The Path of Destruction (Rune Breaker) by Porter Landon

Author:Porter, Landon [Porter, Landon]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Paradox-Omni Entertainment
Published: 2013-05-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9 – Brin's Truth

'A smith on one of the outlying islands was afflicted by a divinity spark five days ago. Unfortunately, the spark drove him mad, resulting in the deaths of twelve citizens of the Empire and over thirty ang'hailene before the local garrison could end his threat. Fortunately, he was slain using ash chalk instead of immolation, thus preserving his body for our inquiry. We finally have something more than theory to work from.'

~ excerpt from the journal of Lena Hiddakko.

***

The sanctum of Lord Crossius had originally been constructed as a laboratory for his predecessor whose experiments with fey creatures were still well-regarded across the archipelago. Due to the nature of that lord's favored subjects, the room was constructed in its own tower overlooking the sea, surrounded in a cage of cold iron. Layer upon layer of spellcraft had been placed in the walls, ceiling and floor to prevent teleportation into or out of the chamber as well as blocking incoming scrying. Mirrors of polished silver were placed on each of the pillars ringing the room to foul fey illusions, and not long ago, the floor had been painted with a pattern that scattered ambient akua, the favored magic of such beings.

Upon his return,Lord Crossius ordered a new floor installed: black marble shot through with white veins. Though no one but himself, Lady Milfune and his ward, Layaka were allowed into the sanctum, it wasn't a secret that he'd laid a spellwork of his own into the stone tiles of the new floor. What purpose it served, however, none could tell.

The only furniture in the sanctum were a granite throne banded in steel, its high back sweeping up more than eight feet and decorated with rough-cut gems dangling from silver basket settings; and a round of white chalk smuggled from all the way across the ocean in Illium. It was easily eight feet across and two feet thick. Lord Crossius had placed it in front of his throne and kept it covered at all times with an orange silk cloth with green embellishments and golden tassels.

This evening, he'd brought something extra in: a shallow bowl carved from a single crystal, two feet across and three precision-made tuning forks. The bowl sat atop the cloth-covered chalk slab with a tuning fork on either side. The third was in his hand as he sat his throne, fingers laced around it in contemplation.

Lady Milfune stood beside him, one hand gently massaging his shoulder. Layaka sat on the floor at his right hand, sharpening an endless supply of flechettes with a whetstone. All three were watching the air above the bowl.

The tuning forks on either side of it were trembling in sympathy with a mystic sensor thousands miles away, linked to it by currents of vox. They were in turn picked up by the bowl, which converted vox into vin that was then used to lens the ambient light of the chamber into images—images that matched what the distant sensor spell was seeing.

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