He released a breath. “I cannot.”
I tried to tame the expression that flashed across my face.
“You don’t know how?” That would certainly make the teaching harder.
“It is not a question of knowledge, but rather of higher alchemy and of will,” he said, his tone making it clear that the subject was closed. “Regardless, I will not teach you.”
“Why not?” I asked. “We need it done, and I’m a quick study.”
“Out of the question.”
“But why?”
“Because you are notRhi’Ahr,” he said. “The chimeric has never been wielded like this by a homani, and it may kill you. It may have already begun.”
His eyes flicked down to my arms.
I met his gaze, challenged it.
“If I don’t have long to live, then I’d like to truly live,” I said. “Besides, I’m a bluemage, Navy trained. Maybe Icanturn the tide of this war, but I won’t know unless I’m given the chance. Sir.”
I almost smiled. He almost returned it.
“The doctor says the runescars are travelling.”
“They are,” I said. I removed my gloves and pushed up my sleeves. “Well beyond my elbows, now.”
“Hm.” He pushed to his feet and turned to the chest behind his desk. When he opened the lid, I hissed. “Does this hurt you?”
“Not much,” I said. “Not anymore. It tingles. Burns. Like tats and needles.”
“Come closer,” he said.
My heart thudded at the invitation, and I moved around the desk. I felt his nearness like a burning of my skin, breathed deep the scent of brandy and linseed oil, old books and the sea.
He stepped aside.
“Tell me what you see.”
I peered into the chest, and the sight took my breath away.
Chimeric. I’d never actually seen it before. I’d never known what it looked like, virgin and raw. Orange like cinnamon, it was a forest of lights, a stormy sky, a furious ocean, alive. Like waves of powder or molten sand, it crackled, shifting and lifting the way ash would on a breeze. Moving, sliding, rising, falling. It glowed warmly, and I leaned closer, breathing it in.
“Can you hear it?” he asked.
“It’s weeping,” I said.
“The Tears of the Moons,” he purred. “Call them.”
I raised my hand over the chest. The chimeric responded, rising like serpents toward the rune on my palm. Slow and graceful, it reached powdery tendrils, and when they touched my skin, I saw stars.
“TheTouchstoneis drawn to it,” said Thanavar. His voice was muffled, as if far, far away, but his body was warm behind mine. “She remembers when it used to course through her veins.”
He laid his hand over mine, and I shuddered at the touch as the chimeric snaked between our fingers and curled across our palms. My runescars sang across my skin, gleaming and fading like embers in a fire, and I knew his magik quickened them deeper, brighter. I longed to lean back into him, to let him support me as I surrendered to the chimeric, and it was all Icould do to stay on my feet as waves of heat and power and memory washed over me.
“Call her,” he said.
Touchstone,I said in my head.
