Ronan frowns, but backs up a step. The silence is all the agreement Karis is going to get.
What’s his problem? I’m obviously fine now. You’d think the healing potions were snake oil.
Vara sighs sympathetically.Humans are almost as complicated as gods, and nearly as irrational too.
“I’ll scry for the base first,” Karis says out loud, doubling as instruction to Vara. He closes his eyes and rests his palms on his knees. Finds a comfortable balance, with his head bowed and as little pressure on his side as he can manage.O Most Glorious, Generous, and Useful—
Don’t bother if you’re just going to be sarcastic,Vara interrupts, and sweeps Karis’s consciousness up and away to the Ostaris manor.
Karis expects familiar layers of wards and alarms. Unlike the first time he tried scrying from inside the Locksmiths’ manor base, he can now identify each magic by the person who cast it, admiring the way their different magics all work together. Even Evain’s demonic energy manages to complement the divine enchantments, rather than clashing with them.
But today, the web of spells is gone. Karis nearly startles out of his own spell, and only Vara’s guidance keeps him in the vision.
The base is empty. No people, no cat.
“The basement,” he urges, and the view drops through the floor. All the basement holds is an empty table.
It’s significant I can show you this,Vara says carefully.That’s all I can say.
Karis understands. Vara can’t speak anything about the binding or its components, and he wasn’t able to scry out the Dravansword. Being able to see the basement means the other relics are completely gone.
Jolting out of the vision, he opens his eyes—then jerks backwards. Ronan is crouching too close. A strong hand steadies his shoulder. “What about the basement?”
Karis touches Ronan’s hand. The skin contact steadies his nerves a little. Just a little. “It’s empty. The whole house is empty. There’s nobody there. The relics are gone. The wards are gone.” He takes a nervous, shaking breath. “I’ll look for people next. Who should…”
“Dansa first.” Ronan is cold and focused now, and he doesn’t urge Karis to be careful.
Karis’s lips tighten. “Hold my hand?”
His magic is more than enough on its own, but he could use some emotional support. Ronan sits cross-legged in front of him and covers Karis’s hands on his knees. The touch is grounding.
Karis closes his eyes again, but nothing happens. His hands tense under Ronan’s, and he asks for Coira. Melanne. Evain. Leth. Power breaks over his soul like waves, more painful with each attempt. He’s too weak for this. If only he was stronger, if only he had the Crown of Vara with him—with that much Radiance, he could do anything.
But right now, all he has is failure, and an alarming floating feeling behind his eyes. Regardless, he demands,Try Dansa again.
Absolutely not,Vara says.You’re too exhausted. It won’t work.
Karis’s stomach swoops, nausea roiling through him. The cold floating sensation in his head worsens. Vara’s right. He’s too weak to maintain the magic much longer. “Again,” he grits out, fingernails digging into his knees. “I’m not done.”
But Vara yanks from his mind with a jarring snap. Eyes flying open, Karis returns to the present to find Ronan’s hand on his cheek, their faces very close.
“Did you find her?” Ronan asks.
Karis takes a few ragged breaths. Unclenches his hands, rubs them together. Breathes until the nausea subsides, and he’s pretty sure he’s not about to keel over. “I couldn’t find any of them. Which could mean they’re all in a room with the relics, or…” His lips tighten. “They’re probably with the relics.”
Ronan frowns, letting go of Karis’s face. “Did you scry for each of them?”
“Of course. I couldn’t find Dansa, so I tried the others.” Karis uncrosses his legs, then pauses before standing up. He really doesn’t want to keel over and make Ronan worry, when everything else is so much more important. “Maybe I should look for Alice? Later, though, I’m a little—”
“Sparks and fucking ashes,” Ronan swears vehemently. He stands up. “What were youthinking?”
Karis scrambles to his feet too, even though the sudden movement makes his vision swim dark. He grimly keeps his balance and snaps, “I was thinking about finding your friends.”
Ronan runs his hand through his hair, and for a moment, there’s a crack in his cold, focused veneer. A glimpse of frantic, dangerous energy beneath. It’s soon plastered over again. “Thank you,” Ronan says, with mask-like calm. “But you need to be more careful. You can’t take risks like that.”
Karis’s side aches. His answer is quieter too. “Some things are worth taking risks for. But fine. Yeah, I’ll be careful. What’s the plan now?”
“Same as before. Coira will meet us in Riverwatch if she can. If she can’t, we’ll go from there.” Ronan looks Karis up and down. “Are you good to go?”
