We followed the mine shaft for a while in silence. I estimated we were probably beneath the town by then, heading toward the center of the crater. I vaguely recalled that Darkstar Mine had once been a source of a rare ore called asterite, which could be processed into weapons or armor that were extremely receptive to sigils and enchantments. Spirits, even higher-level ones, just loved the stuff. Supposedly, the iron construct that Iago the Ice Mage used to bind that elder spirit was laced with a fortune’s worth of it. And this mine was one of the few places it had ever been found. Lysander had said they were still doing some kind of ritual, even though there wasn’t a baby. I wondered why Crowley picked this place for that. It didn’t seem like a coincidence.
We passed a couple of smaller branching tunnels, but Lysander kept following the main shaft, so I assumed he knew where the Alath Guild was holed up. Deep in the mine, it was even colder than outside, and so dry I could practically feel the moisture leaving my body. Occasionally, my mind would wander to the idea of just how much solid rock was pressing down on top of us. But that would be accompanied by a faint tingle of claustrophobic panic, so I had to push those thoughts away. Thankfully, I had a lot of practice in refusing to think about things.
Finally, I could see some light ahead. I doused my flame, and Lysander gestured for us to dismount. We tied the horses to a wooden support arch, then continued quietly on foot. As we walked, I yanked my other glove off and shoved it in my coat pocket, just in case I needed to light up in a hurry. We were coming for a reborn Crowley with a whole guild full of worshipers, so who knew what we would find.
The passage opened into a vast space that looked like it had been laboriously carved out of the rock by hand. Immense wooden frames filled with broken rock acted as support columns to keep the high ceiling from collapsing, while a wood-plank deck covered the gaping hole where they’d mined beneath. That wasn’t great news. I’d been thinking I could really cut loose in a contained area comprised entirely of rock, but clearly I’d never actually been inside a mine before. I understood now that if all this wood went up, the whole place would come down around our ears. I might be immune to fire, but not several tons of rock.
Still, it was pretty late, so if we could catch them all asleep, maybe—
“Ah, there you are at last!”
Or not.
But when I looked toward the voice, I was surprised to see only one mage, rather than a whole guild. He was seated at a small wooden table, slouched in a chair with a book in his hand. His scarlet-and-gold hood was pushed back to reveal shaggy black hair that gleamed in the warm flickering light of a lantern. His pale gray eyes were wide with excitement as he stood up.
“Crowley,” I said.
“Ah, so you do believe me. I wasn’t entirely certain you’d come around yet. And I trust you have been pondering our last conversation.”
“Oh sure. You’re claiming that spirits and human souls are the same thing. That we have unknowingly been forcing our ancestors to light our lamps and drive our coaches.”
“Unknowingly?” Crowley asked with a smug look. “I think not.”
“How could anyone know? How would something like that even be proved?”
“Iago the Ice Mage learned of it when he successfully bound an elder spirit. In fact, it was that knowledge which momentarily weakened his resolve enough for the elder spirit to break free and kill him. But Iago’s husband survived.”
“What?”
“Someone had to, didn’t they? Otherwise, how would we know what even took place that day?”
“It was forensic evidence…. They pieced it together….” Even as I said that, I couldn’t actually think of how so many details in a case still taught by the academy could be known merely by examining the aftermath. And that was what I did for a living. “Or maybe… some theotic mages did divinations….”
“I’m afraid not,” said Crowley. “No, Iago’s husband went right to the guildmasters and told them everything. Of course the guildmasters killed him, covered the whole thing up, and turned it into a cautionary tale about the tremendous risks associated with talking to elder spirits so that no one would ever attempt it again. After all, if people found out that grimoric magecraft was more or less slavery, it would mean the end of their time as the most powerful force in Penador.” Crowley frowned thoughtfully. “I’ve heard that the king knows as well, but I haven’t been able to verify that for myself.”
I wish I could say I didn’t believe the guildmasters would ever stoop to something so low, but after what they’d done to me, it didn’t seem like much of a stretch.
“So how did you find out?” I asked. “Because let me tell you, you’re no Iago the Ice Mage.”
He winced. “Ouch. But you’re right. I had help from the elder spirits.”
“And they helped you why? Because you’re just so darn likable?”
“No, I was an arrogant prat back then, and not half as clever as I believed myself to be. I know that now. But I agreed to do something for the elder spirits, and in exchange, they taught me how to retain my consciousness past death and prepare a new host for when I need it.”
“And what did you do for them?”
For some reason he looked not at me but at Lysander, who had been strangely quiet this whole time. “A conversation for another day, perhaps. It’s not really relevant to what we’re doing right now.”
“And what is it you think we’re doing?”
He looked back at me with genuine surprise. “Haven’t you put that together by now, Rosalind? We’re trying to liberate our kind from centuries of forced servitude.”
“The Nevma Year,” I said. “So that wasn’t just a line you fed Edmund? You really do want to make that happen?”
“I want to free all those poor trapped souls from their sigil prisons.”
“And civilization will collapse.”
“Be honest, Rosalind. It’s not much of a civilization if it depends on such repugnant methods, wouldn’t you agree?”
If what he was saying really was true, it was hard to argue that point.
“Okay, I grant you. But even assuming I believe what you’re saying, which I’m still not sure I do, there’s got to be a better way to do it. A way that doesn’t involve the potential injury or death of countless innocent people who have no idea that they might be accomplices to all this.”
Crowley’s gaze turned cold. “What makes you think I care about those… meat sacks, as elder spirits refer to them.”
That reminded me uncomfortably of my conversation with Gomeh, but I wasn’t going to let it show.
“So what does the fake baby have to do with the Nevma Year?” I asked.
He made a sour face. “A messy bit of business, but unfortunately necessary. In order to trigger the Nevma Year, one must take a shard of asterite, carve several sigils onto its surface—which was no small feat I can assure you—and then incubate it in a living mortal womb for nine months.”
“So you stuck it inside Lady Celia, then cut it out when it was ready.”
“After nine months, the ore shard is a bit larger and pulsing with dense astral energy. It will continue to grow for the next few days until it is fully mature. And then it will collapse in on itself, opening a rift between the material and spirit realms that breaks the bonds of nearly every spirit within at least a hundred miles, probably farther.”
“And that Gomeh character has been helping you?”
“Helping me?” He seemed tickled by that. “Gomeh is one of the elder spirits. It’s their plan. I am but a humble servant, grateful for the gift of immortality I have been given and the opportunity to free my brethren.”
“Well, you made one mistake,” I said.
“Oh?”
“I don’t know whether it was out of vanity or just to fuck with me, but leaving a trail for Lysander and me to follow was really stupid. Now that we’re here, we’re never going to let you start the Nevma Year.”
“Oh, my dear, dear Rosalind. Did you think I would tell you all this if the shard was still here?” He looked truly disappointed in me. “I may still be a bit vain, but I am far from stupid. At this moment, my remaining guild members are preparing the asterite shard in the stately capital of Monaxa, where it will detonate near the palace in roughly three days. To maximize the impact, I thought we might as well go with the largest, most spirit-dependent city in Penador.”
“So why bring me into it? You were dropping clues all over the place, so you knew I’d come here. If you’d just let it alone, I would never have left Drusiel.”
“Because we wanted to keep you safe.”
“Who’s we?” I asked.
“Who do you think has been leaving most of the clues? Not to mention who got you the job with Lord Edmund in the first place. While it’s true our reasons differ, Lysander and I both want to keep you safe during the tumultuous days ahead.”
I let out a laugh. Conspiracy theories were one thing. But now he’d really taken it into the realm of the impossible. Imagine, Lysander working with Crowley.
“Wow, that’s a good one.” I lit my hands up nice and pretty. “Now you’ve had your fun, asshole. I may not be able to kill you without sending you off to some new host, but I can make you wish you were dead. Right, Lye?”
My partner didn’t reply. And once again it occurred to me that he’d been real quiet throughout this whole exchange.
The fire faded from my hands. “Lysander?”
I tried to turn my head, but the muscles in my neck felt as stiff as iron. Like they didn’t want to let me see. But I had to, so I forced myself to look.
The expression that my oldest, my best friend in the world now had on his face was a mix of solemnity, sorrow, and guilt, but mostly relief. Like he could finally stop pretending.
“I’m sorry it had to be this way,” he said. “But it’s for your own good.”