helped them destroy Praximar. She’d escorted them out into the Iron Weald. She’d not been a friend, exactly—being a Pyre Lady had elevated her beyond that possibility, at the time, but now?

Now she had the right to an answer.

In a low voice, Scorio told her. Of Naomi’s anger and growing suspicion. Of her paranoia and how often it was borne out. Her desire that they flee into deep Hell together, and be quit of all Great Souls and their affairs. How she raged at him for his willingness to trust and work with others. How they’d come close, their bond stronger than her fear, how he’d taken that irrevocable step that made them a couple even as he struggled with the rightness of it, and those final, terrible moments when she executed Valdun and then killed Alain when he intervened.

He’d drained his cup somewhere along the telling, and Druanna leaned forward to refill it.

“I should have pressed her harder,” he said at last. “When she spoke of the Nightmare Lady being separate from her. Speaking to her. Lying to her. I wanted to think of it as… I don’t know, metaphorical language. A way for her to distance herself emotionally from her own pain. But now.” He inhaled deeply, exhaustion cloaking him, a weariness that his Gold-tempered body could never fight. “Now I think it was cowardice on my part. That I didn’t want to face the reality of her being… different. In some fundamental way.”

“She was different,” agreed Druanna, voice soft. “Natural born.”

“Natural born,” agreed Scorio. “And then pumped full of so many pills and elixirs by her father that she managed to Ignite.”

“Her family. What do you know of them?”

“Not much. She never wanted to discuss them. Her father was a high ranking member of House Kraken. Ruined himself, she said, elevating her into the Academy. She never once mentioned wanting to visit him. I don’t even know if he’s still alive. Or about her mother. Anything, really.”

“She was private,” agreed Druanna. “And made it painfully clear she didn’t welcome those kinds of questions.”

“But I should have pressed her. Maybe…” The pain in his heart flexed. “Maybe if I had, if I’d forced her to talk about it, I could have helped her. Dealt with the problem.”

Druanna’s expression was nothing if not compassionate. “Perhaps. But perhaps not. You trusted your instincts. Perhaps you sensed the danger in pressing her. Perhaps you’d have lost her sooner. Or not. But there’s no sense in second guessing yourself now.”

“I know that. At least, the rational part of my mind does. But when I think back to Alain, to those last moments, her pain, her…” Scorio shuddered and drained his cup. “I know I should have done more.”

They sat in silence.

Finally Scorio roused himself from his thoughts. “What about you? Did you make it to the Kraken base?”

“I did.” Her smile was mirthless. “Perhaps a week after we went our own way. It was an… interesting welcome. My old friends were wary. In short, they tried to convince me to rejoin. I declined. Our warm reunion soured, and I realized that I wasn’t welcome. In retrospect I can’t say I’m too surprised. I think they’d hoped all along to turn me in to an asset for the House.” She smiled bitterly. “Having great power is like having enormous wealth. It’s hard to make friends that don’t seek to use you in some way to their advantage.”

“Yeah.” Scorio leaned forward to take up the bottle. The liquor was making him feel mellow and relaxed. “There’s no better incentive to figure out your own path than to be constantly recruited by folks who want to use you.”

“And your path’s taking you deeper into the Unfathom? That’s what Kelona shared while you were gone. This mysterious quest of yours.”

“No mystery to it.” Scorio sat back. “We found clues leading us to the Herdsmen’s ancient base. Or one of them. A mobile floating invisible cube that’s supposed to house all their miraculous machinery. But the Unfathom’s a mess. Even if we use our rose compass to find the Cube, there’s no telling what fractured plane it’ll be on. So we’re going to explore a second location Jova discovered in an old journal of hers. Also connected to the Herdsmen, it seems. What about you?”

“I was making my way—reluctantly I guess—to the Emerald Reach. A Pyre Lady like myself is always in demand, and Broic the Brawler has offered to help me reach Blood Baroness in exchange for my services.”

“Broic the Brawler. The Seamstress’ Kraken counterpart?”

“My ex-House elder, yes.” Druanna sipped. “I wasn’t overly excited by the prospect, but it was an easy option to default to.”

Scorio studied the woman. Powerful, athletic, she somehow still managed to appear dangerous even while relaxed in her armchair. Druanna. He recalled how awed the Manticore camp at the Abyss had been by her arrival. Recalled her fearless fury as she’d marched into Praximar’s hall to assault almost a hundred Great Souls for defending the Chancellor’s perfidy.

“You should come with us,” he said abruptly. “Into the Unfathom.”

She arched a dark brow and smiled. “I was wondering how long it’d take you to ask.”

“That means you’re up for it?”

“That means I’m not surprised. But I’m not convinced this isn’t a wild goose chase.”

So he told her. Of Lady Krula’s map, of Jova’s journal entry, of their surmises and plans.

“Not a wild goose chase,” Druanna allowed when he was done. “But perhaps even riskier than I’d imagined. You’re hoping to overcome whatever was able to defeat Jova Spike as a Crimson Earl?”

“Our odds of doing so would vastly improve with your help.” He smirked. “Having an indestructible six-armed eidolon of death would be nice.”

Druanna laughed. “And here I thought you wanted me for my sense of humor.”

Scorio feigned surprise. “You have a sense of humor?”

“I’m a regular comedian.” She said this with easy confidence, and seemed all the more dignified for it. “You have a guide?”

“Jova said she was working on it.”

“How fast can your group go?”

“If pressed, we can move. Me in in dragon form and Jova ferrying others on her plinth. But only for short spells. My dragon form consumes vast amounts of mana, and I’ve not yet mastered my vortices. Plus we might be taking on a couple of other Dread Blazes. Not sure yet. So it might be slower than I’d like.”

“I see. I can also move quickly when pressed. I just ride my eidolon as it charges toward the horizon.”

“There’s also our blazeborn companion, Xandera. She needs time with her feet on the ground if she’s not to grow weak. That’s a natural break on staying aloft for too long. So it’d work out.”

She studied him, one finger laid along the seam of her lips. “It’s an interesting proposition. And there’s no gainsaying how remarkable… I mean, how cataclysmic your results have been thus far.”

“Side bonus: I’d not attempt to recruit you to House Kraken like Broic.”

“There is that.”

Scorio smiled. “You knew I’d ask. And you still invited me to join you for a drink.”

“Did you know I’m terrible at card games? I can’t bluff to save my life.” Druanna canted her head to one side, amused. “You’re right. When you walked in the front door of the Keep this morning, I’d a sense there and then that our paths had crossed for a reason.”

Hope arose within Scorio. “So you’ll join us?”

“You already knew I would.” She raised her cup. “It’ll be good to work with someone whose powers aren’t completely overshadowed by my own.”

Scorio grinned and raised his cup in turn. “Jova’s no slouch, either.”

“I bet she’d love to hear you describe her as such. To learning more about the Herdsmen.”

“To exposing their secrets, ruining their plans, and revealing the truth about their presence in Hell.”

“Good toast.” She clinked her cup against his. “When do we leave?”

Scorio sipped and sat back, warmed not just by the liquor now but the knowledge that one of the singularly most potent Great Souls north of the Lustrous Maria was going to be helping him on their quest. “Tomorrow at dawn. I’m going to decline Lady Krula’s request, round up the troops, and begin our journey as quickly as possible.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be ready.”

“I’m glad you’re coming, Druanna.” He met her steady gaze. “And not just because of your six-armed death-dealing invulnerable eidolon of death-dealing death.”

She smirked. “That’s sweet of you. Let’s hope it’s up to handling whatever’s locked away in that tomb.”

“One way to find out.”

“One way to find out,” she agreed.

*

Scorio met with his crew back in their suite.

“Our team’s expanding rapidly,” said Jova from where she leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

Scorio couldn’t read her tone. “Given the dangers out there, Druanna’s a definite asset. She’s good people. I trust her. And she can more than hold her own in a fight.”

“I’ve heard her story,” said Kelona, who sat with her knees tucked under her chin. “To think she was held by Praximar for two years under Hydra’s palace.” She shook her head, marveling. “It’s incredible, your freeing her and then both of you attacking those feasting above.”

“Jova and Leonis were involved,” said Scorio, tone wry.

Leonis sat on the very edge of the bed, knees on elbows, expression morose. “That was my first real fight. I’m glad it was against Praximar. But compared to what Druanna, Jova, and Scorio did…” He trailed off.

“Nobody’s debating Druanna’s merit,” said Jova. “I’m not sure about Kuragin and this Myla.”

“The more the merrier?” Nyrix smirked. “And they’re Dread Blazes. Perhaps not as fearsome as you Pyre Lords, but if they swear the same Heart Oaths we did…?”

“That was my thinking,” agreed Scorio. “Kuragin’s strong, and while I don’t know yet what Myla can do, even if she’s on the weaker end of the spectrum, that’d still be of help.”

“Because of what awaits us in the Tomb,” said Jova.

“Because what’s awaiting us in the Tomb killed Crimson Earl you,” agreed Scorio. “You must have been incredible at that tier. If the same challenge awaits us now, we’ll need all the help we can get.”

Everyone nodded thoughtfully.

Except for Xandera, who clasped her hands under her chin and beamed. “I think it’s a good idea. The Heart Oaths will make sure they’re safe, and we’ll have more company on the road. Druanna sounds fascinating, and camping will be so much more interesting with more Great Souls there. Can we recruit anyone else?”

Kelona laughed. “You want to lead an army into this Tomb?”

“Aezryna is debating my offer,” said Scorio. “She’s truly formidable. Having her on our side would really improve our chances like nothing else.”

“It would effectively turn out mission into one overseen by the Seamstress,” said Jova. “Don’t forget her true loyalties.”

“I’m all about sharing the truth with the world,” said Scorio. “That doesn’t bother me.”

“I can’t guess at how powerful I’d become,” said Jova, tone cool. “But Druanna, Scorio, and myself already pack a punch.” She considered, head moving from side to side. “And, I suppose, if we think of it along these lines, having two other Dread Blazes would only help.”

Kelona exchanged a glance with Nyrix.

“I’ll help, too!” Xandera’s tone was earnest. “I don’t know what rank I’d be considered, Great Soul-wise, but I’m powerful.”

“We know,” smiled Scorio. “This is quite the team we’re assembling. If Kuragin and Myla are willing to swear the oaths, I think I’d feel better off bringing them.”

“Let’s speak with them soon, then,” said Jova. “You, Druanna, and myself. We’ll evaluate them and make a decision. If we’re to travel together, we have to all be of one mind on their inclusion.”

“Fair,” agreed Scorio. “Barring any problems, though, I think we’ll be heading out in strength. Any luck with the Silverine guide?”

Jova shrugged one shoulder. “I asked around, then spoke with a handful of them. One in particular stood out as more reliable than the others. He calls himself Braxofitz. I planned to ask Lady Krula if she knew anything about him when we next spoke to her.”

“Which might as well be now,” said Scorio. “Ready? No sense in leaving everything for tomorrow morning.”

Jova pushed off the wall. “Ready.”

“Good.” Scorio looked around at the others. “Get some rest. I want to set out at dawn.”

“What dawn?” asked Kelona. “It’s just perpetual twilight out here.”

“You know what I mean.” Scorio smiled. “Enjoy the nice mattresses and food. It’s sleeping rolls and hard tack for the foreseeable future.”

Kelona groaned and fell back onto her bed.

*

“I see,” said Lady Krula. “I can’t deny my disappointment. But Great Souls are nothing if not independent-minded.” She considered them both, one leg crossed over the other. “Your mind seems set, but allow me to tempt you. I know you hunt these Herdsmen. It’s entirely possible that fulfilling my mission will aid in yours.”

“Because you believe the Herdsmen took your sister?” asked Jova.

“Precisely. Recall that I agreed to tarry here in the Red Keep and enjoy my love affair because she’d fallen in with a secretive crowd whose research she admired and was intrigued by. I never managed to pry much about this group from her, which should have alerted me to the danger my sister was in, but given your revelations, it’s a safe assumption it was the Herdsmen. If we’re correct in our surmises, then the Silverine Suns and my sister’s disappearance are connected to your own goal.”

“Possibly,” allowed Scorio. “But there’s no guarantee we’ll discover the truth of the matter simply by approaching a Sun and asking its Abstractions for answers. No matter how highly you rank my diplomacy.”

“You never know.” Lady Krula’s smile was humorless. “But I can sweeten the deal. Elixirs, rare pills, high quality mana. Make it so that you ride into battle ready for any eventuality. And even if my own mission proves a failure, it’s only a mild detour from your true quarry. You recall, I’m sure, that the direct path to the Tomb takes you past a Silverine Sun. You would have to swing out quite widely to avoid it. Why not take the direct path, expedite your journey, and simply make what inquiries you can as you pass the Sun? If the matter proves unsatisfactory, you need only proceed directly to your goal.”

Scorio exchanged a look with Jova.

“All that I ask is that you escort Artur to the Silverine Sun, and then make a good faith effort to learn what you can,” said Lady Krula softly. “It’s in your path, and there’s a strong chance you’ll learn more about your enemy.”

Scorio considered. Her words made sense. The paths aligned. There wasn’t, actually, a good reason to decline.

Other than Dameon’s involvement.

Lady Krula stood. “I’ll give you a moment. Nobody likes being pressured into an agreement.” And with a wry nod of her head, she strode toward the back of the large room and passed beyond into her study.

“Well?” Scorio turned to Jova, voice low. “She makes a good argument.”

“On all counts, yes.” Jova’s face was puckered up in dissatisfaction. “But I can’t forget that Dameon’s involved.”

“I hear you there.” Scorio rose to his feet and paced. “But Lady Krula’s a Charnel Duchess. She’s using him as much as he’s trying to use her.”

“Oh yes, it’s all very reasonable.” Jova shrugged her shoulders as she hugged herself tightly. “But I’m inclined to refuse just because it’s annoying me this much. Annoying us both. Our instincts can’t be wrong.”

“Good point.” Scorio came to a stop and stared at a tapestry depicting the Fiery Shoals. A singular pink leafed tree stood on a rocky outcropping as lava flowed by on both sides to waterfall below. “Though we’d take as long going out wide as we would going toward the Sun.”

“It sounds like you’re arguing in favor.”

“We could make killing Dameon our precondition?”

“Ha.” Jova smirked. “Charming. We’re unlikely to be indulged.”

“Unlikely, yeah.” Scorio rubbed at his jaw. “I don’t know. There’s a chance we could learn more about the Herdsmen this way.”

Jova sighed. “Supposedly. And if their suspicions are correct? If we verify—somehow—that the Suns are not what the Silverines claim, and Lady Krula and Dameon put into effect this plan to collapse one?”

“Aezryna and the Seamstress won’t be pleased,” agreed Scorio. “But at that point we’re just guessing what the implications might be. If the Suns aren’t Silverine gods in the process of being born, if they’re something worse, something that aids our enemies… maybe they need to be destroyed.”

“There he is,” said Jova, smile acidly amused. “I was wondering where Scorio had gone to.”

“Ha.” He rubbed at his chin. “Or. We decline her offer, refuse to escort Artur, and take the direct path regardless. Whatever we learn, we can then decide what we wish to share. Everything will remain under our control.”

“Unless this Artur is necessary to our approaching the Sun in the first place.”

“That’s where our having a good guide would be key. Unless he lies and leads us into the heart of their territory to be devoured far away from help.”

Jova blew out her cheeks. “Another argument to go wide.”

“Agreed.” Scorio scowled. “What a mess.”

“Look. We can figure out the details. But on principle I think we should say no just because Dameon’s involved. We can’t guess at his plans, but I bet helping Krula helps him in ways we’d bitterly regret down the road.”

“Right.” Scorio stared out at nothing, then nodded. “Right. Can’t argue with that. But.” He blinked, glanced at the distant arch through which Lady Krula had stepped, then moved closer to Jova. “I’ve already vowed to myself I’m going to see Dameon dead before I quit the Unfathom. I don’t care what he says, whom he pleases, how useful he claims to be. I’ll have my revenge.”

Jova held his gaze for a long, aching moment, and then nodded slowly. “We’re of one mind, then.”

The Twilight Lady returned shortly thereafter, and smiled as she took her seat. “Have you found merit in my offer?”

“Unfortunately, no,” said Jova. “We appreciate the logic and offer of assistance, but we can’t work with anyone who’s taking Dameon’s advice.”

“I see.” Lady Krula studied them both. “Your hatred for him runs that deep. How unfortunate. I’d hoped you more pragmatic.”

“We’ve learned this particular lesson the hard way,” said Scorio. “My apologies. We have nothing but respect for you, Lady Krula. But Dameon’s our sworn enemy. He only breathes even now because of your laws of hospitality.”

The Twilight Lady inclined her head. “Well then. Would you be averse to escorting Artur and a handful of other Great Souls as close to the Sun as you’re willing to go?”

“No,” said Jova. “We can’t risk aiding Dameon in any capacity.”

Lady Krula raised a brow. “My, my. How forthright of you. Very well. Then I believe this audience is at an end. Good day, Jova. Scorio.”

Her tone had grown decidedly chilly, as well it might. Scorio, heart hammering, bowed low to indicate his respect, then followed Jova out of the chambers.

“That went well,” he whispered to her as they entered the stair well.

“As in, we were allowed to leave alive?” Jova smirked. “True.”

Scorio glanced back, half expecting to see Lady Krula towering over them at the top of the stairs, hand outstretched to stop time.

“We’ll be gone from here soon enough,” said Jova quietly. “The sooner the better. But we’ll leave free of Dameon’s machinations, and that’s worth upsetting any number of powerful people.”

“Right,” said Scorio softly. Still, the cold, flat stare Lady Krula had leveled at him as he’d left had him deeply unsettled. “Right.”