An image of my friends flashed through my thoughts. What a bunch we were. An unfettered shadow mage, a Dwarven warlock, a royal fae brothel mistress, and, of course, Irsha, a kindhearted assassin who could deal with impossible tasks but lost all courage when telling women how he felt.
Gods, it sounds like the first line of a vulgar tavern joke. I snorted at the thought.
Ciesko did not look impressed. ‘Just think about it, Sana. It won’t be an easy journey. You’ve started late and have much to learn, but your talent is limitless. Don’t throw it away for the Brotherhood… or the king.’
I bit my lip, wondering how he knew about my feelings for Rey.Mages gossip more than fishwives on market day, itseems.‘I’ll consider it, but this is my life to live,’ I said, instead of letting the old mage live his dream vicariously through me.
‘Of course, of course, dear child,’ he said, as if I hadn’t voiced my feelings.
We were still admiring the effect of my spell when an insistent knock rattled the door, and two mages entered without waiting for permission, carrying a crate with such expressions of distaste I thought they were going to throw it at us and run.
‘My lord, you requested this,’ he said. I gestured to the table, the wards a gleaming invitation. ‘The artificers say it’s safe now, but it’s worse than holding a drekavac[2] in your bare hands,’ he said. ‘It’s just… wrong.’
The mage dropped the crate onto the table before he finished his sentence. It landed with such force that the corner fractured. Mist and ice poured out, turning the table into a sodden, dripping mess.
Ciesko nodded, dismissing them with a wave of his hand. I crouched to inspect the damage. There was no point in worrying about the crate; I was more interested in the artefact, anyway, wondering if it had survived its journey.
‘Shit!’ I hissed in pain at the touch of the freezing mist. I wrapped the end of my kirtle around my hands and tried again. I hadn’t noticed this sensation when we’d inspected the box in the village. Now it felt… alive, scarily alive, and dangerous.
‘Those nullifying spells made it too damn cold to touch. Where’s Tova when you need him? Or a crowbar, for that matter.’ I looked behind me, noticing a large bone chisel on the shelf with the other medical equipment, and wondered if that would work. Before Ciesko could stop me, I reached for it and rammed it into the damaged corner.
‘Roksana, nullifying spells aren’t cold. Be careful.’ The warning in Ciesko’s voice gave me pause. ‘Gods, what is this pull?’ He gasped, clasping a hand to his chest.
I watched in horror as the spells wrapping the crate began unravelling.
‘Ciesko, call for help! My ward… it won’t be strong enough.’ I dismantled the crate, revealing the cube. Silver metal gleamed, reflecting my face. The image was distorted by the three sets of runes encircling the middle. The cube floated upwards, stopping about a foot off the table. Then the runic designs began shifting, slowly at first, but gradually increasing in speed. It was strangely fascinating to watch them move across the cube’s surface. A river of symbols and numbers, and they were fucking glowing.
‘I can feel my ward failing. How do I fix this?’ I stuttered, a sense of foreboding making my spine shiver. It was a mistake to bring it here. My every instinct screamed to run away, but I couldn’t stop looking at the gold and blue lights sliding over the cube’s surface.
‘Help’s coming. Tell me, what do you feel?’ Ciesko said from behind me.
I focused on the sensation. ‘I don’t know… hunger? A crushing weight of… a presence?’ I reached out, trying to touch the glowing runes, but Ciesko grabbed my wrist.
‘No, keep your hand just outside your ward. Concentrate on how they interact,’ he said, and I followed his instructions. However, all I could feel was a chill that seeped into my bones. Even with my second sight, I couldn’t detect anything.
‘It’s cold. I’d almost believe it contains the heart of winter, but… there’s something… pulling at me – no, my soul,’ I said, wondering what I was missing. ‘What do you sense? Is it something obvious?’
‘I only feel it stealing my magic, but nothing else. For me, it’s as if the artefact doesn’t exist. I see it there, my eyes aren’t lying, but to my senses? There’s a void where it should be,’ he answered, and I leaned closer, eyeing the box.
‘There were no mages in the escort… why is it cold for me but not those carrying it earlier?’ I muttered.
‘You’re a vivamancer child. Your abilities are unique, your connection to the aether more primal. Perhaps that’s why.’
His words stirred my curiosity, so I leaned closer, my nose brushing against the now swirling aether of the ward, searching for a clue.
There’s… a void?
‘It was dormant in the village,’ I said, fighting a sudden wave of nausea. The pull grew stronger with each passing moment, as did the lights on the cube. The door creaked behind me. ‘Do you think the containment spell is strong enough to try opening it? Maybe that will break the spell.’
‘Roksana Regnav, don’t you dare to touch that thing.’ The authority in Tova’s voice halted my hand. I turned slowly to look at the dwarf, who was rushing towards us with two Master Artificers in tow.
‘Didn’t you want this thing open?’ I asked not for the sake of argument, but because I was at my wits’ end for what to do next.
‘When it’s inactive, yes. There’s too much magic here. The srebrec eats away at wards, and at the slightest fluctuation attracts any inert aether stored within a mage. Look at it!’ he said, pointing to the centre of the box.
I cursed silently, realising that while I’d focused on the strange sensation, my genius friend had noticed that the box was opening, and I had no clue what to do. ‘How do we stop it?’ I looked at him for advice, but he just stared at the box.
Suddenly, Tova cursed and grabbed the hem of my kirtle. He yanked me back so hard that I fell on my rear.
