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That smooth, empty expression of his regarded her. “Summoning your forgings earlier was clearly uncomfortable for you. How has that progressed? Has it gotten easier?”

She hesitated, and a flicker of understanding glinted in his eyes.

“I see,” he said. “That isn’t surprising.”

“Not surprising?” Iryana repeated. If he had some way of knowing what was normal in this situation, perhaps he would know how to help her.

“My sect does have some accounts…” the Scholar trailed off, face betraying nothing.

Iryana wanted to shake him.

“For the love of the gods,” Gyerhna grit out, dropping her head into her hands. “Are you going to deign to enlighten us?”

“I told you it was a mistake to bring him,” Kresik grumbled, wagging his finger at the woman.

Scholar Alar offered them a bland smile. “Grand Keepers, I would like access to the full library at Lake Vrasho.”

Iryana’s eyes rounded. The Scholar had an ultimatum to help her? To share what he knew? She looked to the Grand Keepers, desperately hoping they acquiesced. She had nothing to offer the Scholar for his information if he was not prepared to give it willingly.

Kresik scoffed, “You mean the floors for the followers of air only? Impossible.”

The Scholar just chuckled. “You say this is a cross-sect problem. You want me to collaborate with you, to share the knowledge of the Keepers of Noshtiz with you. Yet you won’t share yours with me? A cross-sect problem requires a cross-sect solution, does it not?”

It looked like the older man was going to refuse again, and Iryana braced for crushing disappointment. To drop to her knees and beg.

“I will allow it,” Grand Keeper Gyerhna declared, staring at her counterpart until he finally barked his agreement.

Iryana sagged in relief.

“Very good,” the Scholar mumbled, as if it hardly concerned him. Then he turned back to Iryana.

“When you don’t use the forgings, is the magic still at odds?”

“It’s uncomfortable. I’m more tired; I feel sick occasionally. And it’s only gotten worse.” She placed her hands against her core, where it felt like her magic coiled painfully still. “Using the forgings, either one, has gotten harder to recover from.”

He made a small noise, still pacing.

“Tell me everything you recall about the water forging,” he ordered. So, she did. Like her life depended on it. He asked her question after question about her forging, the tattooing experience, what it was like every time she used the magic. Things that seemed too minute and mundane, but she answered anyway, with as much detail as she could.

Eventually the Scholar grew quiet, contemplative.

“There was a period in history where my sect actively tried to produce a dual-forged.” He ignored the glares of the Grand Keepers. “It isn’t talked about much, as it was a failure. But we do have detailed records of when and the manner in which it killed the Istrins. It was observed quite closely. Interestingly, the patterns are very similar to those who don’t survive a first forging.”

Iryana frowned at that. It was rare for Istrins to die during their forging, but it did happen. She’d usually heard it attributed to knowing too much about the process beforehand, trying to take on too much well magic, or fighting it. None of which seemed particularly similar to her case.

“When those first forgings fail, the magic from the well doesn’t properly bond,” he continued. “The body doesn’t accept it or it is incompatible in some way. The magic… thrashes. Fights back. And it kills them.”

“That’s encouraging…” she mumbled, feeling a bit lightheaded by all the talk of death. The worry that had haunted her ever since her magic had started to fight her.

He ignored her. “When you try to bond with a new god’s magic, it not only weakens the old bond and unsettles that magic, but it doesn’t provide a strong foundation for the new bond. We see the magics fight back in the same way, against each other. And the human is mere collateral.”

He halted, his stillness disarming.

“This is what those earlier Scholars had determined was the problem with a second forging, as we understand it. The magic is in opposition and not in harmony.” He started pacing, as if working out the details. “Your forgings are painful to use, and the new magic isn’t settling in with the old properly.”

“So, it will continue to get worse?”

“I would imagine that unless they find harmony, yes. Your case appears to be more of a… slowed version of what usually happens. The magics are trying harder to find a balance with each other. The bonds are more secure than I’d expect. But it’s not enough, and if nothing changes, you will meet the fate of all the others. Just much more slowly.”