Victor of Tucson

Book 8: Chapter 23: The Council's Response

When Victor woke the next day, he saw that the sun had yet to rise, which was good because he was supposed to meet Dar in his new cultivation chamber at dawn. He concentrated, reactivating Sovereign Will, which had a tendency to drop while he slept, and pushed his bonuses into dexterity and agility. With his already nimble body boosted, he practiced his stealthy movements, sliding out of the bed and creeping toward the door.

He only paused to pick up Lifedrinker and the ivory case containing his captured geists before carefully pulling the door open, inch by inch, until he could slip through. He was certain he hadn’t made any more noise than a feather falling onto grass, but Valla still rolled over and mumbled, “See you for lunch.”

He chuckled. “See you.” Then he slipped out and, standing in the dim, quiet hallway, got dressed. “That was pointless,” he muttered, imagining one of the staff coming upon him half-naked outside his room. With a grin and a shake of his head, he hurried to the kitchens, pausing to use the bathroom, where he cleaned his teeth and splashed water on his face. That done, he descended into the tunnels beneath the house. They were wide, well-lit, and sized for a giant, so it wasn’t an unpleasant walk to his cultivation cave.

Victor arrived before Dar, which had been his main goal for not lying in bed, waiting for the sun to brighten the sky outside his window. Smiling at his small victory, he sat in the center of the chamber and set the box before him. He hadn’t opened it, let alone touched the bones since Lo’ro had dropped him off at the house, and he was a little nervous. He’d thought long and hard about the bone where the fear-attuned geist dwelled, wondering if he should mention how it spoke to him. Would Dar be angry? Would he destroy the spirit and force Victor to find another, less . . . conscious one?

He didn’t know, and part of him wanted to speak to the spirit again to see what it thought and discover the “secrets” it had promised before Dar arrived. Another part recognized the danger of it and couldn’t see a real downside to asking his mentor. He was trusting the master Spirit Caster with a lot, more than anyone outside of Valla or Tes—it felt like the right move would be to ask him for advice on the matter. So, he sat there, staring at the box, trying to clear his mind, until he heard the faint scuffs of Dar’s bare feet on the stone.

“Ah, apprentice,” he said as though he was surprised to see him sitting there. Victor wasn’t buying it—he was pretty sure Dar could feel every presence, down to the smallest rodent, on his property. “Eager to renew your studies into cultivation?” He stepped out of the oval opening in Victor’s stonework and surveyed the chamber before sitting across from him. The two giant men made the chamber feel small even as they sat on the floor, legs crossed. When their eyes met, and Dar’s smoldering orbs peered into Victor’s mind and soul, he said, “I can feel a question burning your tongue.”

“It’s more like a confession.”

Dar’s stony brow lifted. “Oh?”

Victor bit the bullet and decided to get straight to the point, “Yeah. When I went through the veil with Master Lo’ro, I deceived him.”

Dar’s brow fell, his eyes narrowed, and Victor felt the tiniest fragment of the man’s aura pressing against him. Even that brief touch felt like a mountain grinding against his spirit, vast and possessing a gravity that defied common adjectives. “Yet you intend to speak plainly and expose the deception to me. I am placated.” No hint of the weight remained, and Victor breathed out the breath he’d been holding.

“That’s right. When we were collecting the geists, trapping them in the bones,” Victor gestured to the ivory case between them, “I managed to capture a powerful fear-attuned spirit. Lo’ro was impressed, but the truth is, the spirit came willingly. There was no battle of wills. The spirit spoke to me, told me not to reveal that fact, and that she would share ‘secrets’ with me if I took her out of that place with me.”

Dar looked at the case. “And has ‘she’ spoken to you since?”

“No. I haven’t touched the bone.”

“Well, you’re both an idiot and wise, it seems.” When Victor opened his mouth, unsure if he should object to the label or just apologize, Dar held up a thick, stony finger and continued, “An idiot for risking your mind and spirit by pulling this geist into the containment vessel, wise for not trifling with the thing before first speaking to me.” He turned the box so the clasp faced him and opened it. His eyes brightened momentarily as he stared at the two bones, and then he snatched the rib bone out, holding it before him.

Suddenly, Victor felt a flare of potent, brilliant Energy, and though he wasn’t the focus, he felt the edge of Dar’s formidable will. He stood beside a mighty river as it carved a canyon from the stony ground. His mind filled with the image, unable to resist visualizing the metaphor, watching as waters deeper than an ocean and broader than most continents dug through a Jupiter-sized planet of solid rock. The water broke it up, transforming the world as it went, sending life-giving tendrils through the stone, enabling trees and grass and . . .

The feeling abruptly ended, and Victor opened his eyes, his mind once again his own. He saw Dar before him, holding the bone in his palm as half a dozen new runes etched themselves into it, glowing with brilliant white Energy. “This enchantment will harmlessly prevent the spirit from interacting with you. I’m quite impressed by the being lurking within this vessel, Victor. You’re not ready to deal with such as she, however. You’ll need to advance your will; I’d say you’re about halfway there. When you can easily wipe these runes free with your own Energy, then it will be safe for you to commune with the spirit who dwells within.” He set the bone back in the case.

“Thank you, Dar. Did she plan to harm me?”

“She’s a being utterly consumed and twisted by fear. Her intentions are less than lucid. She’s ancient, even to me, but her potency in death is a fraction of what it might have been in life. Still, she wouldn’t reveal her so-called secrets, even in the face of my wrath. I might have wrung them from her, but she entered a contract with you. I could feel the karmic ties. Fragile though they are, I won’t be the one who severs them; the repercussions may be far-reaching.”

“A contract?”

“Did you not agree to bring her forth in exchange for her secrets?”

“Yeah—”

“Victor, you’re no longer a boy with no weight in the universe. As your power grows, so do the impacts of your actions. Everything you say, especially where emotions are involved, bears weight—everything you do, even more so.” He held out his hand and wriggled it in the air. “Someone like you, someone with an intense, potent spirit, sends ripples through the ether with every meaningful act. Making deals with desperate, powerful spirits is not something the universe takes lightly. There are beings even I cannot grasp who take notice of such things.”

“Gods?”

Dar shifted his boulder-sized shoulders in an attempt at a shrug. “Perhaps. There are people on myriad worlds who would see me and name me a god. Am I? I think not. I’ve visited a thousand worlds, and my travel has taught me that I’ve only scratched the surface. There are many millions of planets in the System-controlled part of the universe. I’ve talked to scholars who speculate that the System is relatively new, that there are more worlds outside its control than within. There are beings out there with the mystery and power to be considered godlike to even the likes of me. Knowing that, knowing how little I know. Who am I to say what a god is and whether they exist?”

Everything Dar said made Victor think of Tes, and he asked, “Have you ever been to one? I mean, a world that resisted the System?”

“Aye. The Fae don’t traffic with the System, and I’ve visited a world controlled by them. It’s a lengthy tale, but I’ll say this: I stood before the Winter Queen and felt insignificant. I finished my business and haven’t looked back in centuries.” Dar sighed and pulled a small ring off his pinky. He held it in the palm of his hand, and Victor leaned close to look at it. “Enough philosophizing. I have gifts for you.”

The ring looked like it was made of polished, gray stone, though he saw a vein of silvery metal running through it. It was pretty and lustrous, and when Victor squinted, he could see that it gave off a tiny amount of light against Dar’s black, stony flesh. “Nice,” he said, waiting for further explanation.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“It is nice.” Dar chuckled. “It’s a dimensional container, though far finer than any of those you wear. This container has limited space, but it can contain objects of power, such as these bones and the other cultivation items I’ve acquired for you.” Dar moved his hand over the ring and suddenly held a perfectly round orb. It looked like the glass part of a snow globe, but inside, Victor could see the swirls and sparkles of bright, golden Energy that could only be glory. He knew he was right when his Core flared in response.

“Glory.” His voice was barely a whisper.

“Aye.” Dar set the orb on the dark blue, silky padding inside the case, next to the two bones. He waved his hand over the ring again, producing another orb, this one full of bright, misty, white-gold Energy that Victor immediately knew was inspiration-attuned. Dar set it in the case, then, from the ring, produced a third—this one roiling with a heart of molten magma, white-hot in spots and cooling toward somber orange-red in others.

After he’d set it in the case, Dar touched the two bones and said, “These captured spirits are more potent than these hearts, but—”

“Hearts?”

“Ah.” Dar clicked his tongue and shook his head briefly before saying. “When a cultivator enters their lustrous veil, they become capable of creating these Energy hearts using a process similar to the creation of Energy beads. This heart,” he tapped the glory-attuned globe, “is a hundred-thousand times more potent than a glory-attuned Energy bead you might create.”

“That’s worth a hundred thousand beads?”

“Hah. No, lad, as flat currency, Energy hearts are useless—the System will not accept them at its city stones. I’m not sure why, but people speculate that it doesn’t want to destroy its economy for the vast majority of Energy users. Still, they can be used in trades; creating one is a lengthy, tedious process, and they can be valuable for someone who might need a particular Energy type.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Let’s not get distracted by trivia. These three hearts will serve as potent cultivation sources for you until you reach your test of steel. After that, you’ll need to find sources with more depth.”

“The bones will last longer?”

Dar snorted. “Yes. That’s like asking if your spirit is more potent than a single Energy bead.”

“Are they hard to get?” Victor could see the crease in Dar’s brow as his questions began to irritate him, so he hurried to explain, “I’m just asking because I feel a, well, a duty to my friend, Lesh. He followed me here, hoping that I would help him advance, and I’m leaving him behind to go to your granddaughter’s world. I wanted to give him something he could use to cultivate his breath Core.”

Dar frowned, but it seemed more contemplative than angry. “An acid attunement?”

“Yeah—”

“I’ll acquire one for him. However, that will be the last gift I will freely give to your comrades. I’ve already offered my home—”

“No, no. I understand, Dar. If you think it’s within my means, I’ll gladly get Lesh a source for cultivation. He doesn’t have to have an Energy heart.”

Dar rubbed his chin and nodded. “Actually, there is a way for you to accomplish just that. Yes, that would be better than creating more debt between you or your companions and me. I was saving this news until after I’d taught you your new cultivation technique, but I suppose it’s something we can discuss now. Yes, perhaps that’s best—we’ll speak, I’ll teach you the technique, and then I can leave you to practice.”

“News?” Victor didn’t like Dar’s almost ominous tone.

His mentor shifted, pressing one fist into the stone floor and leaning into it, bringing himself closer to Victor as he replied, “I told you I have some enemies on the council, yes?”

“Yeah.” The question told Victor precisely what this was about; the council wasn’t going to let him off when it came to the three “tasks” he was supposed to perform.

“Well, that faction has made matters a touch difficult for us. Rather than accepting my generous offer to pay the Energy debt in full, restoring the city’s coffers after the repair of the training dungeon, they’ve countered with an offer of their own.” He paused, ensuring he had Victor’s attention, then continued, “They’ve agreed that if I pay for the repairs, they’ll release you from two tasks. They claim the remaining task was already decided upon and that losing you would greatly increase the risk of death for the others involved.”

“Others?”

“Aye. Two others. Do you recall me mentioning a prison dungeon beneath the Sojourn City Council?”

“I do.” Victor nodded, his mind racing with the implications of the question.

“Well, it’s called the Iron Prison because it’s meant to contain iron rankers—nothing higher. It was specifically purchased from the System with that restriction, and there’s no altering that. The council cannot send anyone over level one hundred into that place.”

“So?”

“So, the council has sent quite a few powerful iron rankers into it over the years. Unfortunately, evidence has surfaced indicating that one such individual was unjustly imprisoned, and they want him extracted. The System provides an interface for the dungeon, allowing the council to see who still lives in the dungeon, and they assure me that this man, Rasso Hine, has not been slain.”

Victor groaned and put his elbows on his knees, resting his chin in his palms. “Why am I the only one who can do this? That’s what you’re about to tell me, right?”

Dar chuckled, the sound deep and coarse. “I asked the same. There are restrictions on dungeon entry—one person per hour. In the last few weeks, as they’ve attempted to retrieve Hine, each emissary has been killed within minutes. Apparently, they’ve lost half a dozen promising iron rankers.”

“And this guy, Rasso Hine, is worth all those lives?”

Dar nodded, his eyes dimming from their usual hot glow. “The council believes the information he holds is that valuable, aye. I tend to agree with them after hearing the details of the case.” Before Victor could ask, he held up the hand he wasn’t leaning on, forestalling his question. “I cannot share those details.”

Victor wanted to growl in frustration, but he settled for narrowing his eyes in a half scowl. “If I have to go in alone, what’s the deal with the two others you mentioned?”

“One is a Death Caster. You know her—Arona Moonshadow, the one from the challenge dungeon who outsmarted you.” Victor wanted to object, but he’d reflected plenty on that dungeon challenge and had to agree—he hadn’t exactly acted cleverly. Dar continued, “They want her to accompany you because she’s one of the top Death Casters still in the iron ranks, and the dungeon is death-attuned. The other is Arcus Volpuré, another friend of yours from the challenge dungeon.”

“Why is that name so familiar? I mean, I feel like I’ve heard it since the dungeon.”

“He’s an incredibly powerful Elementalist, and his master is Lord Roil, one of the Consuls. There’s little love lost between Roil and me, if you’ll recall the inquest. He claims to want Arcus to accompany you and Arona because his fire magic will be a potent aid, but I suspect he intends to betray and kill you.”

“Lord Roil was the guy in the black robes hiding his face with smoke, right?”

“Aye, though the smoke is a part of him, not a disguise; he’s partially taken the aspect of an elemental.”

Victor thought about that, about how powerful Dar was and about how he walked on eggshells around Roil. Was this the sort of enemy he wanted? “So, they want me to go in first and clear the entrance so the other two can come in safely.” Victor smiled grimly as Dar nodded. “Then we’re supposed to find this dude, Rasso, and get him out? How’s that work?”

“You’ll be given an attuned recall item that will function on yourself and one other. Arona and Arcus will also have such an item. Because they’re attuned, no one else can use them to escape.” Dar shifted to his other fist, pressing it into the stone floor as he leaned the other way.

“And Arcus? Am I going to get in trouble if I kill that asshole?”

“As long as you don’t start the conflict, I can shield you from Roil’s temper. I believe you can count on the Moonshadow girl to be a neutral party. I know her master, Vesavo Bonewhisper, quite well. He’s a cruel man but honest. We’ve been aligned politically in the past, and I know he has no love for Roil.”

Victor groaned again, dreading the answer to his next question. “When?”

Dar nodded, grinning widely, “The day after your dinner party. They wanted quicker action, but I explained that you were hosting an event at my house and that several of their pupils were invited, including Arona and Arcus.”

“Ah, shit. That’s where I heard that name. Lam was talking about him or . . . was it his sister?” Victor shook his head. “Whatever. So, I have a few days before I get sent into a meat grinder?”

“That’s right. Rasso has been in the dungeon for more than a decade—a few more days shouldn’t hurt. I thought to argue about this task, to claim it was unjust and that it was a clear conspiracy to rid me of a promising protégé, but then I thought about you and how you tend to rise to challenges. I’ve decided to treat this as an opportunity in disguise. I managed to squeeze some additional promises out of the council. If you succeed in this task, there will be additional compensation.”

Victor grinned, matching his mentor’s expression. “That’s where you think I can get Lesh’s cultivation item.”

“Precisely. I won’t be very surprised if you also gain some valuable treasures from the dungeon. Some of the criminals still lurking within are sure to have amassed rewards from the denizens, and they’ll also be worth significant Energy infusions.”

“I can kill the prisoners?”

“I would hope so; they’ll surely try to kill you! No soft men or women could survive in that vile place. It will be a good challenge.” Dar chuckled and straightened up. “Now, let’s talk about cultivation. First,” he stood and scooped up Victor’s cultivation items, “place the items around you in a loose circle. Because you’ve built your chamber to contain and gather Energy, you can put them near the wall. As they emit Energy, the tiles will contain and condense it. Moreover, as you cycle the Energy—in a way I will teach you—the shape of this chamber will help you focus it on yourself.”

“Shouldn’t I have built a door to cover the tunnel opening?”

“In an ideal world, yes, a sealed cultivation chamber is best. You’ll only be here a few months, though, and this is not your primary means of advancement, so I cut a few corners. The chamber will still contain most of the Energy emitted from your treasures.”

“Oh, will I leave them here?”

“While you’re here on Sojourn, yes! That way, the Energy will gather while you're gone, making your next cultivation session more fruitful.” As Dar spoke, Victor nodded along, but all the while, he couldn’t help but imagine how his “vault” container would make a perfect cultivation chamber. Victor tried to pay attention to Dar’s lesson, picturing the flows of Energy and how he was supposed to weave them together as he drew them into his pathways. He told Victor it would be challenging to weave more than two differently-attuned Energies as he cultivated, but practice would make it easier. He was confident that Victor could eventually pull all five, including the magma he’d send into his breath Core.

The problem was that Victor felt distracted. Just as he’d been learning to let go of the things he couldn’t control, Dar had thrown another at him. He was literally going to step into a trap that had killed a “handful” of promising iron-rankers ahead of him. Was Dar that confident in him, or did he simply not value Victor as more than an amusement? It was the same question he’d had about the duels on his Ruhn—did Dar really think he could win against people well above level one hundred?

“You’re not listening, Victor,” Dar growled. “I have men and women scheming and killing for an hour of my time, and you sit there daydreaming while I explain the fundamentals of cultivation?” His eyes had taken on the dangerous gleam Victor had only seen a couple of times, and it brought his mind back into focus.

“Sorry, Lord Dar. I keep thinking about the trap waiting for me as I step into that prison.”

Dar nodded and sat down in front of him again. “This is why I think you must continue to cultivate, despite your ability to strengthen your Core through the consumption of hearts. When you cultivate, Victor, you must face all facets of your spirit Core. You must confront your fear, your rage, your glory, and even your inspiration to understand how they rule your spirit. You must master them. The fear, though, that’s the biggest challenge for you. You mask it well, usually using your rage, but it runs amok in your mind.” He reached out and—almost gently—punched Victor’s knee. “Come, pay attention. Using this new drill, you’ll learn to master your fear.”