The Lore of the Evermen (Evermen Saga, #4)

“Quick, let’s go. Here, let me carry your bag,” Ella said.

Ella led Evrin around the outside of the buildings, skirting the Great Court at first, not wanting to re-enter so soon after her dramatic departure. She asked Evrin about his journey and then told him about her voyage to Agira Lahsa.

“How is Killian?” Ella asked.

“He’s well. Extremely busy. I have taught him enough, I think, and if I showed him more, he would have too much to practice and likely be proficient at none of it.”

“Can he stand up to Sentar Scythran?”

Evrin shook his head. “There is no way of knowing. He was always powerful, Sentar, and extremely cunning.”

“Where will he land, do you think? The fact that you’re here . . .”

“Ella, I don’t know. I’m here because your brother possesses a strong conviction it will be Altura, and he’s a smart man. I’m also here because Seranthia possesses the Imperial Legion, the fleet, storehouses full of prismatic orbs, and dirigibles. I’m here because Seranthia has Killian. It doesn’t matter where Sentar lands. Even if he takes his ships to Aynar and rouses the templars, he must be stopped where he is.”

“How long will we have you?” Ella asked as they strolled around the far side of the Green Tower.

“I’ll stay here until a signal lights to send me elsewhere. An ingenious idea of yours, by the way.”

Ella blushed at the compliment. Coming from Evrin, it was high praise indeed.

“Come on,” Ella said. “Luca doesn’t need me for the moment. Let me show you what we’re doing here.”

Ella took Evrin up a set of stairs and skirted Ash Building to reach the lecture halls they’d repurposed. Immediately she smelled sulfur, a terrible stench of rotten eggs that grew worse as they approached.

Inside, some knowledgeable Veldrins and open-minded enchanters mixed chemicals. Ella explained the process. They purified the raw sulfur that miners carried from the mountainous south, until it was a bright yellow powder. Miro’s men also mined saltpeter from the hills in the east. Finally, black powder resulted when they combined the sulfur and saltpeter with ground iron.

Liquid in clear glass bottles bubbled on heatplates with glowing runes. The new Veldrin alchemists loved heatplates; they said they could control the temperature must better than with flame.

“I have to say,” Evrin said, “I understand none of this.”

“Fascinating, though, isn’t it?” Ella said, her eyes shining. “Amber gave me a book from one of the masters of the Alchemists’ Guild. Since then we’ve found cures for many common ailments and learned more about the physical world than we ever understood before. Our knowledge is moving forward in leaps and bounds.”

“Is everyone at the Academy as enthusiastic?”

Ella frowned. “No, not everyone. I’d like it if the Academy kept studying these things, even after we no longer need to produce black powder in quantity. But if they won’t, I have a plan.”

“Tell me about it,” Evrin said as Ella led him back out to the open air. They both inhaled deeply, happy to be outside and away from the sulfur; the former lecture halls were all high ceilinged, but even so, the air was noxious.

“I’d like to found an academy of my own,” Ella said. “I haven’t actually said anything about it to anyone. Perhaps it’s a foolish dream.”

“No, Ella. It’s not foolish. Go on; I want to hear more.”

“It should be somewhere central. Perhaps Mornhaven—that’s where the essence is, after all—or Seranthia. I’d like to get the loremasters of all the houses together for a meeting, similar to a Chorum, with everyone from the high animator to the high cultivator present. We could bring all the Lexicons together and share knowledge. We could discover where essence’s power really comes from, and we could learn the things even the Alchemists’ Guild never knew. Who knows where the knowledge could take us?”

“It’s a lovely dream,” Evrin said. “Please don’t let it stay that way.”

Ella smiled at Evrin as she led him to the workbenches spread throughout the Great Court. She didn’t introduce him—he was uncomfortable with reverence—and he received only the occasional curious glance. Old men weren’t hard to find around the Academy.

Ella showed him the armorsilk and the new runebombs—some designed to roll, others to adhere to a wall or patch of ground and project a controlled explosion. She then showed him the catapults—purely mechanical devices—intended to throw barrels of black powder and clusters of prismatic orbs.

“We’re trying everything,” she said. “We’ve tried to get cannon to shoot runebombs, but so far it isn’t working. Do you think you could help?”

“With cannon? It’s not really my forte, my dear.”