Page 22 of Shardless
These visions—premonitions,as she had started thinking of them—used to frighten her, but she had become accustomed to their sudden appearances at this point.
At least… that’s what she was still trying to tell herself.
In the beginning, she had hoped, prayed,pleadedwith whatever might be listening, that she was just going crazy. After all, humans weren’t supposed to have magic. And every time an earth mage came to the island, she had considered going to see him, desperate for this strange power to be nothing more than an affliction.
But she never did. Because if it wasn’t an illness, easily cured with magic and medicine, if she really was seeing some version of the future…
The Sanctorum would not be kind to her. Or anyone stupid enough to try to protect her.
Taly listened closely, straining her ears for signs of movement. It was faint, but she could just make out the sound of measured footsteps as they echoed down the hallway. They came closer and closer, coming to a stop right outside her door. After a moment of hesitation, there was a soft knock.
“Taly?” came Sarina’s gentle voice from behind the door.
Her voice still raspy with sleep, Taly replied, “Yeah. I’m up.”
“I’m leaving your things outside the door. The others aren’t up yet, so take your time. Eliza’s already put on a pot of coffee—it’s downstairs when you’re ready.” With that, she heard Sarina turn and walk back down the hallway towards the stairs.
Stretching, Taly decided it was time to get out of bed. She was just postponing the inevitable at this point, and she had coin to earn. She had finally managed to corner Ivain and Skye the night before to get the details of the job. It was real. And while she knew they were overpaying her, she was desperate enough not to care.
When she went to retrieve her clothing, she wasn’t surprised to see that Sarina had taken it upon herself to make some substitutions—meaning that Taly had a completely new set of gear waiting for her outside her door. Not that she was going to complain. The leggings were a deep royal blue and lined with wool, and the ivory tunic was made of lightweight silk with sleeves that buttoned at her wrists. She had a new jacket too—black, waterproof canvas with a brindle fur trim around the hood.
She dressed quickly, admiring her reflection in the full-length mirror set against the wall as she tightened her belt holster. Even though her old wardrobe didn’t fit her nearly as well as it had only a year ago, she couldn’t help but preen—just a little bit. The coat pulled in at the waist, accentuating what was almost an hourglass figure, and even her hair had chosen to behave this morning, lying flat with only a very slight curl at the end. For the first time in months, her cheekshad color, and the circles under her eyes seemed a little less bruise-like.
“Not bad,” she murmured. It was remarkable how a single night of good food and even better company could transform a person.
Pulling herself away from the mirror, Taly dropped to the floor, groping underneath the bed for the brown parcel she’d hidden there before dinner last night. She really hoped this little project didn’t turn out to be a waste of coin. Eyeing the door warily, she stepped over and turned the lock before settling back onto the bed to unwrap the package. The paper came away easily, revealing two translucent hyaline pistols.
When the first firearms had started coming through the Aion Gate from the mortal realm, the shadow mages didn’t know what to make of them since even the smallest amount of aether could render human gunpowder completely inert. It had taken a few years, but eventually, a particularly industrious crafter managed to mimic the human firing mechanisms using fire crystals.
Unfortunately, the transition wasn’t completely seamless. The smaller handguns that Taly preferred just didn’t have enough room for both a shadow crystal large enough to power the circuit and the necessary focusing crystal required to transform the raw aether drawn from the power source into fire aether. Even under the best circumstances, the shadow crystals completely discharged after only a few shots, making the converted firearms impractical in combat scenarios.
With this new design, however, Taly was hoping to change that. Despite their drawbacks, she had always had a fondness for pistols. Gunsfelt solid, more so than a simple bow. And as a human, if she could avoid getting into close-range with a fey combatant, all the better.
She glanced in the mirror one last time, making sure that the illegal firearms were well hidden beneath the hem of her coat, before setting out.
Taly tiptoed through the house, easily navigating the familiar path out the back door and through the training yard to the workshop, a spacious single-story structure situated at the back edge of the main property.
The door to the shop was a great massive thing, old but sturdy. She hadn’t been able to open it on her own until she was fourteen, and even then, she had trouble. Setting down a steaming cup of coffee she had grabbed on her way through the kitchens, Taly leaned against the door and pushed hard. It groaned in protest but eventually slid to the side. A blast of cold air immediately rushed out of the open doorway, and she shivered as she stepped inside. She took a sip of coffee, relishing the warmth.
The inside of the dusty workshop was a welcoming sight. The forge in the back corner was unlit, so the air inside the main room was unusually crisp. An array of hammers, tongs, and files hung neatly to the side, and she could see the anvil and quench tank tucked into a corner.
She slowly made her way to the back of the room, trailing one hand across the various crystals, quills, and other enchanting tools that had been left strewn across the benches.
Skye’s personal workbench was chaos (nothing new there). Evidently, all the hard work she’d done trying to bring order to his craftingstation had completely disintegrated in her absence. There were random piles of crystals, the odd piece of scrap metal, dirty inkwells, and discarded pieces of crumpled parchment littering every available surface.
In the middle of it all sat a polished longsword. The blade was made of a dull, gray metal that almost seemed to absorb the light around it, and blood-red crystals had been embedded in even intervals along the ornately swirled hilt and cross. Taly ran a finger along one of the gemstones set into the flourished sweepings. The rich color and startling clarity made the fire crystals shine like rubies in the dim light of the workshop.
A cup extended below the sweeping curls of metal encircling the guard, and an intricately carved relief of House Ghislain’s crest, a dragon surrounded by violet tendrils of coiling shadow magic, had been etched into the surface of the metal. Black leather cord enveloped the grip, parting in even intervals to reveal three deep violet shadow crystals.
The artistry of the blade came as no surprise to Taly. Skye had always had a special talent for etchings and carvings. When they were younger, he used to practice by whittling little animals out of wood that he would then present to her whenever she needed cheering up. No, what truly made this sword unique was the row of glittering air crystals embedded along the length of the blade.
Taly remembered when Skye had first shown her the plans for the sword. She thought he was crazy at the time, but it seemed he had gone and done it anyway.
Tucked beneath the weapon, Taly spied a small slip of paper, the edge of what looked like a glamograph. Glamographs were pictures created with aether-infused paper and a glamera—a small device programmed with a simple water enchantment. The humans had created something similar called acamera, undoubtedly copied from the fey device after its inventor had accidentally stumbled through the Aion Gate.
Taly immediately recognized the picture as she pulled it out from beneath the clutter. She had an identical copy hidden away in her room at the tavern. It was from her 18thbirthday, and Skye’s arm was slung around her as they sat on the front steps of the manor, laughing. Though she had been reticent at first, he had convinced her to let him take her into town that night, insisting that he should have the honor of buying her the first beer she would drink as an “adult.” Sarina had made them stop as they were leaving, and they had sat down on the steps, waiting for the older fey noblewoman to return with the glamera. Skye had been telling her some stupid joke, and Sarina had snapped the picture when they weren’t looking.
“I see you found it already,” a voice drawled from behind her.
