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“—it’s that they clearly excel at working in secrecy.”

“Last I heard from Tenny is that Castle Lumin has been re-warded—sealed once more,” Jocelyn offered. “So there’s no way for us to know what goes on within its walls. Operating without the official sanctions of either Nyrundelle or Havensreach as we are, there are simply not enough of us to run patrols, to provide proper reports.”

“So, Malakar has either fled somewhere new, or he remains inside the castle, still working on whatever he needed his precious forges for, still forcing his followers to keep digging for fuck knows what.” Elyria folded her arms over her chest. “Knowing our luck, I can guess what’s more likely.”

There was a moment of heavy silence. Everyone present stared at Elyria.

And then they exploded into a flurry of questions all at once.

“Forges?”

“What do you mean?”

“Digging?”

“Do you know his plan?”

Elyria leaned back, blinking rapidly. The storm of conflicting emotions barreling down the bond—surprise and anger and apprehension—had Cedric moving his hand to the small of her back in a show of support.

“I—I don’t know much,” she said. “He was so fixated on getting his power back from me. I didn’t think much about why he was so determined, at least not in the beginning. But eventually, you know, you kind of get used to the torture, so . . .” She huffed a dark laugh, and Cedric’s blood boiled. “I started piecing a few things together—things he would say, things other people”—she swallowed, drawing her crossed arms tighter against her body—“let slip. I never officially heard exactly what it is he hopes to achieve in the end, but I think it’s fair to assume it has to do with crushing us disgusting, power-greedy Arcanians and lifting himself up. I mean, some things never change, right?”

The way Larkess pursed her lips and exhaled sharply from her nose made it seem like she agreed with that sentiment.

“He was clear enough about wanting his power back from me,” Elyria continued, “because he needed to be at full strength in order to accomplish whatever it is he does want. In order to pierce a line of some sort.”

This time it was Shep’s sharp breath cutting through the silence. “A line? Or the Line?”

Elyria briefly lifted a hand to the back of her head, then looked at her fingers as though she expected to still see blood staining them. “I’m . . . not sure. It was all a bit muddy there at the end.”

“The,” said Cedric, his voice low, dark. “‘The Line will be pierced. The world rewritten.’ That’s what he said.”

“Impossible,” breathed Larkess. “Well, not impossible, clearly, but . . . Where would he mean to . . . ? And how would he . . . ?” The elder’s eyes were cast down, her voice trailing off every time she spoke. It was obvious she was not talking to anybody but herself.

Elyria had a far-off look in her eyes, like she, too, was puzzling out the meaning of the words. Something sparked down their bond—a glimmer of understanding, a key being slotted into a lock. It was quickly followed by contrition and a flurry of self-flagellating thoughts. She was berating herself for not having realized something sooner.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she said, the words bouncing around the inside of Cedric’s skull.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked her, mind-to-mind. But she was lost in her own thoughts, and when she didn’t answer, he asked aloud, too. “What is the Line? What does this mean?”

“The Line of Origin,” Shep whispered.

Jocelyn’s mouth popped open. “Just a myth . . . isn’t it?”

Elder Larkess shook her head. “Not a myth. Not a legend. The very real source of all mana—all magic.”

“I’m so stupid,” Elyria said simply, barking out a laugh. “I’m a stars-damned motherfucking idiot.”

“Hey, now,” Cedric responded reflexively.

Elyria waved off his protestation. “I don’t know why I didn’t piece it together before. He wants access to the source. He intends to corrupt the mana that flows throughout all Arcanis.”

“Corrupt it, or claim it,” said Larkess wearily.

“Who says the mad bastard intends on picking one or the other?” added Thraigg.

“Where is the Line? How would he reach it?” Cedric asked. “Is that even possible?”

“Once, I might have said no,” Larkess replied. “But you yourself have seen him do things with his power beyond what I would have thought conceivable. Beyond even the wildest ambition. He can twist blood and bone into monstrosities that obey his will. He has cheated death at least once. We would be fools to underestimate him.”