Part 29 (1/2)

I'm not sure, she admitted. It felt full the entire time you had the mask on, as though it wasn't draining at all. But as soon as the mask fell off, it went straight to empty.

Indirial knelt over by the wall, covering his hand in the corner of his cloak and gingerly picking up the mask without ever touching the metal with his hand.

Simon didn't think he had the strength to turn his head, but he heard the rustle of cloth next to his ear. Then a rasping voice spoke from above him.

”What happened here?” the Eldest asked. He leaned over Simon's body for a better look, his dark hood peering into Simon's eyes.

”What do you know about this?” Indirial demanded. He raised the mask up for the Nye's inspection, still not touching it with his skin.

”An artifact of Ragnarus, captured in battle from a defeated foe. It meets the requirements to become part of Valinhall.”

”It's from Ragnarus!” Indirial said. ”It can't be safe. Look what it did to Simon.”

The Eldest's hood snapped up to regard Indirial. ”I would have thought that, of all people, you would not be squeamish about using the power of the Crimson Vault. You should know that nothing in Ragnarus is less than a powerful weapon. If you mean to stop the Incarnation, I should think that you would relish every weapon you can get your hands on.”

Without responding, Indirial strode over to Simon and reached down, holding up Simon's limp arm. ”And what about this?” the Overlord asked.

At first, Simon thought he meant the fact that he couldn't move after only seconds using the mask. That was Simon's main concern, certainly. Then Simon looked at his arm.

It was covered by a design like black chains. The chains twisted all the way up his arms.

He hadn't noticed before, because of the icy chill of the mask's power and his subsequent collapse, but he could feel the chains crawling past his shoulder blades and onto his back, binding his ribs in what felt like cold steel.

Maker above, he thought.

”This is what happens when he only has the mask on for a few seconds,” Indirial said. ”What happens if he tries to fight Valin in it?”

”I'm not convinced you should be fighting Valin at all,” the Eldest rasped. ”Besides, if you are so concerned for the boy's welfare, then you can wear the mask. I do not care.”

Olissa came rus.h.i.+ng into the workshop then. ”I shouted down that trap door until I was hoa.r.s.e. I don't know what you expected to happen, but*”

Then she noticed the scene: Indirial, kneeling next to Simon, holding up his chain-wrapped arm for emphasis. The Eldest Nye, standing over them both, turning his hood to regard her as she walked into the door.

Simon could only see the whole picture out of the corner of his eye, but he had to admit: it made for a strange situation.

”Eldest!” Olissa said, sounding surprised. ”You're here!”

”I knew where I was needed,” the Eldest responded, turning back to Indirial. ”Why did you need me, son of Aleias? My master may call for me at any moment, and I must be ready.”

Indirial stood, standing face-to-face with the Eldest. He rose head and shoulders above the Nye, but the Eldest certainly didn't back down.

”Why did you bring her here?” Indirial asked. ”Why open this room up at all?”

”I use what resources I am given. When I see someone so rich in imagination, in potential, I must have her working for the House. That is all. What she creates? That is no concern of mine. This mask is nothing. She is the real treasure.”

Simon couldn't see Olissa's face, but she was probably wondering whether to be flattered or creeped out. That was how Simon would have felt, at least.

”We will not take the mask,” Indirial said. ”You will not bind us as you bound Valin.”

The Eldest spread his arms wide, his sleeves drooping down to the floor. ”You wound me, son of Aleias. Even if you wished to take the mask from here, it would not function for you outside of the Territory. It is not yet attuned.”

Indirial stared, obviously considering that.

Simon, feeling strength return to his limbs, struggled up to a sitting position, propping himself up against the wall.

”What...” he began, but his voice trailed off and he had to swallow. Both Indirial and the Eldest looked at him. ”What would it take? To do this 'attuning' thing.”

Indirial ran a hand through his hair, not looking at Simon. ”We can't use this, Simon. We can't. It's too great a risk. Instead of beating Valin, we could actually make him stronger.”

The Eldest ignored Indirial, rubbing his sleeves together, his hood turned toward Simon. ”I, or someone like me, would have to bind the mask to a specific room, and a specific challenge. Anyone with enough ties to the House could attune an artifact, if the artifact meets the correct requirements. If they did so, then you would be able to summon it in the outside world.”

”Do it,” Simon said, but Indirial immediately s.n.a.t.c.hed the mask away.

”I know what it looked like, Simon,” he said, ”but this is exactly the kind of thing that snared Valin in the first place. We can't afford the risk.”

The Eldest shrugged. ”It does not matter.”

Both Travelers looked at him.

”It does not matter,” he said again. ”I will not do it.”

”What? Why not?”

”For me, there is no gain,” the Eldest said, in his grating almost-whisper. ”If you can summon the mask, you will challenge the Valinhall Incarnation. You will likely die, and my investment in you will be wasted. Or else you will kill Valin, and still I have nothing to show for it.”

The Eldest Nye turned his back and glided from the room.

”So no, son of Kalman. I will not do this thing. Be at ease, Overlord.”

The Nye vanished.

”Excuse me,” Olissa said, ”but I made it. I think I should get to say something about*”

Something seemed to hit her, and she stopped in mid-sentence. Almost comically slow, she rotated her neck to look at Indirial.

In a small voice, she said, ”Overlord?”

Indirial kept looking at the mask, answering in an absent voice, ”Hm? Oh, yes. Indirial, son of Aleias, Overlord of the realm of Cana, subject to the authority of His Majesty Zakareth the Sixth, the Morning and Evening star, and so on, and so forth.”

From the small smile quirking up the corner of Indirial's mouth, Simon didn't think he was quite as casual as he pretended.

Olissa looked like she was about to faint. Hastily she pulled the goggles from her hair and tossed her pin down, smoothing the front of her dress.

”I didn't...I mean, I thought...” She glanced around, looking for answers, but soon decided to just go to her knees in a deep bow.

”How may I serve you, my lord?” she asked.

Indirial looked vaguely uncomfortable. ”Get up, woman. Seriously, get up. I never can get used to that.”