House Ariloch was a raging party that was so loud Declan couldn’t hear himself think. It had been that way since the messenger returned and house members checked their balance. Even split among all of them, a single Storm Charge had brough enough rin that Declan could have bought a rune.

  Except he now had a different problem.

  He’d handled three different ones for quick evaluations and they burned. Now he wore leather gloves Roland had procurred in minutes the day he evaulated House Perth’s. Harris, the poor man’s house had sinned against god and man, or lost the cosmic drawing because every stone they brought was Storm Screech.

  “Doesn’t bother me,” Harris said as he worked with his awl. “I’m the helpful, loving, kind house arcanist who saved them a shard by knowing all the right people. Yes! Another one that didn’t explode! That’s three! I’ll be able to forge impure ones soon and transfer naturals to better materials.”

  At Declan’s questioning look, Harris held up the ore. “This is the lowest grade ore you can buy. They won’t even smelt it, there’s too much rock. A lot of naturals come through on the same stuff. But if I tranfer it to a higher grade of ore? The rune will grow more powerful. Might not change tier, but there are definitely stronger ones within the same tier. Two Claws might be the difference between scratching you and cutting to the bone.”

  Declan considered the golden notices everywhere. “Assembly. What am I expecting?”

  “Some house lord visiting. Ain’t Harding, or Drevond,” Harris said with a smile. “We go, we listen, we wish we could have been sleeping.”

  The assembly came at what would have been lunch. Declan arrived dressed in Ariloch white and was quickly routed to the section of the audience where instructors and assistants sat. The man who took the stage wasn’t an Ariloch instructor, or anyone Declan recognized. The president quickly introduced him. “Rise for the eyes and ears of the Sun Queen. As she rises, so will we.”

  The whole assembly quickly stood.

  “As she sets, so may you.” The representative scanned the crowd until they’d all sat down. “I’ve come to the academy this week after consulting with the greatest minds available,” he said. “I come as the eyes, ears and mouth of the Sun Queen, may her reign rise forever. I come with news. I come with a request. I come with an expectation that you will answer her call. Arliloch Academy has stood watch over the world wound for generations and well you have served.”

  Applause rose, which struck Declan as strange, clapping for themselves. He clapped for Hayden’s cinamon rolls, but that was common sense, this was pride.

  “The most recent surge heralded a change. The origin was not here, at Ariloch but all over the world. Our artificers have been studying the aftermath, and we believe we understand. We believe we can adapt. We don’t believe we can do it alone. To explain, I give you the Warband, Keel Skinner, instructor emeritus.”

  Skinner hobbled out, his face grim. “For generations, we’ve trained the best arcanists in the world. For generations, we’ve raised the best of those even higher, the ArCore. But this new threat requires more than one group can provide—even one so powerful and talented.”

  There was no clapping this time.

  Declan sat on the edge of his seat.

  “The beasts that spawned have new runes. New abilities. New forms and new threats, and we believe this will continue. Our rune archive will grow in the coming years. Our skills will grow with them and we will take these and use them to protect ourselves, the kingdom, and the world.” Skinner waited, his gaze warning anyone who might dare applaud.

  “We have always trained our ArCore teams to operate in arrows of six. Beginning this week, we will adapt and overcome. Among you are powerful arcanists. You are learners, but you are not children. You already take risks that would make others flee in terror and you reap those rewards. We ask you to take more, receive more, and gain more.”

  The crowd mumbled and roared, growing louder and louder

  Another speaker took over. “Order! Come to order! First, the ArCore is expanding. We’re selecting twenty more to start. These will be hand-chosen by instructors and matched by ability. Do not assume that because you are not a top tier offensive specialist you are not a candidate. We are splitting our teams as well. To provide more coverage, a arrowhead of three offensive warriors will be paired with three defensive or support arcanists. Healers, shielders, empower or afflict, you, too, have a role in this new age.”

  Any hope of order ended as the murmurs became an all out roar that carried on until Skinner summoned a single rune that exploded like a thunderclap before Declan could read it. The explosion made his ears ring.

  “You will not receive the same yearly dispensation of rin or enhancements, but support arcanists for arrows will receive the same favor in permit applications, seed money and materials for. Your service now grants you your choice of life later. This right can be transferred by your choice to your House, should you choose or be forced to simply rest.”

  The first speaker had taken the stand again. “The Academy will not stand alone. Every major house and every crown will be dedicating forces to this new threat. Our Artificers are working on a schedule, one that will gain accuracy with every right forecast and be corrected with every wrong one.” He waited for a moment, savoring silence. “I come to you, as we have in the past, asking that the arcanists do what others cannot. For those who can defend against this new threat, claim its power and protect us. For those who cannot, rise. For those who cannot rise, lift those above you. In the name of the sun queen herself, I bless you. Rise as she does.”

  Arcanists fled the assembly—most of them. Declan found his fellow house arcanists. “What do you think?”

  The look on Roland’s face would curdle milk. “That’s going to really mess with my plans.”

  ###

  The only discussion at night was of the ArCore expansion, the gossip, the bragging, every person claiming they had the strength, the desire, or the talent to join them. Declan for once felt left completely out. He had a plan for it, but that would take time, too. He sat with Hayden and Chen, eating a bowl of chili that was definitely different than stew.

  “Don’t feel bad, we’re safe!” Hayden said. “You know what they don’t want? A battle chef. Chen, you could probably help.”

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  Chen shook his head. “I’d already decided to specialize in enchantment and crystal work. I can raise defences, sure, but I need three days notice and also to know what kind of blazed beasts will spawn and their runes.”

  “What did you buy?” Declan asked Hayden. “I saw the delivery. I don’t know what it is.”

  “My own set of pans. My own knives. A better cooktop. A better oven. All of that is mine and goes with me when I finally land a House job,” Hayden said with a satisfied smile. “I invested in myself.”

  Chen coughed. “Me too. Except nothing as grand. I bought a lot beside my parents in Mazal, one day I’ll build a house there. Declan?”

  Workman lived simple but they lived hard lives. Good lives. It had been an easy decision and he dreaded the letter that would come. “Pop’s a workman, Mom’s a leather seamstress. I bought their work-bonds. Though Pop will probably still go to work. It’s in his soul.” It was twenty years too early by normal timelines, the bond lowering as the workers aged until it was little more than the cost of housing. “He’ll be miserable without the foundry.”

  The rin wouldn’t buy him a rune, not his first rune, though he’d found a loophole that would probably work. One he could exploit. He needed a rule expert to check it because it was so wide he could drive a wagon through it.

  He had to wait until the next day to ask Harris. “What if I borrow a rune and use it to kill a blazed beast?”

  “It’ll have the mark of whoever you borrowed it from,” Harris said. “You’re skipping the solution most arcanists use and searching for the most difficult way. Sure, some of them have a beast held down but haven’t you noticed something? They can all use weapons. Killing the first, especially a tier one, isn’t that big a challenge because arcanists are armed and dangerous before they ever have a rune.”

  “You need a trainer. I know a guy,” Roland said through a mouth full of food. “And you need to have started about five years ago. I don’t know a guy for that.”

  Declan put his head down on the table and tried to avoid being thrown out for murder. “When can we meet? I don’t need to walk into a swarm, I need to kill one beast. One. And right now I need to go see Skinner.”

  That actually did excite him.

  When he arrived, Skinner had cleared the classroom floor and arranged a circle. Declan’s pack lay on the desk, but when Declan reached for it, a cane intercepted him. “Can I have them back?”

  “Yes and no. Yes, you can have the one that’s fully bound and you should keep it with you at all times. No, you’re not allowed to touch the other two. What is the purpose of a mana stone?”

  “To allow a new arcanist to practice without accidentally invoking a rune,” Declan answered.

  “Wrong. Try again.”

  This time, he gave a textbook answer. “To gather mana so an arcanist can empower another rune beyond its base tier.”

  “Wrong, incomplete.”

  “Or channel a rune from their arcsoul.”

  “Wrong.” Skinner turned and prodded Declan’s chest with his cane. “You can’t afford to have your arcsoul opened. I asked as a favor, but we have fifty candidates in line and more coming every day, some ordered by the Crown, one by the Sun Queen herself. That doesn’t mean you can’t use a rune, even without mastering a rune-stone.”

  “How?”

  Instructor Skinner drew a rune-stone from his pocket and handed it to Declan. “You’ve completely mastered one of your ball bearings. Capturing additional rune-stones at the same time is a skill that takes time to develop, which is why I had you leave the others long enough for any bond to drain away. You need to be able to command two. Then you can use one for mana and one to activate.”

  “That’s a tier two arcanist skill. I’m not even tier one.” Declan saw the possibility but he also saw the likelyhood.

  “Then you’re truly not going to my assignment once you succeed. Start with this. Take the bearing you’ve claimed and work on this. Did I see correctly you’re searching for a combat instructor?”

  Declan’s face burned as he realized how Roland had located someone. “Yessir. I need to be able to kill a blazed beast.”

  “If you’re using swords, your runes have failed and even worse, your wits have.”

  He’d caught the old man. “I’m not learning to use a sword. A mace. Maybe a flail.”

  “A shortsword. You want to be effective. You want to learn quickly. You want the simplest weapon with the greatest chance of your survival and their not-survival. You want a shortsword. Your task for today is to go to the Armory and identify three new runes. Practice will grow your skill.”

  “You want me to do it for free?” Declan asked.

  “I never said that. Now go read, or write, or whatever you do when you ignore my suggestions to rest.”

  ###

  Declan didn’t make it to the library. His first stop was the crystal enchanter to buy more used barrels, his second, the security supply for razor wire. To his credit, he didn’t flinch when a messenger in white sprinted up to him, gasping. “Eden Proctor would like to meet you at the armory. She says ‘We had a fucking thief. We have no fucking thief. Fucking, fucking, fucking, you’ll have to repeat that won’t you?’”

  “Got it, and thanks.” Declan headed for the armory, ever more comfortably in his Ariloch white. After all, it had been the house colors long before it was the academy’s. The armory always had a line of people looking to exchange shards, but this time Eden was surrounded by arcanists from House Drevond. She looked like she might murder someone. “Hi. Sorry for the emergency call, but Victor decided he was going to be greedy. Victor decided he would keep runes he was supposed to turn in. Victor deeply, truly regrets his mistake. Would you mind?”

  “Let me get some certification forms,” Declan said, letting himself into the back of the armory to get them. “Also, let’s move to a room so these folks can get work done.”

  The runes were odd in that they combined three base runes, making them technically tier three but the weakest threes he’d ever seen. The earth base was tiny, the wind addon was larger, and the action lines made him think of grinding. “Maybe Swirling Sandstorm?”

  “Really?” Eden said to the group with her. “You’ve been keeping these since the sand drakes? What the hell, Victor?”

  Victor was, as best Declan could tell, the man huddling with his hands over his head. Declan found the runes more interesting than the argument. “This one’s definitely fire, and not a bad fire at all. I’d call it Engulfing Flame, though that’s about a eighty percent guess until Insight activates. The cloud moves with the target, but it’s really vulnerable to air. You’d think water, but look at those lines. It’s not going to hold up to any kind of breeze.”

  Declan tossed the last one back. “Strike, with a flame modifier, probably Burning Strike. Going to take some time with the rune atlas before I’ll sign on any of them but I’m willing, this should have been part of the original set.”

  The crowd had grown angrier with every rune. The first shove was almost gentle. The second kick wasn’t and the cursing rose to shouting as Victor began to scream.

  The world erupted in agony, making half the group fall to the ground and the other half sprint to slam into the wall. Declan could barely keep his eyes open. Eden Proctor had activated a rune that blazed orange and black edges, a shape that defied his attempts to break it down into components. It wasn’t a shape, it was concept. The concept was Pain, he grasped, as it cut off.

  Pain: All around you will suffer, my children. Mana Cost: Extreme, Constant

  Eden’s eyes streamed with tears and she, too, gasped, while a thin trickle of blood came from her mouth. “What have I said about killing someone in public? I can’t ban you, Victor, but when we get back, Piedmont will.”

  Declan held up a hand. “He’s not welcome in House Ariloch. I need a thief like I need a nomination to the ArCore. You kick him out, he’s not coming to me. Period.” Before he’d even taken a step, house-sense acknowledged the directive. The rooms wouldn’t open, the doors, if shut, were barred.

  “Can one of you take him back so Piedmont can make the decision?” Eden asked sweetly.

  Even her housemates rushed to be free of her. “I’m sorry. I told you my arcsoul was defective. I can’t stop the rune from effecting everyone. My dad, he’s…frightening. And he’s just an enforcer for Lord Drevond.”

  “That’s the Drevond soul-rune?” Declan asked.

  “You think a little agony is going to stop anyone serious? The ArCore folks will dance their way through it and cut your head off, no rune needed. Speaking of which…you may want to get some sleep tonight.” Eden said it with the same tone she’d used for having someone kicked out. “You remember Anthony Bon? Guy who shows off three Flicker-Fire Grip runes? Makes me exhausted. First off, he’s so good with swords he doesn’t use runes except as a finishing blow but that’s hardly the worst part. The worst part is, he’s cheery. He said “I can’t wait to start teaching Declan.” She shook her head. “It was nice knowing you.”