Chapter Text
I led the way through the glacial ice cave, footsteps echoing along the tunnel carved by meltwater, the light filtering through layers of mineral ice tinted shades of vivid blue and green.
“I cannot believe you would choose to come here on purpose,” Hades grumbled irritably.
“It’s not that much further to the other side,” I had to struggle not to laugh.
I had offered to take Hythlodaeus anywhere on the star he wanted to go sightseeing, as recompense for having accidentally ruined his life by bringing him into contact with the most honorable Emet-Selch of the Convocation of Fourteen. Hythlodaeus had chosen the alluvial plain of this glacier. On the grounds that a new creation was scheduled to be released here, and he wished to see it in its environment.
Hades had interjected with a series of increasingly insulting grumbles and sour remarks, which I eventually interpreted to mean that he absolutely did not want to join us on a hike through icewater in the mountains under any circumstances. But he also absolutely did not want to be left behind. And additionally, he also did not want to admit to that last bit.
Learning to speak Hades was a challenge greater than keeping my accidental fire count under double digits.
I had extended the invitation to him as well, and he’d replied with a long-suffering, “Oh, very well, if you insist upon it.” Which. Nobody had. Whatsoever.
“I think the light here is lovely.” Hythlodaeus declared, “And did you get a good look at the ice worms, Hades? Fascinating creatures.”
Somehow, I was not surprised he liked the ice worms. He was friends with me and Hades, after all. He seemed to have a particular fondness for weird extremophiles.
Hades made a disgusted noise.
We emerged from the ice into the snake coils. The valley carved around the the mountain by the path of the glacier over time. I had taken us through the cave to avoid having to swim through the vast lake that formed in the outwash plain at this time of year. I was reasonably certain that while I found the terminal moraine beneath the water fascinating, neither of my friends would appreciate a dip in icemelt to see it. Even if the icemelt was an extremely pretty shade of green.
With the wind blowing off the ice, it was a hard malm or so to reach the shelter of the trees.
I got to the woods first, and waited for the others to catch up, feeling something stirring nearby.
Hades arrived second, the most impatient to get out of the freezing wind. He caught me watching for trouble and stopped.
“What is it?” He asked in a low voice.
“I’m not certain. There’s a lot of wildlife in this area that could take issue with our presence.” I could tell where it would arrive, but not whether it was coming from above or below. Well, that could get interesting.
Hythlodaeus caught up, and leaned on Hades to catch his breath. “Is there trouble?”
“I don’t know yet.” I smiled. “Let’s find out.” I drew my sword and shield from the aether just in case.
The first creature landed almost silently. Talons striking the earth with a muffled sound. Long, lean, feline body covered in brilliant feathers. The second one did not. It took a branch off with its hind feet as it passed through the canopy, and landed with an irritated snarl. I thought from the haphazard colors of its feathers that it might be a juvenile, and I felt a twinge of sympathy for the rough landing. Two more alighted behind it. And then another. And another. A whole flock. Of very territorial flying lifeforms.
“Oh! Gryps! I’ve always wanted to see one in person.” Hythlodaeus whispered, delighted.
Hades sighed and shook his head. “Now what?”
I shrugged, then made the loudest, longest screeching noise I could.
All the gryps stopped as if frozen.
I made the sound again. Hades was definitely rolling his eyes behind his mask at me.
The gryps took wing in unison.
“You absolutely do not speak gryps.” Hades muttered, glaring at me.
“Not even a little.” I beamed. I had been imitating the calls of hunting hippocerfs. He didn’t need to know that, however.
Hythlodaeus tried to hide a laugh.
We pressed on through the trees down to the plain below, and came to a stop at the top of a small ridge of what once had been terminal moraine but was now grown over with alpine heather and grasses.
“There they are.” I pointed down the valley.
The group of monoceros was so brand new they were still tentatively prodding and sniffing the earth with hooves and horns. The first they’d ever set foot upon. The team from the Bureau of the Architect responsible for their release was just visible in the distance, keeping watch to make certain the creations acclimated properly.
Hythlodaeus sat down on the heather and clasped his hands in front of his face, watching with a rapt expression.
I really did feel terrible about ruining his life. I suspected this view would not make up for it, truly.
He, Hades, and I had repaired a number of badly corrupted aetherial currents while the Fourteen were otherwise occupied. And this had brought him to the attention of Emet-Selch, overseer of the aetherial realm. Who had decided to attribute the majority of the credit for this feat to Hythlodaeus.
This may have been due to the fact that I barely know what an aetherial current is, and most of my contribution to the problem had come in the form of fire. And Hades, who had actually diagnosed the problem, and identified its source, had been unconscious and partly overwhelmed by darkness at the time. So. Who else could it have been, really?
And now the Keeper of the Underworld had decided to take Hythlodaeus under his wing.
I did not doubt that my friend could make an excellent Emet-Selch, if he were so inclined, but Hythlodaeus had politely declined the honor of being apprentice to the Third Seat, as he does not care, even the tiniest bit, about magick, souls, aether, or the underworld. He loves Creations, and more specifically, the ideas behind Creations. Unfortunately, he phrased this refusal… in a too Hythlodaeus-like manner. I don’t believe he would be capable of being either rude or adamant if I picked him up and dunked him in the glacial lake. And Emet-Selch had not chosen to interpret his refusal… as a refusal.
Though, to be entirely fair to Hythlodaeus, After having spoken to him myself, I… am not convinced that the most honorable Emet-Selch understands speech. Or. People for that matter. The living sort, at least. At all.
“What an extraordinary creation!” Hythlodaeus beamed. “Far better in person than it seemed in the concept. Do you see them taking in the aether?”
I did not. But Hades nodded. “Yes, I’m sure it will be very efficient for them to live on both vegetation and aether in this wretchedly extreme environment.”
One of the monoceros raised its head and snorted, stamping one foot repeatedly, and the whole group scattered across the valley and out of sight.
“Shall we go after them? Or is there something else you wanted to see while we’re here?” I asked.
Hythlodaeus was still gazing off down the valley. “Do you mind if we stay here for a bit? While this has been lovely, I could use a rest for a moment.”
I had dragged them out of the city to help me in the past, but I hadn’t ever made Hythlodaeus walk for malms and malms and I had forgotten that hiking. In the mountains. Was not an activity either of my friends were actually accustomed to. The thinner atmosphere, harsher climate, mostly vertical terrain, and direct sunlight were all entirely foreign to souls who’d lived all their lives in Amaurot. On flat pavement. Over the sea. Sheltered by colossal towers that blotted out the sky.
I sat down beside him on the heath and offered him my canteen. Hades joined us, and I also took out a bag of dried fruit and passed it around.
“Is this what you do all the time?” Hythlodaeus asked, taking a drink from the canteen. “Explore remote parts of the star? With snacks? In between battling monsters and the occasional filing system, of course.” He grinned.
“Every moment of every day.” I declared as solemnly as I could with a straight face. It was not true. An inordinate amount of my time went towards laundry and taking Argos for walks.
Hades was picking all the apricots out of my bag of fruits. “Except for the time you spend looking for trouble.”
“Hades, give me a little credit.” I sniffed, “I hardly have to look for trouble. It follows me around, complaining.”
Hythlodaeus entirely failed to conceal a laugh at that.
I pointed down the valley, where the team from the Bureau was now packing up their equipment. “Down there is the lake where the first transcontinental migratory birds ever created spend the summer.” Unsurprisingly, Hythlodaeus had chosen a good spot for sightseeing, if the sight you wanted to see was mainly creations. “And this valley is home to twenty different species of alpine flora designed by the first Halmarut. Most don’t even have tentacles. One has flowers that only open in starlight.”
As I said this, I caught sight of some very, very big danger from the other end of the valley. Where the team from the Bureau of the Architect still was.
Shite.
“Wait here.” I said, and teleported to the team just in time for the sounds of rocks shifting from the slope to the west. I flicked my hand to catch all five of them in a translocation spell and took us back to Hades and Hythlodaeus as the entire surface of mountainside on the west of the valley slid downward with an overwhelming roar, burying the spot where they’d been a moment before.
The Bureau team only gave me a dumbfounded look for half a heartbeat before they all turned to watch the earth billowing and churning like storm clouds over their end of the valley.
“I… think this might be a good moment for everyone to leave?” I suggested tentatively. Remember that people do not always make the wisest choices in an emergency, Azem always said. It was not beyond the realm of possibility that they would decide to argue this point with me. Even though. The ground might kill them. “If the slope is unstable there, it could break further up the valley, too.” I said this to Hades and Hythlodaeus, in the extremely improbable hope that they would take the hint and decide to go home now.
I had my eyes ahead a few moments, alert for any more moving earth, but I knew how fast an avalanche could occur. I had been lucky, grabbing the team in the first place. I might not be that lucky again.
“That shouldn’t… all the readings were normal.” One of the Bureau staff managed to say after a moment of shock. One of them sat down so hard I suspected his legs had given out.
All right, yes. They were not in the make wise choices stage of traumatic experience yet. I looked at Hythlodaeus, “If I send you all back to Amaurot, can you get them to the Words of Emmerololth?” I didn’t think any of them were injured. But. It’s usually a good idea to have someone better versed in healing and trauma response than me verify that.
“And just what do you intend to do in the meantime?” Hades demanded.
This was why I had asked Hythlodaeus, who might actually do the thing and not Hades. I knew he wouldn’t cooperate. “I’m going to check the environmental beacon. Assuming. It’s not under a bunch of rubble.”
“I… yes. I can look after them.” Hythlodaeus was also in shock at having witnessed countless tonze of rock flowing down a slope like water. It’s… not a sight you grow accustomed to, really. I cast my translocation spell again to send them all to the Macarenses Angle. Getting the traumatized Bureau personnel from there would be up to him.
“I’m coming with you.” Hades insisted, stepping out of his circle, of course, because he would never, ever, in ten thousand years make my life easier. What did he think he was going to do in the event of another landslide? Glower at it? Yes. More than likely, that’s exactly what he thought he would do.
I sighed.
I returned Hythlodaeus and his colleagues to Amaurot.
“The beacon should be up there.” I pointed to a nearby peak, just visible over the western slope. Which. Had collapsed. And was continuing to shed the occasional plume of debris.
He stared up at the mountain in the distance, uncomprehending. Great. I. Was going to have to say this out loud now. Shite. Hades, why are you so difficult?
“I’m… uh… goingtohavetofly to get there.” It came out in a mumble, and I may have invented a new form of language in the process. Words too embarrassing to be perceived as words. “Are you sure you don’t want to go back to Amaurot now? I’m certain Hythlodaeus could use the help.” Please agree to teleport back. Please? I held my breath.
Hades looked back at me, turned an almost fuchsia shade of pink and then declared, with a long suffering sigh, “Oh, very well. I’ll assist with that.” And snapped his fingers.
He summoned a familiar. Something shaped like an equine. If. They usually had claws and fangs. Which they did not. Amaurotines. It was wearing a saddle.
He climbed onto its back and offered me a hand to join him. He. Expected me to ride the. Toothy. Clawed. Equine thing. With him. Of course he did.
First of all: How long had Hades had a flying familiar? And second: How dare he? This had to be a new creation of his. There was no possible way that the most infuriating boy on the entire star had the power of flight and had chosen to climb up and down a mountain with me, to the detriment of his own health, on the day we’d met.
Well, my current mortification was nothing compared to what I’d suffer if I had to transform in front of him. And also. Probably start a brush fire with my wings during takeoff. I stifled a sigh, took his hand, and swung into the saddle behind him.
“Hold on.” He warned as the familiar launched itself into the air. Great. Now I had to hang on to Hades while he flew us to the peak. And there was a very good chance that he didn’t even know what an environmental beacon was or what we were looking for. So he was definitely the wrong person to be directing our flight, really.
But we did reach the other peak. After what probably only felt like an extremely awkward eternity. He had spotted the beacon after all. Probably, his keener view of the aether made it easier for him to see.
I slid off the familiar’s back before its feet touched the ground. I did not have to do a great deal of investigating to see what was wrong.
The beacon was completely engulfed in some sort of cocoon.
“What is that?” Hades asked. He didn’t quite want to touch the sticky mass of silk enveloping the beacon, and I didn’t entirely blame him.
“I have no idea.” I couldn’t see any movement around us. I judged it safe enough to crouch down and peer into the past.
An unsurprisingly enormous moth had spun this… thing. Although nothing in the memory suggested why. That. Wasn’t normal behavior for any sort of moth. And I didn’t know of any varieties with twenty fulm wingspans anyway. A creation?
I pulled myself back to the present. “Let’s… see if we can get this off the beacon without destroying it.” I said. I drew my staff from the aether, and Hades did the same.
His fire spells were considerably more efficient in removing the silk from the beacon, but also somewhat more likely to damage the equipment. My wind at least kept the burning to a minimum. Between us, we got the towering pylon free.
Immediately, the crystal atop the pylon turned a warning shade of red. Which. Was a little belated. But good job, beacon. Proving you still worked.
“That should alert the Convocation. Assuming the team from the Bureau haven’t already.” I said. So. Really. I could have done that alone. With far less embarrassment although probably one more accidental fire on my record.
“You don’t think it at all strange that the only result of that… substance was the beacon emitting a false safe signal?” Hades was glowering at it. And. He did have a point there. Everything about this was strange.
“Very. In the memories, it looked like that was spun by a giant moth. They don’t do that. They don’t create cocoons for anything other than themselves. Or maybe their own eggs. That was not normal behavior.” They weren’t arachnids, who webbed prey to save for later, and even if it had been a giant arachnid, why would it web a beacon? The pylon was neither food, nor hunting ground, nor a place to leave its young. This had to be a creation of some kind. Had it been made only to sabotage the beacon? Why would anyone want that?
He sighed. “Another mystery on our hands, then.” He both did and didn’t sound annoyed by that.
I mean. Me, too.
“If you’re finished here, we can return to Amaurot now.” He sniffed. As if I were the one who’d delayed going back and not him.
“I can send you, but I can’t go with you.” I shook my head. “Iris comes back today.”
He gave me a puzzled look. “Why should that matter? She can hardly constrain you from going wherever you like.”
“It’s tradition.” I explained, “Iris is the most senior of us, and whenever she returns from a lengthy mission in the Capitol, all of Azem’s students meet her at the house for dinner.” This was as inviolate as Never neglect Argos among the unwritten rules of the Students of the Fourteenth Seat. “Even if we’re in the field at the time. Even Endymion suspends his missions long enough to come back.” I was not going to tell him this tradition was called an Iris Has Escaped Amaurot Dinner. I was. Fairly certain. That would go over poorly.
Hades frowned. “Oh, very well, then.” He sounded profoundly annoyed by this revelation, but then. He usually did. So that might not mean anything.
I cast translocation circles and returned us both to our respective homes.
I arrived in the garden outside of the house. Argos wandered down the path towards me, tail wagging. From the amount of movement I sensed inside, I guessed that he had determined it safer to wait for dinner to be over outside. Argos didn’t eat food. He absorbed ambient aether. His interest in dinner was primarily how many people would play with Argos afterward. I scratched his ears and debated whether I ought to go in and attempt to help with whatever preparations were ongoing, or stay out of the way, and therefore cause fewer setbacks. The front door burst open, and Euphrosyne appeared, unhooded and unmasked, chestnut hair starting to escape her ponytail, sweeping dust out into the garden.
“Ithas! Excellent timing as usual.” She waved. “Come in and sit down. Iris just arrived!”
I gave Argos one last apologetic pat and went inside.
Endymion and Azem were bringing food over to the table. I assumed that Azem had been keeping an eye on him while he was engaged in food preparation. Or Euphrosyne was. In the event that he dozed off in the middle of a task and fell asleep onto a hot surface or a kitchen knife. Endymion was mostly recovered from his aether-sickness. Mostly. Not. Entirely.
Iris, meanwhile, was standing at the table, robes immaculate and every strand of her pale golden hair perfectly in place, exactly as if she had not just traveled thousands of malms and only just walked in the door, waiting for everyone to take a seat.
“Ithas! There you are!” Iris beckoned me over to the table as if, perhaps, I might have decided to go somewhere else during an Iris Has Escaped Amaurot Dinner. I took the chair to her left. Azem took the one to her right, and Euphrosyne finished frantically cleaning things, and we all sat.
“I can scarcely believe I saw you on the streets of Amaurot, of all places.” Iris smiled, passing me a bowl full of rolls. “I was certain I’d imagined it afterward.”
“Strange phenomena occur all the time, usually to me,” I declared, filling most of my plate with bread and handing the bowl to Endymion.
“All right. I must ask. How did you know there was an incident in the Words of Halmarut?” Euphrosyne was scooping roasted vegetables onto her plate in a heap. “Even you couldn’t have seen that coming from thousands of malms away.”
“I just happened to be there when it began.” I mumbled. Iris was silently gesturing that I had to take salad, and the memory of fighting a horde of lykopersika made that… unsavory.
“Don’t just eat bread,” Azem chided me, and scooped vegetables onto my plate. Usually, I like vegetables. Just. Not. While thinking about angry lykopersika. “Ithas made some friends in Amaurot.” She smiled at the others, “And we are most fortunate for it.”
Endymion stared at me as if I’d transformed at the table. Which I had not. I’ve never done that. Not. Indoors, at least. “Ithas made friends?” He blinked repeatedly. His pale silvery eyes could look unfocused even when he wasn’t confused and suffering aether-sickness. “In Amaurot?”
Okay. That. Was uncalled for. Particularly from Endymion.
“You met them. In a manner of speaking. They came to Pentheus to help me with the aether problem there.” I started tearing rolls apart and stuffing bits of bread into my mouth in the hopes that it would end this conversation. Why were we talking about me anyway? I wasn’t the one who’d just returned from being trapped in an endless meeting in Amaurot.
Euphrosyne and Iris were both staring at me in shock. And. Actually, so was Endymion, when I looked up from my hoard of bread. Great.
“Ithas… since when do you call upon anyone for help but us?” Iris asked, her food forgotten.
I was never going to live this down.
“I needed an aetherologist.” I sighed. This. Shouldn’t be such a shock, should it? “To diagnose a problem with the aether. So. I called one.”
Azem took pity on me. “Endymion, how are you feeling? Your aether still looks a bit sluggish.”
Endymion shrugged and began listing off his remaining symptoms of aether-sickness, meanwhile Euphrosyne and Iris were continuing to stare at me. And then across the table I saw the sparkle in Euphrosyne’s aquamarine eyes that inevitably means something terrible was going to happen. To me. Usually.
“Well! We can’t allow Endymion to remain the only one of us to meet Ithas’ new friends, now can we? Particularly since he was asleep at the time and can tell us nothing whatsoever about them.” She smiled the most non-innocent smile ever smiled in the history of mankind. “You must bring them to dinner soon.”
My stomach dropped through the floor.
“What?” My voice hit an octave normally only audible to dogs. I didn’t know what the rest of that sentence might even be.
Iris had now recovered from her shock enough to regard me with that look of calm, rational consideration that she usually used only to terrify Convocation adjutants. “Yes. I agree completely. It would not do to allow our youngest student to wander Etheirys with complete strangers.”
I. Usually. Fight. Monsters. Alone. What did she think Hades and Hythlodaeus were going to do to me? Persuade me to like rhetoric? There were not enough snacks in Amaurot for that.
Azem favored Iris with an amused smile. “While I hardly think that these friends pose a danger, it would be appropriate to get to know them, perhaps.”
Oh no. Azem, how could you?
“That settles it.” Euphrosyne was beaming. If it were possible to march at the head of a victory parade while sitting at a table eating roasted vegetables, she was managing to do so. “You’ll just have to invite them to the house, Ithas.”
Shite.