“How is he the Head of Senate if he caused the war?” Vhalla frowned. It sounded like he should’ve been long dead.
“Because Egmun craved knowledge in all its forms; he collected it, hoarded it. And some of that knowledge was inevitably the sort that other people didn’t want to be made public.” Victor sighed and stood. “His foolishness cost him his magic. But it did yield information that we will be able to use.”
“How?”
“Egmun needed the sword because he needed it to access the heart of the caverns. The crystals have a single heart from which their power stems.” Victor was back to rummaging. “Every other crystal’s power comes from being spawned by this center, like tiny looking glasses into the caverns themselves. Hence the channels they build in search of that magic, which taint sorcerers and commons alike.”
Vhalla was reminded of the Northern ruins where she’d procured the axe. The moment she freed the weapon from amid the crystals, the others had darkened into dormancy and fractured. “The crystal weapons are like smaller hearts, aren’t they?”
Victor turned and gave her an approving look. He rested a box with Western writing on its lock on the desk between them. “Exactly so. Because of that, they are the only thing that can access the true power of the caverns—which is one reason why they’ve been so sought after. But I also theorize that they would be the only thing that can destroy that power as well.”
“An axe that is legendary for cutting anything, even a soul.” Vhalla stared at Achel.
“Perhaps, the soul of the caverns, if you will.” Victor sat, opening the box of crystals he’d used on her after her fall. “You’ll need to cleanse it, sharpen it.” He motioned to the axe. “Look at it with magic sight.”
Vhalla obliged. The axe was a tangled mess. Dark colors overlay lighter ones, a swirling mass of lingering traces of magic.
“Those are remnants, like a vessel; the axe has been dirtied with the leftovers of things it’s been used for.”
“Like magic blood,” Vhalla reasoned.
“That’s certainly a way to think of it,” the minister agreed. “We will have one chance at this, Vhalla, and I want to set us up for success by removing all the possible variables that could get in our way. I want no magic reacting in ways we don’t expect.”
The minister spent the rest of the afternoon going back and forth with Vhalla on the properties of vessels and how they were created. He educated her on how a Waterrunner could draw out the magic from a person by tapping into their Channels.
The theory was the same for what they were seeking to accomplish, but the execution was completely different. Victor tried to help as best he could, though there were some things that were left to trial and error. Vhalla ran her fingers through the magic that hovered around the axe, imagining them to be threads fluttering on the wind.
With this imagery, she pushed them upward, focusing on one at a time. It was wind without wind, a level of magic that she had never tried to tap into before, and it was utterly exhausting. Once she had a thread free, the minister provided her a crystal to store it within. That was much easier than the brow-dampening process of untangling the magic from the axe.
She managed three threads before she felt utterly spent. Vhalla blinked away her magic sight and collapsed back into the chair. Victor wordlessly began to clear his desk of the tools they’d been using all day.
“You did well,” he encouraged.
“I will be an old maid by the time it’s cleansed,” Vhalla lamented.
“Your second was faster than your first, and your third faster than your second.” Victor smiled, rounding his desk. “Think of it as learning magic all over again.”
“I just finished learning magic the first time.” She stood, stretching.
“Then the process is fresh in your mind.” Victor chuckled. “Thank you, Vhalla,” he said sincerely. “You’re going to be the catalyst for a new age.”
“One step at a time.” She shrugged. As all she sought was lasting freedom and peace, Vhalla kept her eye on the prize.
“We should work again tomorrow, if you feel up to it.” The minister started for the door.
“I have a feeling this is how I am going to spend my days,” she murmured.
“It is. I want to move quickly, but not so quickly that you burn out . . . so rest in the morning. I don’t want you pushing yourself on trivial things; this will be taxing enough for you. When we are not working, focus on giving your magic ample time to recover.”
“I’ll be certain to take it easy,” she agreed lightly.
The minister paused, unappreciative of her tone. “I am quite serious. We are working with advanced magic unlike anything you’ve ever seen before.”
Vhalla held her tongue about the magic she had seen in the North.
“Don’t fret.” She shrugged off the minister’s worry as fatherly concern. “I’ll keep up my strength.”