Declan sat at the kitchen table, telling them again everything he’d written and much he hadn’t, and listening to the gossip of the Foundry, who had broken what, who had a new child, the new shift who couldn’t be trusted, the old ones who had died.

  “What are you doing?” he asked his pop. “I bought your contracts. I thought you’d retire.”

  “And do what, son?” Jan asked. “I am a workman. I work. Your mother, she helps in the kitchen now. Her fingers hurt in the cold, but the kitchen is warm. I do not feel right if I do not fix. But I work less.”

  His mother shook her head. “He works a little less. Did you hear, Jen Scythe is to be married in the spring to a Sullivan!”

  “I’ll congratulate her tomorrow,” Declan said. “I have two days before they reset the array. I sent rin. Why are you still living here?”

  “Why would I move?” Jan asked. “My father worked the foundry. His father. I work here, it’s good work for good men. Maybe you’ve become fancy.”

  “Jan!” his mom scolded. “You remind me of Raleigh. Gods, in that outfit. I’m sorry the bloodstone didn’t work for you.”

  “It wasn’t meant to be. There are many paths to power and I’m finding my own.” He drew a mana stone and set it to orbiting. “I’m learning in spite of the problems. And I’ve got friends. I was an advisor to the ArCore. I was twenty feet from an emissary of the Sun Queen herself. I killed a blood mist spider.”

  “ArCore,” his mom said. “Are they as powerful as Raleigh claimed?”

  “Easily. One of my friends is a duelist for House Domine who just joined. I saw her fly from one side of the academy clear into the world wound, kill three blazed beasts and soar away.”

  His mom’s face had gone pale. “Promise me. Promise me you won’t go near House Domine. Don’t talk to them. Don’t turn your back on them. Don’t. It was a ‘duelist’ from House Domine who killed your father.”

  That set Declan back. “I can’t promise that. Lake Domine is a friend. Hell, Tegan Domine encouraged me at evaluation and if Lake were coming to kill me it wouldn’t matter if I turned or ran or faced her. But I want an answer. Why? What threat was Insight?”

  “I am not one of them. I can only say what your father said. I was a seamstress then, for House Domine. Not one of the family. No, just a servant. He saw me making a gown for a lady. And that, as they say, is that.” Her voice had grown cold and bitter as weak coffee. “I live a different life now. I have love.”

  “Always,” Jan said.

  Declan took his mana bearing from his pack and set it on the ground. With a nudge it began to roll, slowly moving until it completed a circle and a weak wave of mana gushed in. “This was the best gift ever. Thank you both.”

  By late evening he ducked down and climbed the stairs to lay in a bed that was too small and yet always fit before. Maybe he’d grown. Maybe it was that his world had.

  ###

  Declan had breakfast in the worker’s hall, surrounded by the factory workers, keeping his mana stone in orbit just to entertain them. “And then the spider leaped! But I smashed it over and over until the blazed beast was dead!”

  Cheers rose up through the dining area and demands for more tales.

  “I need to rest my voice and wet my whistle,” Declan said, looking at the cider barrels. “Someone else should tell a story, and then? I’ll tell how I go this scar: Face to face with the most powerful arcanists in the world, summoned in the middle of the night for a task only I could do. If the rune activated and I was wrong? Someone would die. But for power? Sometimes you have to bleed!” He raised his shirt to show the angry red wound on his belly and retreated to the cider barrels.

  It was like home.

  But he missed Ariloch. House-Sense told him Emperor Chen had tried the door to his apartment twice. Someone had left the rear doors open for the last hour and there were at least ten visitors and two rooms occupied that should not have been.

  Chickens roast on the spit and soup boiled in the kitchen, while Declan looked out at the weak daylight, watching workers shovel ash-mud from the doorsteps.

  “I found it comforting. Coming from Mazal to here. Running, afraid, with a baby,” his mom said. She wore a kitchen apron and stood beside him. “It’s the way the world goes. I’d rather you live in a large world than make yourself small enough for here.”

  Declan nodded. “I’m sorry about last night. You have memories I don’t. You remember pain I can’t. I don’t hate the Domine house. If all of House Rush fell into the World Wound I wouldn’t mind. Lord Rush is the only man who ever made me feel like I didn’t even exist.”

  “Ash and shit on him, then,” his mom said. “And his entire house.”

  “I’ll drink to that.” Declan did. “How long until the Foreman comes to visit?”

  His mom gave a knowing glance to the big house nestled against the factory. “He’s busy. Sullivan themselves sent blood members to oversee the array. This is big for Foundry. It worries me, that they’d allow this. How bad is it, really?”

  “The ArCore do what they can, but the swarms are in two flavors. Some we can predict. Others we can’t. It’s not random but we don’t understand all the rules yet.” Something nagged at the back of his mind. Something that didn’t quite connect, like he’d heard it, been told it and now it lay just out of grasp. “They respond in minutes, less now that the Glint array is targeted.”

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  Again, he hesitated. It wasn’t house-sense gnawing at him and he had no arcsoul, just a suspicious understanding of human nature. “I have to check when the glint closes. I’ll be back.”

  With his cloak drawn tight, Declan headed out and down to the glint array, where workers fussed with runes, using diamond awls the size of swords to adjust things. “I was told this closes in two days. When was the time started?”

  “I just do what the crown says,” one of the artisans answered. “They say build, I build. They say adjust, I know where the rin comes from. We’ll give warning if we get warning. We’ll have this round of adjustments done within the hour, you can go back then.”

  That gave him enough answer for now. He had no intention of returning yet, just a fear of being trapped.

  “Sir Arcanist!” Someone called.

  Declan looked back toward the factory. A contingent stood there. Foreman Scythe, with a man in a cream business suit and heavy coat, and a pair of guards. “Yes?”

  “I wasn’t informed of your arrival,” the cream-coat man said. “I’m Baker Sullivan.”

  “Declan?” Forman Scythe called. “Ash and shit, boy! When did you come in?”

  Declan headed toward them with confidence he didn’t feel, comforted by the weight of his pack and the thought of the Protect charged in his pocket. “Foreman. I volunteered to test the glint array last night. I was the fourth to come through and the only one to arrive with my feathers intact.”

  The foreman continued to stare at Declan like he’d seen the foundry light up on its own. Declan let his mana stone lift into the air and casually orbit, but kept his eyes on the two. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sullivan. I came to see my parents for Long Dark.”

  “I think you have us at a disadvantage. Your name?”

  “Thorn. Declan Thorn,” he said before another answer could be given. “I was just checking on adjustments to the glint array. It will be ready within the hour.”

  Baker Sullivan continued to stare. “What house are you aligned with?”

  “House Ariloch,” Declan answered. “It was a pleasure meeting you, but my attention must be on my family. Foreman, give Jen my warmest regards and congratulations on the wedding. Is this the groom?”

  “I should think not,” Baker Sullivan answered. “I must insist you depart. The arcite foundry is the sole province of House Sullivan by the Sun Queen’s order. If you wish to swear an oath of loyalty, we could arrange a tour, dependent on verification by the Academy.”

  “I have family here,” Declan stated.

  “And I have a duty.” Baker Sullivan looked to his guards. “Remove him by force if necesary.”

  “To where? The glint array is not functioning, not for an hour. Foreman, could you please go get my parents and tell them?” Declan knew better than to challenge a noble who believed he was doing his duty, and Foundrytown felt hollow and small. He headed back to the glint array, followed by Sullivan and his armed dogs.

  Not long after, his parents hurried toward them.

  “What is this nonsense?” Jan asked the foreman. “You know my boy. You know his mother. He played naked in the ashes with your daughter when they were only this high.”

  Baker Sullivan answered. “No arcanist without an oath-stone to Sullivan may be in Foundrytown without leave of the house. I have not granted that leave. If he departs, there will be no house war. If he chooses violence we will bless him with violence.”

  “Jan.” The Foreman stepped between his pop and the Sullivan man. “Listen to me. This isn’t about Declan. It’s a rule for all arcanists, so they don’t steal the foundry runes. House Sullivan can’t have others able to refine arcite.”

  Declan still remembered the glow of the foundry. The lines and shapes that had no meaning before and now…he could absolutely do exactly what they suggested. “I should leave and I will. It was good seeing both of you and I would be delighted for you to visit me. The journey is long, but I’ll pay.”

  “Sensible,” Sullivan said. “We will wait here to see you off, Sir Arcanist.”

  Declan felt sick at his stomach. Not just the souring of memories, but actually sick in a way he recalled. He channeled mana down into the ground and counted as it refilled. The feeling grew stronger with every passing heartbeat. “Mom, Pop, go home. Close the door. Lock it, block the windows and build a fire.”

  “Son?” Jan asked.

  “Go!” He ordered as the feeling grew even stronger. “Lock the doors, block the windows. Go now! Jan, you must go!” Using his father’s name shocked the man into movement. Declan finally knew what the feeling was. Mana was growing thicker. Not Arliloch thick but thicker by the moment. The thin threads of connection began to weave together. They were testing a new glint array, one that could be triggered faster. They had to have guessed. Maybe they didn’t know Foundry was a swarm location but they had to know it could be and had chosen to build the array here and test it first because they’d need it first.

  Baker Sullivan looked at Declan, panic growing in his eyes. “There’s a swarm coming? Now? They said we had days.”

  “If I can feel it, it’s close,” Declan shouted. “You need to get people indoors. Lock everything. Hide and wait for the ArCore. Technicians, how long until that array is active?”

  “We’re working as fast as we can,” one of them said. “We could have it going faster, if you don’t want anyone to survive.”

  Trapped and with mana rising, a swarm was coming, Declan considered his choices. “Sullivan, give the order. If you have any way to send a message, send one to the Academy and tell them Declan Thorn says the swarm is coming at Foundry town.”

  “The foundry. The arcite will draw them in,” Baker Sullivan said. “We’re supposed to have the army. We’re supposed to have our own arcanists in addition to the ArCore. They’re going to tear through the foundry and destroy everything. Guards, to the foundry. Drop the storm shutters and seal the doors. We’ll make our stand there.”

  Declan looked to Foreman Scythe. “What he said. Everyone to their homes. Storm shutters. Bar the doors and block the windows, build fires in the chimneys. I’m the boy who they knew when I was a baby. You’re the man who runs the factory, the people will listen to you!”

  “What are you going to do?” Foreman Scythe asked.

  With every moment, mana grew thicker. Declan checked his runes and made a choice. “I’m staying here. We need the array active.”

  The foreman was a man of action, used to driving men to get work done. “Anything else you need?”

  “Yes, sir. There is. I need a sword.”

  “I’ll deal with the men. You stop by and check on Jen. In my den—”

  Declan sprinted toward the foreman’s house, running as fast as he could. He didn’t knock on the door, hadn’t knocked on the door. He threw it open and shouted. “Swarm’s coming! Get to the root cellar and bar yourself in!”

  Then he made a beeline straight for the private den. Above the fireplace set the silver sword he’d stared at since he was a child, sealed in a crystal case. Declan pulled at it, pushed, fought in and finally ripped the entire case and threw it on the fireplace hearth. Crystal shattered and someone screamed.

  Jen Scythe stood in the doorway, dressed in palest mint green. Declan truly saw her for the first time, probably, in his life. She was gentle and round and still had dimples on her cheeks when she smiled, which she wasn’t right now.

  He’d never noticed how she’d grown from a girl to a woman, his memories of her locked by their friendship. If Lake was angular, thin and deadly, and Tegan wild and dangerous, Jen felt the closest to home since he’d come back. She looked healthy and more importantly happy—well, probably—when a strange arcanist wasn’t shattering heirlooms.

  He pulled the sword from the wreckage and checked the edge. It was plenty sharp to cut. “Jen, you need to go to the root cellar with your mom and the servants. Your dad’s getting Foundrytown to lock up. Swarm’s coming.”

  “D—Declan.” She stepped back, eyes wide, taking in his House Ariloch cloak, boots, the mana stone orbiting him. “Ash and shit, it is you. What are you going to do?”

  He threw away the worthless scabbard and pushed mana into the sword, making the rune enchantments glow. “There’s a swarm coming. And I’m going out to meet it.”