Chapter 2-60

Our new settlement wasn’t much to look at, but at the same time I knew from the moment we saw the place that unknown forces were still manipulating my fate. Set into a large clearing, the indistinct mounds of old Metic homes were buried under tender flowering vines, which gave off a fresh, sweet perfume. Though Sati had been purged of her soul sickness, the vines that had represented it lingered in her hopes and ambition, and were physically reflected here.

Like many things that could be poison in excess, a reasonable amount of ambition was healthy. We would certainly need our confidence, even a measure of arrogance, to stand against the Pure and claim a part of Metic for our own.

“Uillean,” Riona spoke when she saw me pause to inspect the flowering vine.

“Like the rune? That will be the name of this place then. Uillean.” I liked the feel of the name on my tongue.

“It will make for simple markers, anyway,” she laughed. “Be careful though, you’ll lay a working on the whole town.”

“As a place where your ambitions become reality. A dangerous legacy, but one I can’t turn away from any longer.” I smiled, with only a touch of bitterness.

“Just remember that we give meaning to the runes, not the other way around.” The druid's voice was firm, but kind, and I saw a surprising level of understanding in her eyes. “Don’t let signs and portents lead your fate. Make them bend to your will.”

We fell silent as we looked back over the picturesque field. The entire herd of goats had already begun gorging on the sweet vegetation, tearing into emerald stalks and seeming to savor the white and gold blooms. I laughed as I saw Ita and Ina fight over a particularly lush patch of foliage, then join forces to drive the other goats away from their claim.

“If my eyes don’t deceive me, I see at least five large buildings, and a scattering of smaller ones. This was more that a small steading. It would have been a large village.” I looked at Riona, leaving my question unspoken, but she glanced to one side, where Saoirse stood.

“It’s no secret,” the shifter said with annoyance. “This was mother’s retreat after she returned from the Pure. Once your lot were done with her, she didn’t handle groups of people well, but the clan still turned around her. She came here for peace and privacy, but the place sprung up around her anyway, her and her string of lovers.”

“Not partners?” That was unusual. From what I had gathered of Metic matriarchs, temporary lovers were common, but generally in combination with a few committed partners. Only the youngest tended solely toward temporary companions.

“She was hard to live with.” Saoirse spoke without any emphasis, as though discussing the color of a stranger’s hair, but I could feel her presence ripple with old anger, so I let the matter rest for now. As much as I suspected that clan Ket’s former leader had been experimented on, what did it matter now? Maybe if I could find proof it could bring the sisters some closure, but it wouldn’t change the past.

“I’m surprised none of the buildings have fallen in,” I said instead. “I know that growing plants over the buildings is common, but even so this place seems like it’s been abandoned for a long time.”

“It’s the resin.” I was pleased that the shifter was still talking, rather than withdrawing after mentioning her mother. “The sap from the redwoods can be boiled until it’s thick, and then it sets when it cools. The resin is strong, but it has a little give to it. Layered between the stones it makes the walls incredibly durable”

I made a thoughtful noise, trying to picture what she was saying. I knew that metal was strong because of its ability to flex and give without breaking. Perhaps it was like that? Then I chuckled to myself. I had no need to imagine. Sweeping the area with my senses, wary of hidden dangers, I headed toward one of the larger mounds. One that the goats were steadily clearing Myta and Sati joined me, seemingly caught up in my sudden excitement.

These buildings were usually oblong, with a single entrance at one end. It took a bit of time for us to locate the steps leading down, buried as they were by low shrubs. My flame manifested her glaive, kissing its edge with a line of intense fire. Her weapon had taken on a slightly altered look after I had adjusted her seal, and its silver surface reflected gold highlights as she cut away the brush. The stairs were in poor shape, wooden assailants having torn apart the stones in a frantic bid to lay claim to the rich earth beneath. The door however, was treated hardwood, and had weathered nature’s **** with nary a scratch.

“Mother’s home,” Saoirse shot me an indecipherable look as she pointed to a sigil embossed on the door.

“Your childhood home?” The thought struck a strange chord with me, stirring an emotion that I couldn’t easily define. Something that wasn’t quite nostalgia, hitting notes both bitter and sweet. My companions and I all had complicated relationships with the very concept of family, but like shards of broken glass, the sharp edges only made the idea glitter more enticingly. Longing for what we never actually had.

I’d made peace long ago with my lack of blood relatives, then survived the destruction of my home. Finally I’d turned away from the last survivors of that home, when they sacrificed their morals on the altar of self-righteousness. Myta had been sold into slavery by her own father, to fuel his incompetent ambition and narcissistic greed. Sati at least knew her own father cared for her, but it was in a manipulative, condescending fashion. Smothering, rather than supportive.

The pain and fraught relationship that Saoirse alluded to made this house seem familiar, fitting. I couldn’t see that as a good thing, but I also couldn’t deny its draw. Like poking at a lose tooth, it was a discomfort that begged for attention. I could tell that Myta and Sati felt it too.

The broken steps descended until my eyes were at the level of the flat ground, the door was tall, and the hill that was built up over the home was quite a bit taller. Despite its age the door swung open easily, its thick red wood unwarped, its hinges unsoiled.

The interior was stunning, constructed with a simple elegance. The walls were fieldstone, remarkably well-fitted, and sealed with the resin Saoirse spoke of. The substance had a smoky, glossy appearance, which seemed to glow under light of the fire I conjured in my palm. There was furniture, which surprised me, simple things, but finely crafted. Heavy tables, bed frames, shelves, and chairs; things that I suspected were seen as simply too cumbersome to be worth moving.

“It probably is the best place for you.” The compact shifter offered, tracing a crude carving atop one table with her fingertips. “She had plenty of rooms for her aids and lovers, which you’ll be needing for your own aids and patients. A few larger rooms as well, and multiple hearths to heat different parts of the place.”

“Would you be comfortable living here again?”

“Why would I be living here?” Saoirse blinked in confusion.

“Seeing how big this place is, I’m guessing we’ll try to keep all our closest companions with us.” I glanced at Myta and Sati, who nodded in confirmation. “You will be our closest point of contact with Siobhan, and your knowledge and skills will be invaluable. Not to mention that I still mean to try and heal you. Having you close would be useful, and the offer is open, at least.”

Another confusing expression swept her face, though this time I thought I caught a hint of **** hope. Unwanted, and painful. She shrugged after a moment, her face becoming a mask of casual unconcern.

“I’ll take you up on that, though you may come to regret it. I’m not known for being pleasant company.”

“It’s settled then,” I answered her shrug with one of my own. Breathing in deeply, I took in the scent of the forest, exuded by the resin coating the walls, I thought. I let my mana seep into the building, filling in the cracks, strengthening the walls and foundation, scouring away the surprisingly minimal hints of dust and mildew. There were runes carved into the building stones, and I tuned them, made them ours. This house had good bones, and it welcomed our presence, sang to my touch.

I couldn’t contain my smile as I looked at my companions.

“Welcome home.”

***

Entreyu took a calming breath as he released his hold on the puppet, allowing the harsh incense to scrape his throat and lungs. It had been… annoying to learn of the setback in Metic, but that was a personal distraction, with little impact on his plans. The Metic clans were fractious, disorganized. Even if they didn’t fall apart before the Ootrin arrived, they would still be the first nation to be overwhelmed.

The sage smiled, as the music of purification reached his ears. Golden light simmered in his veins, bringing with it the soothing scent of roasting meat. Five hundred monks had been born from the halls of purity, and another thousand demons leashed to the cause of righteousness. Not even the coalition of nations forged by the tyrant Ramana, to sack the holy city, had boasted ao many awakened. The horse tribes might have only a fraction of their former numbers, but what did that matter when one awakened could match a dozen mortal warriors on the field of battle?

The Shattered Lands would soon be cleansed, and really, Metic was the most sensible place to focus his efforts. Sweep that country, and Ramana and Tribeta both would focus solely on preserving themselves, letting the Pure move freely.

Wiping that cold, condescending gaze from his former master’s face wasn’t something that weighed on his decision. Nor was the presence of the girl who had disrespected his personal tutelage. Ishantur had been a promising pupil at first, but lacked the zeal necessary for the Pure Way. Their presence didn’t weigh on him, but he’d take satisfaction in their deaths nonetheless.

Comforted by his thoughts, and the smell of burning flesh, the Golden Sage assumed the expression his followers feared most.

Entreyu smiled

End of Book 2