Killian.
Ella spoke the last of the activation sequences Evrin had given her, and the white door opened. Ella stepped inside, and of its own accord the door shut behind her.
Somehow the small cottage was cavernous inside. Ella was in a sitting room with shelves filled with books lining every wall, other than where a solid leather armchair rested next to a cold hearth. She saw an arch leading to another room, and stepping through, she found a dining room, also filled with shelves of books in addition to the square table and seating for four.
Another chamber was a large workroom, with a few vials of black liquid neatly spaced on the shelves alongside a bewildering array of scrills. A long bench filled the length of one wall. Stacked books stood piled on a side table beside three black cubes covered in tiny symbols. A golden egg sat on a stand, and a dozen wands of all shapes and sizes lay on another shelf. Gems filled a bowl, and bracelets and rings hung on hooks. Tall, bizarre devices Ella couldn’t categorize clustered against the wall.
Ella left the workroom and found a kitchen, a huge room filled with knives, pots, and pans. Near the kitchen a set of steps led down to a cellar, and expecting more works of lore, Ella was surprised to see racks of wine bottles, neatly ordered and categorized with scribbled tasting notes.
“Alturan silversweet. Dessert wine. Plum and nutmeg overtones. Delicious with chocolate pudding,” Ella murmured as she read one of the descriptions. She smiled, shaking her head.
There was so much of Evrin’s personality in this place. Ella was filled with sadness and comfort in equal measures, and she felt closer to the old man than she ever had before.
Climbing the steps out of the cellar, she went back into the sitting room and began to scan the shelves. So many of these books’ pages were made of the strange metallic fabric Ella had seen in the Lexicons and the book that had led the primate to the hidden relic.
As she drank in the sight of all the knowledge, Ella felt frayed nerves began to settle and ragged emotions calm.
When Brandon had died, she’d buried herself in her studies at the Academy of Enchanters. After Killian vanished into the portal, Ella had again thrown herself into her work, going to Mornhaven to help Evrin build the new machines that would once more give the Empire essence.
Ella had lost too many friends: Evrin, Layla, and now Rogan. She didn’t want companionship. Ella wanted knowledge. She needed lore.
Finally, Ella allowed herself to think of Rogan, testing herself, seeing if she could bear the loss. The pain was raw and jagged.
Ella’s breathing began to catch and she pushed the thoughts down. Selecting a book from the shelf she read the cover. Of Plants and Animals.
Ella sat in the leather armchair and began to read.
Soon, the pain melted away.
71
Winds of change swept across the lands of the Empire.
New essence rolled out in drudge-pulled carts from the catacombs under Mornhaven. This time priority was given to the houses that had sacrificed the most.
Though they weren’t part of a house, and preferred the glint of gold to the glow of runes, the proud people of the free cities even received their own allocation. The unexpected wealth would go a long way toward rebuilding Castlemere and Schalberg.
Councilors Lauren and Marcel decided to appoint a new joint mayor to oversee the work and renew the ties of trade that the free cities depended on. Hermen Tosch grumbled, but he finally agreed—in return for concessions for his new trading company.
The winds swept away the last odors of decay.
In Seranthia, a contingent of tough Tingaran legionnaires halted outside a sprawling manse stretching from the edge of Fortune down to the harbor’s edge.
Killian waited impatiently while his captain called through the barred iron gate to summon the owner of the manse, Lord York, one of Seranthia’s wealthiest nobles. As the hired guards on the other side of the fence ran to find their master, Killian looked at the nervous man at his side.
Lord Osker combed his fingers through the thin hair covering the bald patch on his scalp. He looked frightened.
“You’re certain?” Killian asked. “Lord York is the one?”
Osker licked his lips but nodded decisively. “I’ve known for some time.”
Killian scowled. “Then I’m not going to give him a chance to get away. Stand back.”
The legionnaires stepped away from the iron gates at Killian’s command. The emperor spoke a series of activations and moved his hand in a vertical cutting motion. A flash of bright light flickered from his palm, slicing through the bar holding the gates closed.
Two legionnaires hauled the gates wide open.