Chapter 179 – The Golden Tower

Mirian woke, feeling more relaxed than she had for a long time. The elements had ravaged her body last cycle, and so it was nice to feel warm, for the air not to burn as she breathed it. Even the water dripping down from the ceiling felt nice in comparison. She lay in bed just a bit longer, the mediocre mattress feeling like a queen’s bed in comparison to the jagged rocks she’d been putting her sleeping roll on top of.

Eventually, she sighed and threw off the covers, then fixed the hole in the ceiling.

Lily woke to the noise of her moving about, then stared at her. “Mirian?” she said, slightly alarmed.

“What?” Mirian asked. She hadn’t done anything alarming yet!

“Your eyes,” she said. “They’re… different.”

Mirian looked at her. Then, resigned to having to explain all this stuff again to her roommate, conjured her soulbound spellbook (Lily let out a yelp at this) and cast a mirror spell. She tilted her head back and forth as she examined herself. Lily was right. Her eyes had been a dull gray, but now they were more like silver. They had a subtle shine to them, as if something deep within them were glowing.

My soul, she realized.

She embraced the titan-catalyst and saw the great gyre of her soul spinning, shining. The change was dramatic. Her aura was rapidly expanding, more so than it usually did. And, if she wasn’t mistaken, she was having an effect on the nearby ambient mana. Am I absorbing it? she thought in amazement. She would have to do more testing to be sure, but it seemed like it.

Her stomach grumbled. As was now usual at the start of the cycle, she was absolutely ravenous.

“I’ll tell you what’s going on over breakfast,” Mirian said.

***

That cycle, Mirian brought the Labyrinth artifacts back to Torrviol. She did the trick with the glider again, using the prevailing winds to rush her back to town while Beatrice and her crew traveled by foot. Meanwhile, Jei prepared the groundwork for their research efforts.

They tested the Labyrinth artifacts by the Divine Monument, running into failure after failure. When Torres managed to get one of the devices to respond near the Monument, there was jubilation—but it quickly turned sober when there was no measurable effect they could discern.

Professor Seneca and Professor Endresen stayed up late with their teams, doing all sorts of experiments on the new elements. While Seneca focused on the chemical properties and reactions, Endresen tried to find specific effects on arcane physics. There was no doubt in Mirian’s mind they were making incredible discoveries—but simply expanding their knowledge of physics was insufficient.

Mirian developed a new style of handwriting, working to cram in as many diagrams and as much text as was feasible in her spellbound book. Clearing the pages was an annoying process that involved using several celestial runes and a binding in conjunction with high-grade soul energy, but once scoured, she could reuse Holy Pages. She managed to condense ten pages of notes down to five, then filled four more with the chemistry and physics notes.

Meanwhile, Mirian used Nicolus, Valen, and Professor Marva to create and monitor a network of informants, as well as the priests in town to look for any soul-disguises. Mirian had taken care of the spies, but that wasn’t what she was really worried about. If there were other time travelers scouting her out, she wanted to know. Mirian had found a place deep in the Torrviol Underground, and slept there at nights, protected by layers of arcane and celestial wards.

Her attention turned back to Akana Praediar. It was time to return.

She interrogated the imprisoned spies. Spies like Idras had little pieces of useful information here and there. Diehards like Nathanial still told her little. Even when she faked breaking him out of prison while disguised as Specter, he was tight-lipped.

More importantly, she and Nicolus had reestablished contact with his Uncle Alexus, which had reminded Mirian that Alexus had attended a party at the start of the month that had included Sylvester Aurum.

Sylvester Aurum. The richest man in the world. The very same one Prime Minister Kinsman had demonized in his speech.

The gala was on the 5th. Mirian would have to depart Torrviol immediately, and rush the paper forgeries. Nurea would be useful for that last part, since she already had Syndicate contacts in Cairnmouth. And Nicolus would be useful for establishing contact with his uncle.

After that, she’d hunt down Westerun.

***

Alexus Sacristar was nothing like his brother. He had none of the regal posture or serious demeanor. Instead, he had thinning hair and a jovial tone. He liked to shake hands, smile, and tell risque jokes that weren’t actually funny.

“Sire Nurea! So good to see you, how’re the folks? And Nicolus, ah, look at that muscle! Still can’t believe you’re all grown. How much for the hair?” he asked, ruffling Nicolus’s. “And, uh… Mirian, was it?”

Nurea glared at him, serious as a grave. “Did you get us in?” They’d sent a zephyr falcon ahead with instructions for Alexus to find a way to get all three of them into the gala.

“The two of you, yes. Ah, the thing about it is, the Akanan Foreign Affairs folks actually do know quite a bit about Persaman nobility, so they didn’t quite buy your little concocted story. I passed it off as me falling for a scam so I didn’t get us all banned for stepping on Lord Saiyal’s edaeza on the northeastern province.” He paused. “Do you know what that is?”

“Land claim?” Mirian asked.

“Ah. No. I mean, that’s the literal translation, but it’s rights to govern the land semi-autonomously as long as tribute’s paid to the central government. Edaez rights are traced back through family ties to the governor position or holy titles of nobility granted during the Triarchy. Of course, there is no central Persaman government anymore, but the warlords are using the edaeza system to give their fiefdoms a bit more legitimacy. Oh, don’t call Saiyal or any of his buddies warlords or you’ll be very unwelcome at any future high-society event.” He said this all very quickly, then broke into a smile again. “You’ll need another way to get in.”

Nurea scowled. “But the entire point of—”

Mirian cut her off. “I’ll find a way.”

“You brought actual clothes, I hope?”

Mirian had bought an absurdly overpriced dress from a shop in Cairnmouth, so she nodded. Nicolus and Nurea had their own fancy outfits from before the cycle.