Unlocked (First of the Blade Book 3), page 13
“A reasonable description,” he said. “Though perhaps sloppy.” His comment elicited an arched brow from her, and he grinned. “I do believe you aren’t a fan of that term, is that correct?”
“How did you know?”
It was an interesting choice of words, and she couldn’t help but wonder just what the relationship between Benji and the sword masters in the sacred temples might have been.
“I know many things,” he said.
“So if they are the same—”
“I did not say they were the same. I said the connection is similar. The intent is what matters. Much like many things in the world, the intent of what you are doing is what’s important. As you begin to find your way, and as you continue to understand what you see, it’s a matter of recognizing the intent of what you are doing.”
“So are there really only thirteen patterns?”
He cocked his head. “Thirteen? Whoever gave you that idea?”
“There are thirteen sacred patterns to make a sword master,” she said.
Benji frowned. “Perhaps thirteen patterns that work, but there are many more known patterns. Which means—”
“Which means there might be more sacred patterns I could discover?”
He regarded her for a long moment before finally nodding. “It is possible.”
Imogen watched him as he moved his hands and waved his fingers around.
She smiled tightly. “Show me.”
Chapter Thirteen
Imogen’s tiredness this morning was a different kind than what she had been feeling lately. This was exhaustion from staying up for as long as she had, late into the night, as she worked on the different patterns Benji had been willing to teach.
Most of them were patterns she recognized, and it was a matter of associating them with what she had learned and trying to piece together the way they were connected. As they worked, she had felt the change in the air, the growing warmth and humidity suggesting to her that the new day was coming.
She still hadn’t come to understand any new sacred patterns, but she learned something about them she hadn’t before. Benji had shown her two dozen different ones. There were ten she thought she could piece together with the sacred patterns, but that left the others disconnected. That didn’t mean she couldn’t find a way to use them—it just meant it hadn’t been done yet.
Imogen got to her feet and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Jorend made his way toward her, a worried look on his face.
“What is it?” she asked as he approached.
“I watched you last night. I saw you working with the Porapeth.” He said it as if he still wasn’t entirely convinced, which concerned Imogen. If he didn’t believe that Benji was a Porapeth, she worried about how he might react and what he might be telling others.
“He was demonstrating some of his patterns,” she said.
“Does he think to make you a Porapeth?”
She frowned. “I’m not exactly sure that’s how it works. He was demonstrating patterns so I might better understand the sacred patterns.”
He reached for his sword and ran his finger along the hilt of the blade, tracing the notches he had. “Do the Porapeth patterns make a difference?”
“I don’t know yet,” she said. “According to him, all of these patterns are connected, and they all work in a similar way to tap into the magic in the world.”
“You do hear what you’re saying, don’t you?”
“I do.”
She looked at her own blade for a moment, staring at the notches that had once signified her skill with the sword but now seemed to signal something else. She wasn’t sure what that was. Perhaps an understanding of something greater than what she had believed before.
“We have fought our people’s connection to something greater for as long as I have known,” she said, looking up at him. “But perhaps that’s been a mistake. The Koral shamans aren’t our enemy, and I can’t help but question the role of the Porapeth and the connection to the Leier—and the sacred temples. We have long been guided by the Porapeth. What if they have guided us in that as well?”
She didn’t know, but after spending time training with Benji, she had started to question whether the sacred patterns were something different or if they were simply another way of reaching for magic. At this point, she was still at a loss.
If she could use the patterns Benji taught as if they were different sacred patterns, then she would. Especially if it meant protecting these people. Her people.
“That’s not why I came to you this morning, anyway,” Jorend said. “We have scouts looking ahead of us, and they found something.”
Imogen didn’t care for the way that sounded. “Show me.”
She looked around as she followed Jorend, thinking that perhaps Benji might be somewhere, but he had disappeared. After she’d worked with him through the night, he had ventured off, disappearing into the darkness. She had closed her eyes in hopes of a few moments of sleep, but she didn’t know how much rest Benji needed. It was possible his magic fueled him so he didn’t need any.
She followed Jorend until they reached the edge of the terrace, then headed down the rocky side. He held out his good hand and showed her an enchantment. “I wasn’t eager to take this, but the others were so convinced it worked that I felt as if I needed to.”
“It worked for them,” she said.
“I know it did, which is why I took it.”
He held out his hand again, then slapped it to the ground. “It’s strange how it works. I can feel my hand sticking if I push out through it.”
He pressed his palm down. She could feel the energy probe outward from his hand and work into the stone. He pulled his hand up, and it seemed like it clung to the stone, as if he could not even pull it away.
“Impressive. Did it hurt when they did it?” The idea of placing an enchantment onto a person seemed unpleasant to her.
“It hurt, but pain is not unfamiliar to me.” He continued to descend the rocky terrain, clinging to the stone with the enchantment. “They are down here.”
She followed, but she could feel that either she was going to have to be very careful as she climbed, or she was going to need to have an enchantment placed.
The Koral were busy, though she suspected that any of them would take a break from making their enchantments to help her. She wasn’t sure that she needed an enchantment, though. The sacred patterns would work to hold her to the stone the same way it had before.
Imogen dug her hands into the rock, grabbing tightly, and her feet dangled for a moment. “How are you doing this?” she asked, looking over to him.
“I have to hold on to the stone, then I can find a foothold and use that to anchor myself to the rock. I keep my feet locked in, then I move my hand.”
“That’s what I’m doing.” Only, it wasn’t exactly the same. She climbed in a similar manner, hand over hand, but she paused and focused on Tree Stands in the Forest to try to hold herself in place. It worked, but it was difficult and draining. Not just physically, but draining in a way that reminded her of how the renral attack had affected her.
Imogen finally found a foothold and forced her toes into the rock. She slipped one hand down the surface of the stone, then the other, moving carefully. For most, this descent would not even be possible without enchantments. She had no idea how many of their people would have fallen to their deaths otherwise.
“We’re going to have to enchant our boots,” she said.
“What was that?” Jorend asked.
“Nothing.”
He was already a dozen feet below her, and the wind whipped around, making it difficult for her to hear much of anything. He was doing this with one arm, which impressed her, but it also told her that this shouldn’t be too difficult if they had proper enchantments. If he could do it with how injured he was, then the others could do it as well. She couldn’t help but wonder where Abigail had wanted to guide them and how she intended to influence them. That still wasn’t clear to her.
Imogen continued down the stone, her feet slipping as she probed for a toehold large enough for her to lock her feet in. When she had it, she shifted her hands, moving carefully to ensure she had enough of a grip. The technique required concentration, but surprisingly was not nearly as complicated as she had expected it would be. She managed to hold tightly to the stone.
How was she going to get back up, though? Maybe this had been a mistake. Climbing back up was still part of the journey, at least until they decided to descend.
“It’s not much farther,” he shouted up at her.
She slipped and nearly fell, but she caught herself with her fingertips. She was only a few feet away from him. “How did you find this?”
“I didn’t. The scouts did. Several of them have stayed below to continue searching for other dangers in this direction.” He looked at her as if he was waiting for her to challenge his decision to send scouts. “They’ve been testing these enchantments as they probe along the rock. It has not been easy, but it’s necessary.”
He swept his gaze up, and Imogen glanced the direction he was looking, frowning as she did.
She breathed out heavily and shook her head. “Not easy is an understatement.”
“Anyway, it’s up here.” He crawled along the face of the rock, then disappeared.
“Jorend?” She kept her voice low but didn’t hear a response. She continued to climb until she came across a cave in the spot where Jorend had been.
He had to have gone into the cave, even though she didn’t see where he had disappeared. She tried sliding along the stone to follow him, which was slow going. Maybe it would be better if she had enchantments the same way Jorend and the scouts did. Using her sacred patterns took far more time.
She could head back up, but she was getting tired and the cave provided an opportunity for reprieve. Imogen hated to admit she needed it. She was Leier. Their people were accustomed to climbing mountains, but this was clinging more than anything else.
She crawled into the cave and crouched in its mouth. There was no sign of Jorend. No sign of the scouts.
She turned and looked back out. There was little more than a fog filtering up from the valley; otherwise, the rock face dropped off from here. She could climb back out and shimmy her way back along the rock to reach the upper portion, but she needed to know where Jorend and the others had gone.
“There you are,” Jorend said. His voice came from the depths of the cavern.
Imogen inched forward to get to him. She kept her head down and held on to her sword, listening for more sounds from him or any of the other scouts. When he called her name again, she crept toward his voice.
The shroud of darkness that surrounded her began to part. It was a strange change, especially as it wasn’t because a lantern had been lit or anything else, but it was almost like light was emanating from the walls of the chamber itself.
Imogen breathed in, feeling like Benji as she did. Although she didn’t have his Porapeth magic, she thought she recognized the reasons behind why he sniffed the air.
“Jorend?” she whispered.
“Relax,” he said, approaching from the front. He appeared as if he were glowing, and he flashed a wide smile. “I thought it would be better if you saw it for yourself.” He studied her face and frowned. “I’m sorry. I should have explained where I was going. You’re right, General. My apologies.”
He bowed his head, but Imogen looked away from him. Staring in the cave, she tried to make out whether there were any shapes or movement in the darkness, but she could not see anything.
“You said you’ve been looking for someplace that would offer a measure of safety for our people,” she said. “This is it, isn’t it?”
It would be a place they could regroup, where they could train and prepare for other dangers. She needed the Leier to understand what they might be able to do. And her people—all of the people—were exhausted.
“The scouts have been exploring the depths of the cave, but I haven’t been able to find anything. We think it’s empty.”
“What about the light?” she asked. She wasn’t sure if he could see it, and part of her worried it was some sort of magic. If so, she would have to go and explore.
“That light is everywhere. We’re still trying to find the source of it,” he said.
Relief swept through her that he could see it too, and then she processed his comment.
“You’re working on it?” she said, brow arched.
“Traveling to the city will be dangerous. We’re going to need to scout our way. I didn’t say we had all the answers, General. I was just telling you that we found a place.”
She smiled at him. “It is a worthy place.” But she hesitated before saying anything more. She had to be careful—she needed Jorend and didn’t want to upset him. “I’m afraid this isn’t where we need to end up.”
“It might not be, but it’s a place where we can keep the people safe while others explore the valley to learn why you weren’t supposed to take that path.”
It dawned on her what he was getting at. He was concerned about Abigail the Lost.
So was she, for that matter. She didn’t know what Abigail might do, and feared that now that they had left the path, something might happen. Even if Benji couldn’t see it, Imogen wanted to be ready.
“Will it work?” he asked. A hint of concern entered his voice. Maybe he was worried about whether this was the right plan.
The cavern was certainly large enough. As she made her way deeper, the walls arched overhead, forming an enormous chamber. It would be wide enough to hold the people. But they would also be trapped. She swept her gaze around, looking for the source of that glowing light, but she didn’t see anything. The air hung with dampness, another problematic feature of this cave.
“We have to make sure there aren’t any other entrances or exits and that there aren’t creatures here.”
“What creatures could make their way along the wall like that?” he said.
“I don’t really know. Given some of the things we have seen, I think we need to be careful—and prepared for the possibility that there might be something just as awful as the renral.”
If Abigail had tried to push them in a specific direction, then Imogen could imagine how the Porapeth would try to guide them to a place that would be difficult to escape from. Still, Imogen had been the one who’d left the path, which was important to remember. She wasn’t sure exactly what Abigail wanted from them, other than to agitate Benji—which had been successful—but Imogen needed to be careful.
“We should explore and see if there is anything else in the cave,” she said.
Jorend nodded, recognizing the command.
“Then maybe we can move the people in here. That is, if they have enough enchantments to do it.”
“Everybody else has accepted the enchantment, General.”
The implication was clear. Everybody but her.
She hadn’t realized that everyone had already been enchanted. She was the only one who had not? The Koral would certainly be willing to accept an enchantment. But all the Leier…
That surprised her.
Climbing the way she had and forcing herself to use the sacred patterns would be difficult to rely on long term.
“I will take the enchantment,” she said.
He shook his head. “That’s not what I was trying to say. I was trying to—”
Imogen smiled. “You’re right. If we are going to climb down the rock and explore the valley, I can’t be the one who slips.”
The descent had been difficult but not impossible. Still, if she was going to rely on her sacred patterns, she would have to maintain far more focus than she would if she could simply use the enchantments.
They swept through the cavern together. Imogen looked at the walls, trying to understand the strange glow coming from everywhere. It seemed to emanate from the stone itself, almost as if an enchantment had been placed, but she didn’t see any signs of markings on the wall.
“How did the scouts find it?” she asked.
“Like all great discoveries—by accident. They were climbing down the rock. Somebody almost fell, and they came across it.” He looked over to her. “When they reached it, they thought it a blessing from the heavens, as if the gods graced us with this.”
Perhaps believing the gods had been responsible for providing this place of safety was for the best. Imogen wasn’t exactly convinced that was the case, but she would be willing to consider it.
They couldn’t stay up on the upper terraces. The renral would still pose a danger, and until the people made it to safety, they had to worry about being attacked.
Having a place like this while they scouted the valley would also pose other benefits. They didn’t know what they might find as they continued their descent. What other dangers might Abigail have for them?
“Seeing as how you have the enchantment, I will let you climb to the others and bring them down,” she told Jorend. “I will explore, find the scouts, and wait.”
He nodded and made his way toward the mouth of the cave. Imogen took that moment to look around her. Jorend had said that some of the scouts had remained, but she hadn’t seen them. How deep did this network of caves go? The Leier had experience exploring caves so she wasn’t concerned about them getting lost or disappearing while venturing inside, but she also didn’t know how far they might have gone.
As she worked her way through, she wondered if there might be another way for her to find answers. There was that strange glow, which she had to try to understand, and she didn’t think she could by simply exploring. There was another way, though.
The sacred patterns wouldn’t work for her nearly as well as how Benji could sniff the air and speak to it, or how he could talk to the stone, but they did provide a different kind of answer.
Imogen unsheathed her sword, held it in both hands, and meditated. She started with Tree Stands in the Forest, the foundational pattern that was a pivotal part of everything else she did. She built the base, spreading the roots below her and the branches overhead. From there, Petals on the Wind began to circle around it and add to the pattern. She shifted into Stream through the Trees, Waterfall Cascading down the Rocks, and Axe Falling. All of them augmented the original and became tied to Tree Stands in the Forest. Even Lightning Strikes in a Storm was linked to it, though not in a way she’d ever believed when she was younger and still trying to learn the sacred patterns. At the time, Imogen had thought they were each separate, but now that she understood how the patterns worked together, she recognized that Lightning Strikes in a Storm built on Tree Stands in the Forest. For that matter, Petals on the Wind branched off from that as well.
