Chương 46: 45. Thinking in Three Dimensions

Tavian waited for Valliroth to make his move. If the man was unwell enough that he was willing to fight Tavian and his men, then Tavian would back down. Valliroth glared at him. He was still smarting from the loss of his mother and his home. It was the kind of pain that made men do irrational things.

"Valliroth," Tavian said.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me, or even to understand. Please—" Valliroth didn't move. His sword quivered, shining in the torchlight.

"I'm sorry for what I did to you," Tavian said.

"But I couldn't lose another friend. Not like that." Valliroth's eyes flicked off to the side. Tavian followed them, and spotted Anella standing in the shadows, her eyes red, hair disheveled. Valliroth slammed his sword back into the scabbard. His shoulders relaxed.

"What is wrong with us?" Valliroth gasped.

"We have grown so divided." As Valliroth made the choice to have peace, the mist of miasma that Tavian saw on Valliroth's mind… dissipated. It melted away into the shadows, like it had never been there. Tavian wondered if his blow had been responsible for the miasma that had entered his friend. Then he marveled that the man was strong enough to reject it. Valliroth gritted his teeth, then swallowed. Tavian recognized the action. His friend was putting aside personal grievance in favor of his duty to his people.

"I can't forgive you for what you've done," Valliroth said.

"But… Thank you for saving my sister's life. She did not deserve to die with us."

"No," Tavian agreed. Never interrupt a man when he is convincing himself.

"My people are hungry, Tavian," Valliroth said.

"It's my duty, as the head of House Tiren, to care for the physical needs of Ishtoran's priests." Tavian nodded, slowly, watching the gears turning in Valliroth's mind.

"You feel the same way," Valliroth said.

"I do."

"Then so long as we share a goal, perhaps we can work together. I would buy food from you with this gold."

"I have a better offer for you," Tavian said.

"Swear fealty. Join the kingdom." Anella moved over to her brother, taking his arm and pulling him down so she could whisper in his ear. Valliroth straightened, and looked Tavian in the eye.

"I have here three chests, filled with gold. It is not much, for all these." He gestured to his priests. Most of them were watching, now.

"Will you accept them as our payment of your tax? Will you accept our oaths of fealty?"

"I will," Tavian said.

"House Tiren's allegiance is worth the price." Tavian's men grabbed the three chests. Tavian accepted the fealty of the priests. ⬣ New Subjects ⬣ ⬣ Kingdom Population: 243 ⬣ They marched out of the stables, carrying their goods. This gold could keep the core supplied with Essence for several weeks.

"Vanal," Tavian said, waking the sleeping mage.

"We got the gold." Vanal sprang to his feet, running his hands through his hair in excitement.

"You've saved us!" he declared.

"Huzzah!"

"Could this get us up to five Influence?" Tavian asked, as the chests were placed on the ground.

"Along with the other goods?" Vanal wrinkled his brow.

"Unlikely," he said, peering at the gold with his Appraising Eye.

"It's difficult to reach that high a level on so many tiles. I'll let you know what I figure out, but I'd guess 2. 5 if we were to use it all."

"Sorry to wake you, Vanal," Tavian said.

"We'll leave you to it." Vanal examined Tavian.

"Was there any resistance?" he asked.

"No," Tavian said, with a smile.

"No, there wasn't. Valliroth is recovering from his injury, and he has decided that he wants to join our kingdom." Vanal looked shocked.

"He was so antagonistic, before," Vanal said.

"I struggle to believe that there was no shedding of blood."

"Valliroth is pure of heart," Tavian said, placing a hand on his own miasmic wound.

"He will do what is best for his House." As they opened the chests, Tavian heard shouts from one of the gates. A short time later, Goren rode into the outer courtyard, leading another horse behind him. He was breathing heavily, quickly, gasping for air.

"Woah, woah there," Tavian said, catching the horses reins and steading the boy. Goren's face was streaked with tears. Tavian helped him down from the horse, helping him breathe more easily.

"Yanin is dead," Goren said, his face white as a sheet.

"They pulled him down. I think they were eating him." His voice was flat, matter of fact, but the boy was shaking as he spoke. He'd sent these boys out to their death. He'd known some of them would die. And yet he'd dared to hope they would all live. There was blood in Goren's hair. He didn't ask about it. He remembered the look of the boy on the night of the coup, standing over the dead Anarvian, bloody knife in hand.

"You're back now," Tavian said.

"You've done a brave thing today. An important thing, Goren."

"He was my friend," Goren said, still staring off into space. Tavian did not envy the boy's dreams. If he did not find the meaning in all this, he may never recover.

"Yanin made an incredible sacrifice," Tavian said.

"He was very brave, and deserves to be remembered and honored by us. And you, Goren, you have managed to return, alone, despite what befell you." Goren nodded, grimly.

"Where did you get to, Goren? Give me your report, soldier. Did you reach Brask?" Changing the topic seemed to help Goren refocus.

"They abandoned their home near the port," Goren said.

"A servant there told me, that they set sail with all their ships, heading to the west."

"The west?" Tavian asked.

"But their island hideout is to the east. Are you sure about that?" Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Goren nodded. Blood was spattered across his right sleeve.

"The west," he said.

"She told me that Lord Brask was afraid of his ships being destroyed."

"Why?" Tavian asked.

"Spit it out, boy."

"She said that there was a force of Karath Amon on the high seas. A dozen troop ships. She thought they were landing on the moors to the east."

"Karath Amon?" Tavian said.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Goren said.

"Karath Amon." Tavian escorted Goren back to his grandmother's room. A warm fire burned in the hearth, and the old woman was sitting up, anxiously watching the door. She gave a cry of joy, and embraced the young man.

"Goren, thank Ishtoran. I have some warm soup here for you." She gave Tavian a look of relief and appreciation. Tavian left quietly, to let them enjoy their time together. His mind was on the Karath Amon, anyway. If they were off the east coast of Corinath, they could sail into the harbor tomorrow. But… sailing troopships into a contested harbor was dangerous. Tavian had no way to contest their arrival, but if Brask was still out there, the reasonable thing to do was play it safe, and march overland to the city.

That gave them about three days before the soldiers arrived. Three days.

"Lea," Tavian said, summoning the core's administrator. She appeared, looking distressed.

"I heard," she said.

"What's your recommendation?" he asked.

"Things are looking dire," she said.

"If… if there is no way to hold against an enemy force here, it would be wise to deactivate the core and search for a more defensible position. Somewhere without such strong miasma."

"Run and hide," Tavian said.

"Buy time, while my people die." Lea looked hurt. He should have known that would be her recommendation.

"I'm sorry," he said. He didn't want to aggravate Lea. He needed her.

"I shouldn't have said that. You realize that means letting Calli try to deactivate the core?" Lea hadn't exactly been subtle about what she thought of Calli's skill—or lack there of—as a coresmith.

"It would be better than being destroyed."

"Your advice is noted." Tavian found Calli. He needed to see things through her perspective. She sat in the coresmith workshop, alone, tinkering with core modules at a work bench. The tomes that Tavian had extracted from the dungeon lay open nearby, along with the red covered translation codex. He wondered what she'd found in her studies. Calli smiled when she saw him, and she jumped to her feet.

"Here for another treatment?" she asked. Tavian nodded.

"Don't remove it all, though," he said.

"I… I'm holding onto hope that Cormath is still there." Calli began preparing, and Tavian's attention was drawn to the five black daggers that they'd recovered from the ghouls in the dungeon. They were bundled in a sack, carelessly tossed into a corner.

"I'm thinking about launching a raid into the city," Tavian said.

"There's a warehouse down by the docks, a few of them, actually. Anarvia seems to be carting all the goods up to his compound. If we can seize those, we could have more Influence; we could stop the miasmic turbulence from draining our Essence. Or, we could burn them, and deny Anarvia access." He recalled the smell of smoke and flame as he lit the library at the temple aflame. All that knowledge, accumulated over generations, destroyed. If it meant that they emerged victorious over Anarvia, it was worth it.

Every time he touched one of those black daggers, something in the dungeons beneath connected with his mind. But they could be the key to a successful fight on Anarvian claimed tiles.

"That sounds dangerous," Calli said.

"It is," Tavian said.

"But we're cornered. I don't know what else there is for us to do."

"I really thought that the Conqueror's Core would solve all our problems," Calli said, bringing the miasma compressor over. The black knot of darkness trapped inside pulsed in time with the pounding in Tavian's side.

"It seems like it's just caused more."

"If it wasn't for the blasted miasmic dungeon under the fortress, it would have," Tavian said.

"I thought we'd get off the never ending grindstone of constantly needed Essence to feed to the Core, but here we are again. And it seems as though miasma is more capable of affecting people's judgement than I realized."

"Are you okay?" Calli asked, suddenly concerned.

"Not me," Tavian said.

"Valliroth. I saw him… reject the miasma. His demeanor changed. I wonder how much it was affecting people in Tar Corninath before. We have to find a way to do something about the miasma or this place will become unlivable."

"That's the thing that's strange to me," Calli said.

"The sepulcher of Kusa is a powerful core. I mean, it's more of a conduit. Every year Halin and the other master coresmiths got special permissions from the priests to perform special work in the temple. It's supposed to deter this kind of thing, by channeling all the mana from the well into the world hexgrid." She tapped on the books she'd been reading.

"These are all about that. I don't know how so much miasma could have accumulated here. It's more common in places where lots of death has happened in a short period." Calli pressed the condenser into his side, and Tavian braced himself for another vision. It didn't come. Calli's words landed in his mind, condensing like spheres of Essence.

"Calli!" Tavian exclaimed.

"Could the sepulcher be the problem?"

"What do you mean?" Calli asked.

"Are you saying that someone sabotaged it?"

"I don't know," Tavian said.

"But it's misplaced. It's not in the pentagon."

"What do you mean?"

"The pentagonal sepulcher isn't in the hexgrid pentagon. It's in the wrong spot!" Calli laughed.

"Tavian, that's impossible. How could that happen? Halin and the other coresmiths have been tending to the sepulcher for generations. If the sepulcher of Kusa was misaligned, it would cause problems. Problems that they'd have noticed, and dealt with."

"Problems like an unusual accumulation of miasma under the palace?" Calli froze.

"Unless… Unless it wasn't an accident. Unless they knew all along," Calli said.

"If the mana well was leaking into the miasmic dungeon, that would explain everything."

"Lady Tiren didn't know."

"They would have hidden it from her," Calli said, her eyes growing wide.

"I always thought it was strange, how odd they acted about it. They must have been hiding it. They could have been putting in place mitigation measures, or… or were they promoting the miasma production?"

"Could the sepulcher have been in the wrong place all along?" Tavian asked.

"It's in the center of the temple. The whole building couldn't have been moved." Calli pulled the miasmic condenser from Tavian's side, and placed it carefully on the work bench. She started pacing aggressively, gesticulating wildly as she spoke.

"Tavian! The temple was built around the sepulcher. It's only a hundred years old, remember! Tavirost had it constructed after…" she moved into his face, gesturing for him to finish the sentence.

"After he'd conquered Tar Corinath?"

"Well, yes, but he didn't destroy the old temple. The original was knocked down—""The great earthquake," Tavian said.

"It was knocked down in the great earthquake."

"The sepulcher must have moved during that earthquake," Calli said.

"It shifted, and the mana well started leaking."

"What a stupid design," Tavian muttered to himself.

"If earthquakes could move the anchor points out of alignment on the world grid, they should all be misaligned by now." Scenes from his vision flashed back in his mind. Eleven pentagonal mana wells, glowing bright and strong. Only one had been weak. It had been caused by… Caused by the arrival of Void on the planet.

"The mana well should have provided enough power to keep the anchor from moving," Calli said.

"Maybe there was something wrong with it?"

"No," Tavian said.

"Something else. I think something came to this planet a hundred years ago, with a jolt that rocked Andal to its bones. Something strong enough to shake an anchor lose from a mana well."

"What could do that?" Calli asked.

"Void," Tavian said. A chill fell over the room as he said the word.

"What is Void?" Calli asked.

"I don't know," Tavian said.

"Lea showed it to me. It's bad." Calli stopped her pacing.

"It sounds frightening," she said.

"But there's no Void here, right?"

"I don't think so," Tavian said.

"Then it's a tomorrow problem," Calli said.

"The today problem is Anarvia."

"And miasma," Tavian added, his mind churning.

"And miasma," Calli agreed.

"Tacticians always think in two dimensions," Tavian said, examining the miasmic wound in his side. Calli had drained most of it away, leaving only a sickly black stain around the now bleeding gash.

"Maybe the solution is to go down. Calli, can we patch the leak in the mana well somehow?"

"Patch it? Tavian… I'm barely an apprentice."

"Calli," Tavian said, long-sufferingly.

"I've already seen you repair and install two Core modules. Not to mention your work on that." He pointed at the miasmic condenser. Calli couldn't help but straighten when he praised her.

"Tavian," she said.

"Stop flattering me." Tavian smiled.

"I just think you're capable of anything you set your mind to, that's all."

"I like it better when your expectations are low," Calli protested.

"It's easier to impress, that way." Tavian rolled his eyes at her.

"Tay," she said, then got back on topic.

"If it was possible to patch a leak in the mana well, don't you think that if the coresmiths could have done that they would have?"

"Not if they were interested in miasma," Tavian said.

"You know how things are supposed to work; the sepulcher is supposed to channel mana into the world hexgrid, right? Right now, some of that energy is being siphoned off by the dungeon, creating ghouls, and choking our core. If we could somehow stop that, Anarvia loses his army, and our core stabilizes. If we can do something about that, maybe we can do something about the army coming our way."

"Army?"

"Karath Amon," Tavian said.

"I just got the report. We have three days, at most." Calli looked at the miasma compressor resting on the workbench. She let out a long shaky breath. leaning heavily on her hands.

"Father was right to be afraid of them, then," she said.

"Are they coming for the core?"

"Or they're in league with Lord Anarvia," Tavian said.

"Nothing good."

"I see," she said.

"I do have one idea. I have no idea how to patch the leak in the well, but… I've been working on an idea to mitigate the miasma. Didn't Jarden say that there was a miasmic infuser in the dungeon?" Tavian rose and pulled his tunic down.

"Calli," he said, with grim determination.

"Let's say we go down into the dungeon. How are we going to find the infuser?" His eyes flicked to the black daggers he'd left with her.