Instructor Skinner took Declan’s question like a blow to the eyes. Then he focused. “The ability to make runes from scratch was lost two centuries ago in a civil war that almost destroyed the country. As for monster runes, not that we know of. Weren’t you mumbling that these were ‘shit runes’?”

  “Yeah, because they reinforce beautifully but there’s no cohesion. At some point, they stop being lines and become ideas. Maybe even concepts of what could be.” Declan had never seen a tier seven rune but would kill to.

  “I’ve seen blazed beasts that literally killed themselves with their own runes. If there is a guiding hand, there is no evidence in my life. Something has altered the nature of swarms. That same something is forcing the swarms to emerge in new patterns and driving us to adapt. You are dismissed from your duties for the day, I’ll have a guide for Lake Domine. I doubt she’s in danger now that she’s an ArCore member. Her first treatments are five days from now.”

  Declan found that interesting. “Treatments? What treatments?”

  “There are exercises to align mana channels,” Skinner said. “But there are ways to stimulate the channels to grow. Its why the Crown provides protection to Estek. They ranch the ghillas whose venom is harvested to provide the treatment.”

  “Venom. Why does it have to be venom? Let me guess, it’s horribly painful? Why?”

  The old man laughed. “The creatures of this world do not gather magic for our benefit. They do so to survive. We take that power at a price, to survive better. The venom in this case is a toxin that affects the mind. I recall it being quite pleasurable.”

  Declan cursed under his breath. “I’m going home. I’m going to bed. I’m going to sleep for three days. Unless House Ariloch catches fire, let me sleep. And tell Rohan I want to continue mana channel training. Those poses aren’t doing much for me.”

  “I approve of that plan. It’s been nearly twenty hours since you began study and you’re not one of them. I want to see that second mana stone under your control and I want it this week. There’s no higher priority for you.” Skinner went to knock on the door.

  Declan went to sleep.

  ###

  The life of a house arcanist could be divided into two segments. The first was pure exhaustion. The second was someone pounding on the apartment door relentlessly. “Is the house on fire?”

  “No,” a woman called back.

  “Go away!” He rolled over. And froze as the locks clicked. “Ash and shit! What’s the point of having locks if everyone can override them?”

  “Not everyone,” Rohan said as he entered the apartment. The man looked worn. His smile was grim, his cheer forced. “I came by to keep a promise and I need to be in a glint transfer four minutes from now. You’ve worked the spine and the primary channels. Now you need to complete the circuit with them by working the core. This only works when channeling mana, so direct it downward.”

  He had Decklan kneel, back arched, shoulders downward with arms stretched out as though he was reaching. “When this works, you’ll feel it in your belly. Go gentle. Count of ten for real.”

  The effect was immediate, a burning ball of fire in his stomach he couldn’t even hold for ten. “What happened with the plant monsters?”

  “Vine Leachers, we’re calling them. They can be flushed out with light runes and then burned to ash. We know now. And it won’t be the last we need help with. Is it true, you’re learning to fight with a sword?”

  “Only until I can kill a blazed beast and claim a rune. I don’t need an arcsoul to use a rune. I can use a mana stone.” Declan bent over, clutching his stomach. “Count of ten for real this time. Hey, Rohan. You look tired. You need a break.”

  Rohan actually let his smile slip. “Three new arrows ready in five days. I can make it five days. In a week, we’ll have twice the manpower. In a month, four times the coverage. We won’t be as deadly but this is survival.”

  “I have an empty room upstairs and will testify you were saving me from a Storm Walker.”

  Rohan let out a slow breath. “When the new arrows are in flight, I’ll take you up on it. I really will. This isn’t what we signed up for, but monsters don’t call ahead and check your schedule.”

  Five days.

  Delcan had five days to master the mana stone. The mana bearing hadn’t been this hard, had it? Actually, it had been much harder, but this wasn’t just a matter of force. Every day, he managed minor emergencies. Every day, he spent hours at the library, even taking shifts in the armory to grow his insight. The breakthrough came when he gave up. When he switched and began to orbit the mana bearing to ease the burning in his stomach from channel work.

  How could a rusted, corroded cannon ball obey his will, but tiny mana stone wouldn’t? He was holding the small one, orbiting the bearing, and made a mental slip. The mental nudge went to the wrong object, and he desperately corrected. For a split second, he was mentally in touch with both. Mana gushed into the small stone.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  That was the key, and why each tier grew more difficult. One had to be able to split focus, or maintain it on all the existing runes as well as the new one. It took him another ten hours to do intentionally what he’d done by accident.

  Another four hours to force mana deep into the stone.

  Progress at 100%: Mana Stone Bound

  It surrendered, and without fanfare, it rose and circled gently. The gentle wave of mana it drew as it completed was like a spritz of water compared to a tsunami but it was welcome. Declan headed to his morning beat-down, also known as sword lesson, with the stone still orbiting. It wasn’t a rune but it didn’t matter. He was so close he could taste success.

  What he wound up tasting was blood, as Anthony declared his heart wasn’t strong enough to handle a mana stone and a wooden practice sword. Even though Anthony himself killed a spikey octopus that manifested between them without even missing step. “See? It is a good day. You should smile more, my friend. Your heart would grow stronger.”

  He couldn’t wait until lunch, slipping into Skinner’s class during changes with the mana stone orbiting. “I did it.”

  Skinner nodded and held out his hand. A third mana stone. “There is a point, the point is not suffering, and before you claim it’s impossible, consider the evidence walking the halls of Ariloch. We have more tier three arcanists than any other. They’ve done it. In this matter, you are no more or less advantaged.”

  Declan was certain he knew the point. With two mana stones, empowering a tier one rune would be possible. Not simple, but sometimes, possible was enough. “Thank you sir. I want to be able to contribute.”

  “Contribute?” Skinner dropped his pen and locked his gaze on Declan. “What do you think identifying that rune was? The monsters are woefully easy to deal with if one knows. There are more ways to ‘contribute’ than to slay the blazed.”

  “Yes sir.” There probably were, but they didn’t align with Declan’s goals of becoming a powerful arcanist. “Anything else?”

  “As Long Dark approaches, so will testing. Most will test three times a year to certify for skills. Your house will be under immense strain during this time, and mastering a third rune is daunting task requiring both practice and patience.” Skinner resumed writing as he spoke. “A surprising number of ArCore candidates call House Ariloch home. They would not ask, but they, too, will need help.”

  That was probably a way Declan could help.

  ###

  At lunch, only Harris Harding was present, which made the table feel small but the conversation impossibly large. “Today. Tonight, actually, I’m going to merge that dream rune and the Claw. Unless I screw it up, and then I’ll only have wasted another year.”

  “How many years have you been practicing?”

  “Since I was twelve. Mom and Dad wanted me to be an battle arcanist but I lacked a couple of important things and had one that made it impossible.” Harris reached out and caught the mana stone as Declan orbited it. “Very nice.”

  “What did you lack?”

  “It’s more about what I have, really. I have sanity, Declan. You’re carved from their template, not mine. I love what I do. I love it. You run around acting like one of those ArCore freaks. I want runes but people will bring them to me, eventually. They’ll beg me. Pay me.”

  It was true, as best Declan had been able to tell. Inscriptionist could transfer runes to higher quality materials, they could forcibly merge runes to produce higher tier variants, or change modifiers within reason, a process called ‘tuning’ a rune. “What did Roland’s house do to get banned from turning in corrupted runes?”

  “He had an tier two arcanist using them. Dude’s in literal prison and will stay there until they burn away his arcsoul. An actual blood member of Perth, it’s a disgrace and Roland’s doing them a favor by taking the blame.”

  That hit an area Declan didn’t understand. “Why would anyone use corrupted rune?”

  “They’re at least twice as powerful. A tier three arcanist using only corrupted runes could take on anyone on staff except Instructor Atkinson, Fana Brieze or maybe old man Skinner. Skinner is far, far more powerful but Atkinson teaches dueling for a reason. Brieze is fucking weird and terrifying.”

  So the answer came down to power. It always came down to power. “How many new ArCore members in Harding?”

  “Three. They’re being showered with gifts, artifacts, and that’s on top of the ArCore treatments and training. If they survive, they’ll be some of the most powerful arcanists in the world. Every last one will be married into Harding within a year, if they don’t die.” Harris mimed grabbing a stone. “Marrying into a noble house is a business transaction, not a love story. Two generations ago, my family were merchants with the good sense to focus on shipping rather than selling. Powerful parents mean powerful children that are part of the house.”

  “Long Dark testing is coming soon. Let’s assume House Ariloch wasn’t a grab-bag of mixed nuts and bolts. What will you or Eden or Roland do to help prepare?”

  “Food and company. Get volunteers to help people with the memorization, give them the commons room to practice skills, don’t ask them to perform chores. Roland won’t do anything, he’ll have someone do it and convince them he’s doing them a favor.” Harris grumbled. “I swear he has a mind rune. I swear it. He understands what motiviates people. Except you. He knows what you want but he doesn’t understand the why.”

  “That’s not hard to explain—”

  “Please don’t. Watching him try to puzzle it out and fail is one of my little joys in life. Eden wants money. She wants power and knows that floaty, glowing stones are just one kind of power. She wants them all. Bet she negotatiates a marriage contract within a decade and comes out with way more than she offers.” With the meal over, they moved on, and out, Declan to the Armory and Harris to an Inscription special class.

  Armory shifts were a good way to make a little money and no way to gain shards. Declan spent most of them second-checking other’s work and occasionally writing up irregularities in runes. They weren’t all perfectly formed and that didn’t indicate a fake in every case.

  He sent a message—and fifty rin—to Hayden begging a favor.

  The man was more passionate about cooking than Harris was about inscription, and that suited both of them just fine, but now he needed help and he knew who to ask. When he arrived, Hayden was hunched over by the fire with Chen by his side, laughing about something. Along with him were two younger arcanists, both from the minor house who ran caravans. Urik and Gurnak, the two were cousins, Declan gathered, and blood relatives but that meant they were more easily used as hostages or pawns when their grandfather declined a dangerous shipment. Hayden had brought them in and vouched for their hard working nature.

  A month had proven him right. Declan led them to the library, which was still lacking books, but served as an ad-hoc meeting room. “Gentlemen? I need your help.”