Verigenesis: Bounty (Rifthunters Book 1), page 37
“Do not be afraid. You shall be reunited with your companion soon.”
Purple fire leaked from the Lord Protector’s fingers, coursing down into Nate’s flesh like it had Ellie’s moments earlier.
Nate didn’t resist; he deserved this fate. “I’m sorry, Ellie,” he said, closing his eyes. “The Judge was wrong about me; I’m no hero.”
The coldness of the flames suddenly faltered. Nate’s eyes shot open, widening when he realized that the alien essence coating him had vanished. The purple fire behind the Lord Protector’s gaze dimmed, his face contorting. What’s happening? Are…are those tears I see in his eyes?
“Forgive me,” the Lord Protector whispered, raising his other hand.
Then destructive energy vibrated through Nate’s entire being and tore him apart into oblivion.
Chapter 44
Darkness. A sense of nothingness, stretching in all directions forever. Nate could feel himself slipping away, diffusing throughout the enveloping Null. The thought made him shiver, his entire body suddenly freezing as he struggled to breathe.
A voice called to him from far away, but he couldn’t make out the words. Ellie, is that you? Nate tried to swim through the Null to find her, but he couldn’t move.
He remembered her agonized contortions as the purple fire consumed her. The Lord Protector had sloughed her head from her shoulders with casual indifference, like he was pruning leaves off a tree.
I need to save her. Except…that wasn’t quite right. It was too late to save her from her fate. Nate had already failed. Yet shouldn’t she be here, wherever here was?
A soft warmth enveloped him, a light to fill the darkness. He heard someone near him shouting. “He’s going into shock! Null take me, his soul is splintered. Find me a heatweaver for Source’s sake!”
Nate ignored whoever it was until the voice faded; they weren’t Ellie
It was difficult to focus on anything but the numbing cold. Had the void madness come to claim his sanity just as it had the Lord Protector’s? The Immortal’s manic face flashed before Nate’s eyes, grinning as violet flames burned behind his irises.
Gradually, Nate’s addled mind registered that he was no longer in that space between life and death. He lay on the cool stone of the Ward, just as he had earlier that day. This time had been different though: longer, more…painful. Like the Null hadn’t wanted to let him go.
How long have I been here? Before, he’d always awoken immediately upon arrival. There had been almost no break in time between his death and his rebirth. But this time felt far more jumbled in his head.
Perhaps that’s what he got for dying twice so close together. He opened his eyes and squinted. Even the diffuse blue light of the Ward seemed blinding to him right now.
His cubicle was the same bare stone it always was. Someone had draped a blanket over him, but the thin material did little to stop his shivering. He focused on his essence, trying to modulate his body’s temperature.
Pain spiked through his skull, and he winced. Apparently, even that minor veristry was too much for him to manage. This was soul sickness on steroids.
Nate heard hurried footsteps from the hall outside. Two figures appeared in the doorway to his cubicle.
Leading the way was a woman dressed in the robes of an attendant. Golden veins ran up and down her cheeks. Behind her stood a scowling man with coiling fire instead of hair who smelled faintly of sulfur.
When the attendant saw Nate was awake, she studied him clinically. “Can you talk?”
“Yes.” Nate’s throat felt sore, and his faintly chattering teeth made it difficult to speak.
“Do you remember your name?”
“Nate. Nate Carter.”
“Good. And do you know where you are?”
“Tabula Rasa. In the Ward.” Nate kept his answers short; it was all he had the energy for.
“Good. Do you remember what happened to you?”
Nate hesitated. He didn’t want to go into any details here with these strangers. “Died. In an anomaly.” It was close enough to the truth, at least.
Thankfully, the attendant didn’t press him for more details. “What of other recent memories? Do you remember the events leading up to your death?”
With each question the attendant asked, the scowl on the man behind her deepened. Finally, he snapped, “I don’t mean to be rude, but I have many important places to be that are not here. Can we get on with this?”
“Of course,” the attendant said. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. This man is—”
“I can see what he is, or rather what he is not. His body has temporarily lost its ability to generate heat, likely because of his—I presume traumatic—death. Now move so I can warm him up and get on with my day.”
Practically shoving the bowing attendant aside, the heatweaver leaned over Nate. He could feel the warmth the man gave off like a balm on his frigid skin.
The man closed his eyes and pressed a hand to the blanket wrapped around Nate. Heat flowed from the man’s fingers, quickly radiating throughout the cloth.
Nate shivered again, this time in pleasure at the spreading warmth. His body was already beginning to feel more normal. Even so, he could sense the pervading weakness of soul sickness underneath.
It would likely be at least several days, perhaps more, before it left him. If his previous bout of soul sickness had felt like a hangover, this time it was more like a severe case of the flu.
When the blanket started to smolder, the heatweaver grunted and sat back. “That’s as much as I dare put in him, even with his heat affinity. Won’t do much good to stop his chills if I burn him to death. Now, if there’s nothing else…”
The man eyed the attendant expectantly until she nodded at him. She took his place as he rushed from the chamber, pressing a finger to Nate’s neck and closing her eyes. A soft golden glow flowed from her fingertips into his skin, where it vanished with a slight tingle. Nate guessed she was a lifeweaver; most of the attendants in the Ward were.
After a moment, she opened her eyes and smiled. “Your temperature is already stabilizing, Mr. Carter. I think you’ll be just fine. However, your soul has been through a lot recently. I’d recommend taking it easy for at least a week to allow yourself time to recover.”
Nate nodded mutely. Seeing that he wasn’t about to die on her anymore, the attendant told him to summon her if he needed anything else and hurried off. With the hunt for the bounty still underway, no doubt she was busier than normal here.
The bounty… As his body recovered, Nate thought back to the moments preceding his death: the hand cupping his throat; the faint smile on the Lord Protector’s lips; and then the agony of his body literally shattering apart like a porcelain doll.
But there was more too, wasn’t there? He also remembered the mournful look the Lord Protector had given him just before the end, full of regret as he silently wept. Forgive me, he had said. Why hadn’t the Immortal burned him with the same violet essence he’d infused into Ellie?
At least Vince had escaped with the portal stone. Nate just hoped the old man kept his end of the bargain and didn’t run off with the bounty. That was a problem for later though. For now, he needed to find Ellie, and then a hot meal.
It took Nate a few minutes before he felt strong enough to stand, letting the blanket fall away. He quickly donned the soft cotton robes the attendant had left for him before stepping out into the hall. He’d been here often enough that he was used to the Ward’s spiraling layout, branching paths all diverging from the central verifont to form wings with a dozen private alcoves apiece.
Nate checked the nearest rooms, but saw no sign of Ellie. Strange; reclaimed party members would usually all be grouped together, as he and Ellie had been last time. A deep feeling of unease settled in his gut. He moved down the spiraling chamber to the next hall of alcoves: empty as well.
He repeated this process again and again, checking every section of the Ward. Ellie was in none of them. Even odder, not a single attendant could remember seeing her since their previous visit.
Had she somehow escaped the Ward too quickly for them to notice? That shouldn’t have been possible, especially when her soul sickness would’ve hit her at least as hard as it did him. Where the Null is she?
Nate didn’t know how much time had passed before he found himself back at the beginning of the first spiral. A few of the nearby attendants eyed him askance, but none approached.
There was nothing technically against the rules to stop him from remaining here as long as he wasn’t disturbing the other patients. Most people just tended to flee the Ward as soon as they were able, not stay for the grand tour.
He caught the attention of one of the curious attendants, beckoning her over. She smiled politely when she arrived. “How may I help you, Mr. Carter?”
How do they always know our names? Surely they didn’t actually memorize the name and face of every verist in the Nexus.
Nate cleared his throat. “I’m looking for someone. She should’ve resurrected at the same time as me, but I can’t find her.”
The attendant bobbed her head. “Of course, Mr. Carter. Any slain party members should have reconstituted near you. If you check—”
“But that’s just it.” Nate tried to tamp down on his rising panic. “She’s not there. She’s not anywhere. None of the other attendants have seen her either.”
“Perhaps she already left, Mr. Carter. If you like, I can fetch one of the ground stewards. They might be able to assist you better.”
“You’re not listening to me! There’s no way she could’ve snuck out without at least one of you seeing her.”
A sudden thought occurred to him. “But now that you mention it, there is someone else I’d like to talk to. Could you please get the Headmistress for me?”
“I’m…not sure that will be possible, Mr. Carter,” the attendant said hesitantly. “The Headmistress is very busy and—”
“Please,” he begged. “I think something might’ve happened to my friend. It involves the traitor, the Lord Protector.”
That certainly got the attendant’s attention. She motioned for him to keep his voice down, glancing around to see if anyone else was watching them. “Very well. Come with me; I’ll take you to speak with the Headmistress.”
Her previous forced cheer now noticeably absent, the attendant led him up several spiraling ramps to the top of the Ward. As they walked, Nate did his best to stay calm and collected. There had to be a logical explanation for what was happening. If anyone would know what to do, it would be one of the Immortals.
Eventually, they emerged into an inner complex of offices Nate had never seen before. It appeared to be a mix of personal quarters for the attendants and storage rooms for organizing their supplies. They stopped before the last door in the hall, engraved with the Headmistress’ title in a flowing cerulean font.
“Enter,” a voice said from within at the attendant’s hesitant knock.
Nate barely had time to take in a modest office filled with books and scattered stacks of papers before the attendant yanked him into a deep bow.
“My apologies for disturbing you, Headmistress, but Mr. Carter here wishes to speak with you. It…concerns the traitor.”
There was an awkward pause. Nate kept his head bowed. He had never met the Headmistress, but he dared not risk offending an Immortal. Especially not when he needed her help.
Finally, the Headmistress said, “Leave us, Amelie. I shall handle this matter personally.”
“Of course, Headmistress.” The attendant left, shutting the door behind her.
“Rise; you need not bow to me. I am but a humble servant for you and the other verists of Tabula Rasa.”
Cautiously, Nate raised his head to get a better look at her. He had seen the Headmistress around the Ward before; of all the Immortals, she was the one who most often interacted with regular verists. He supposed it made sense, given her position as head of not only the Ward attendants, but of the other stewards and servants within the city as well.
Her smooth face radiated serenity as she regarded Nate with piercing blue eyes. Her robes were barely a step above those worn by the common attendants, dyed the same unassuming brown, and she possessed no manifestations of her veristry that Nate could see or sense.
“Tell me what troubles you, Master Carter, and how it pertains to Bastul: the one you know as the Lord Protector.”
And so he did. Nate hadn’t planned on telling her everything, but once he got started, the story just came pouring out. He told her about finding the Lord Protector’s badge and setting off with Wes and Ellie; about their encounters with Commander Grisham and the Riftwalkers; and finally, about their confrontation with the Lord Protector and his violet essence.
This last part seemed to intrigue her the most. “You are certain this violet energy came from Bastul?”
Nate nodded tiredly; recounting their harrowing adventure had taken a lot out of him, especially the last bits with Wes and Ellie. “Yes. We believe he may have also used it to do something to verabeasts: to enhance them somehow. And Wes confirmed that whatever happened to Ellie also happened to several members of the Riftwalkers, including their leader.”
The Headmistress pursed her lips and tapped her fingers against her desk. “Your story troubles me greatly. That which you describe should not be possible.”
“Because of the Lord Protector’s lack of vera?” Nate asked.
The Headmistress raised an eyebrow. “And what makes you think Bastul does not possess vera?”
“When we confronted him, he relied solely on his basic manipulation of vibrations. It was devastating to fight against, but his lack of an aegis or any prepared weaves tipped us off.”
“I see,” the Headmistress said, leaning back in her chair.
A thought occurred to Nate, and he blurted it out before he could stop himself. “None of you have any vera, do you? The Immortals, I mean. All of your reserves are bone dry.”
The Headmistress hesitated. “I will not discuss the details here at greater length,” she said at last. “And I would ask that you keep your speculations to yourself. Suffice it to say that, while we remain in the Nexus, we are…bereft of our full veristry. Or at least, we should be.”
“You think that the Lord Protector somehow cast a weave using this violet essence?”
“It is what makes the most sense. Yet, as you say, Bastul should lack the vera required for such a feat. Further, what you describe does not match his abilities, even with vera.”
Nate’s frustration boiled over. “So what did he do to Ellie? And how can we fix it?”
The Headmistress’ expression grew somber. “I do not know on either count. This power defies my own knowledge. As for your friend…all we can do now is watch and wait. Mayhap she simply needs more time than normal to reconstitute.”
Despite her words, Nate could tell she didn’t really believe that. This is a dead end. If the Immortals wouldn’t help him, he’d just need to seek answers on his own.
Not knowing what else to do, he nodded numbly and started for the door. Arguing would likely only earn the Headmistress’ ire.
As he placed his hand on the door handle, the Headmistress said, “One last thing. You said that you and your friends hunted Bastul down but could not kill him. What of the portal stone; were you able to recover it?”
“Yeah, we did. One of my associates is returning it to the Patriarch as we speak.”
The Headmistress kept her face carefully blank, but Nate thought he caught her lips tighten briefly into a frown. Why wouldn’t she want the portal stone returned to the Patriarch? Perhaps the Dawnstars were on to something, and there was more happening behind the scenes than the Immortals were willing to admit.
“I…see. Very well; I thank you for your service. If I learn anything to aid you in the search for your friend, I shall inform you at once.”
A few minutes later, Nate found himself aimlessly wandering the halls of the Hub. Ellie was gone. And no one, not even the Headmistress herself, seemed to know where she might be or what might’ve happened to her.
Ellie is gone…and it’s all my fault. If he had just listened to the others, they could have walked out of there together with the portal stone. Instead, he’d led her back to be slaughtered.
Vince had been the only one smart enough to abandon Nate to his idiocy. But Ellie had trusted him. Ellie had stood by him, no doubt expecting to die. And die she had. Just not in the way any of them had anticipated. So much for her second chance at life.
Nate had no idea how long he spent in the Hub. When he tired of walking, he found a bench in the central courtyard and sat there, staring blankly past the endless trickle of people departing.
Someone cleared their throat nearby, and it took Nate a moment to realize that another figure had taken a seat beside him. “The attendants told me that Ellie hasn’t returned,” Vince said, his voice soft.
When Nate didn’t answer, Vince coughed awkwardly. He reached into the spatial bag he kept clipped to his belt and extricated a large sack, far bigger than the bag itself. Nate could feel the raw magic radiating off it.
“Your share of the reward,” Vince explained. “I went straight to the Patriarch’s office and delivered the portal stone myself. The rest of the bounty still stands though. With everyone out there looking for him, I’m sure someone will find the nil-eater eventually.”
Vince was probably right. Of course, whoever found that monster might wish they hadn’t. Nate said nothing, nor did he take the proffered sack. Vince sighed and tossed it on the ground by his feet.
“Leave it, burn it, give it away; doesn’t matter to me what you do with the Null-cursed drops. But it’s your cut, fair and square. I…I set aside Ellie’s share already. I’ll hang onto it until she returns.”
Nate heard the doubt in Vince’s words at that last statement, and he balled his hands into fists. First the Headmistress, now Vince; how could everyone give up on Ellie so easily?
Purple fire leaked from the Lord Protector’s fingers, coursing down into Nate’s flesh like it had Ellie’s moments earlier.
Nate didn’t resist; he deserved this fate. “I’m sorry, Ellie,” he said, closing his eyes. “The Judge was wrong about me; I’m no hero.”
The coldness of the flames suddenly faltered. Nate’s eyes shot open, widening when he realized that the alien essence coating him had vanished. The purple fire behind the Lord Protector’s gaze dimmed, his face contorting. What’s happening? Are…are those tears I see in his eyes?
“Forgive me,” the Lord Protector whispered, raising his other hand.
Then destructive energy vibrated through Nate’s entire being and tore him apart into oblivion.
Chapter 44
Darkness. A sense of nothingness, stretching in all directions forever. Nate could feel himself slipping away, diffusing throughout the enveloping Null. The thought made him shiver, his entire body suddenly freezing as he struggled to breathe.
A voice called to him from far away, but he couldn’t make out the words. Ellie, is that you? Nate tried to swim through the Null to find her, but he couldn’t move.
He remembered her agonized contortions as the purple fire consumed her. The Lord Protector had sloughed her head from her shoulders with casual indifference, like he was pruning leaves off a tree.
I need to save her. Except…that wasn’t quite right. It was too late to save her from her fate. Nate had already failed. Yet shouldn’t she be here, wherever here was?
A soft warmth enveloped him, a light to fill the darkness. He heard someone near him shouting. “He’s going into shock! Null take me, his soul is splintered. Find me a heatweaver for Source’s sake!”
Nate ignored whoever it was until the voice faded; they weren’t Ellie
It was difficult to focus on anything but the numbing cold. Had the void madness come to claim his sanity just as it had the Lord Protector’s? The Immortal’s manic face flashed before Nate’s eyes, grinning as violet flames burned behind his irises.
Gradually, Nate’s addled mind registered that he was no longer in that space between life and death. He lay on the cool stone of the Ward, just as he had earlier that day. This time had been different though: longer, more…painful. Like the Null hadn’t wanted to let him go.
How long have I been here? Before, he’d always awoken immediately upon arrival. There had been almost no break in time between his death and his rebirth. But this time felt far more jumbled in his head.
Perhaps that’s what he got for dying twice so close together. He opened his eyes and squinted. Even the diffuse blue light of the Ward seemed blinding to him right now.
His cubicle was the same bare stone it always was. Someone had draped a blanket over him, but the thin material did little to stop his shivering. He focused on his essence, trying to modulate his body’s temperature.
Pain spiked through his skull, and he winced. Apparently, even that minor veristry was too much for him to manage. This was soul sickness on steroids.
Nate heard hurried footsteps from the hall outside. Two figures appeared in the doorway to his cubicle.
Leading the way was a woman dressed in the robes of an attendant. Golden veins ran up and down her cheeks. Behind her stood a scowling man with coiling fire instead of hair who smelled faintly of sulfur.
When the attendant saw Nate was awake, she studied him clinically. “Can you talk?”
“Yes.” Nate’s throat felt sore, and his faintly chattering teeth made it difficult to speak.
“Do you remember your name?”
“Nate. Nate Carter.”
“Good. And do you know where you are?”
“Tabula Rasa. In the Ward.” Nate kept his answers short; it was all he had the energy for.
“Good. Do you remember what happened to you?”
Nate hesitated. He didn’t want to go into any details here with these strangers. “Died. In an anomaly.” It was close enough to the truth, at least.
Thankfully, the attendant didn’t press him for more details. “What of other recent memories? Do you remember the events leading up to your death?”
With each question the attendant asked, the scowl on the man behind her deepened. Finally, he snapped, “I don’t mean to be rude, but I have many important places to be that are not here. Can we get on with this?”
“Of course,” the attendant said. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. This man is—”
“I can see what he is, or rather what he is not. His body has temporarily lost its ability to generate heat, likely because of his—I presume traumatic—death. Now move so I can warm him up and get on with my day.”
Practically shoving the bowing attendant aside, the heatweaver leaned over Nate. He could feel the warmth the man gave off like a balm on his frigid skin.
The man closed his eyes and pressed a hand to the blanket wrapped around Nate. Heat flowed from the man’s fingers, quickly radiating throughout the cloth.
Nate shivered again, this time in pleasure at the spreading warmth. His body was already beginning to feel more normal. Even so, he could sense the pervading weakness of soul sickness underneath.
It would likely be at least several days, perhaps more, before it left him. If his previous bout of soul sickness had felt like a hangover, this time it was more like a severe case of the flu.
When the blanket started to smolder, the heatweaver grunted and sat back. “That’s as much as I dare put in him, even with his heat affinity. Won’t do much good to stop his chills if I burn him to death. Now, if there’s nothing else…”
The man eyed the attendant expectantly until she nodded at him. She took his place as he rushed from the chamber, pressing a finger to Nate’s neck and closing her eyes. A soft golden glow flowed from her fingertips into his skin, where it vanished with a slight tingle. Nate guessed she was a lifeweaver; most of the attendants in the Ward were.
After a moment, she opened her eyes and smiled. “Your temperature is already stabilizing, Mr. Carter. I think you’ll be just fine. However, your soul has been through a lot recently. I’d recommend taking it easy for at least a week to allow yourself time to recover.”
Nate nodded mutely. Seeing that he wasn’t about to die on her anymore, the attendant told him to summon her if he needed anything else and hurried off. With the hunt for the bounty still underway, no doubt she was busier than normal here.
The bounty… As his body recovered, Nate thought back to the moments preceding his death: the hand cupping his throat; the faint smile on the Lord Protector’s lips; and then the agony of his body literally shattering apart like a porcelain doll.
But there was more too, wasn’t there? He also remembered the mournful look the Lord Protector had given him just before the end, full of regret as he silently wept. Forgive me, he had said. Why hadn’t the Immortal burned him with the same violet essence he’d infused into Ellie?
At least Vince had escaped with the portal stone. Nate just hoped the old man kept his end of the bargain and didn’t run off with the bounty. That was a problem for later though. For now, he needed to find Ellie, and then a hot meal.
It took Nate a few minutes before he felt strong enough to stand, letting the blanket fall away. He quickly donned the soft cotton robes the attendant had left for him before stepping out into the hall. He’d been here often enough that he was used to the Ward’s spiraling layout, branching paths all diverging from the central verifont to form wings with a dozen private alcoves apiece.
Nate checked the nearest rooms, but saw no sign of Ellie. Strange; reclaimed party members would usually all be grouped together, as he and Ellie had been last time. A deep feeling of unease settled in his gut. He moved down the spiraling chamber to the next hall of alcoves: empty as well.
He repeated this process again and again, checking every section of the Ward. Ellie was in none of them. Even odder, not a single attendant could remember seeing her since their previous visit.
Had she somehow escaped the Ward too quickly for them to notice? That shouldn’t have been possible, especially when her soul sickness would’ve hit her at least as hard as it did him. Where the Null is she?
Nate didn’t know how much time had passed before he found himself back at the beginning of the first spiral. A few of the nearby attendants eyed him askance, but none approached.
There was nothing technically against the rules to stop him from remaining here as long as he wasn’t disturbing the other patients. Most people just tended to flee the Ward as soon as they were able, not stay for the grand tour.
He caught the attention of one of the curious attendants, beckoning her over. She smiled politely when she arrived. “How may I help you, Mr. Carter?”
How do they always know our names? Surely they didn’t actually memorize the name and face of every verist in the Nexus.
Nate cleared his throat. “I’m looking for someone. She should’ve resurrected at the same time as me, but I can’t find her.”
The attendant bobbed her head. “Of course, Mr. Carter. Any slain party members should have reconstituted near you. If you check—”
“But that’s just it.” Nate tried to tamp down on his rising panic. “She’s not there. She’s not anywhere. None of the other attendants have seen her either.”
“Perhaps she already left, Mr. Carter. If you like, I can fetch one of the ground stewards. They might be able to assist you better.”
“You’re not listening to me! There’s no way she could’ve snuck out without at least one of you seeing her.”
A sudden thought occurred to him. “But now that you mention it, there is someone else I’d like to talk to. Could you please get the Headmistress for me?”
“I’m…not sure that will be possible, Mr. Carter,” the attendant said hesitantly. “The Headmistress is very busy and—”
“Please,” he begged. “I think something might’ve happened to my friend. It involves the traitor, the Lord Protector.”
That certainly got the attendant’s attention. She motioned for him to keep his voice down, glancing around to see if anyone else was watching them. “Very well. Come with me; I’ll take you to speak with the Headmistress.”
Her previous forced cheer now noticeably absent, the attendant led him up several spiraling ramps to the top of the Ward. As they walked, Nate did his best to stay calm and collected. There had to be a logical explanation for what was happening. If anyone would know what to do, it would be one of the Immortals.
Eventually, they emerged into an inner complex of offices Nate had never seen before. It appeared to be a mix of personal quarters for the attendants and storage rooms for organizing their supplies. They stopped before the last door in the hall, engraved with the Headmistress’ title in a flowing cerulean font.
“Enter,” a voice said from within at the attendant’s hesitant knock.
Nate barely had time to take in a modest office filled with books and scattered stacks of papers before the attendant yanked him into a deep bow.
“My apologies for disturbing you, Headmistress, but Mr. Carter here wishes to speak with you. It…concerns the traitor.”
There was an awkward pause. Nate kept his head bowed. He had never met the Headmistress, but he dared not risk offending an Immortal. Especially not when he needed her help.
Finally, the Headmistress said, “Leave us, Amelie. I shall handle this matter personally.”
“Of course, Headmistress.” The attendant left, shutting the door behind her.
“Rise; you need not bow to me. I am but a humble servant for you and the other verists of Tabula Rasa.”
Cautiously, Nate raised his head to get a better look at her. He had seen the Headmistress around the Ward before; of all the Immortals, she was the one who most often interacted with regular verists. He supposed it made sense, given her position as head of not only the Ward attendants, but of the other stewards and servants within the city as well.
Her smooth face radiated serenity as she regarded Nate with piercing blue eyes. Her robes were barely a step above those worn by the common attendants, dyed the same unassuming brown, and she possessed no manifestations of her veristry that Nate could see or sense.
“Tell me what troubles you, Master Carter, and how it pertains to Bastul: the one you know as the Lord Protector.”
And so he did. Nate hadn’t planned on telling her everything, but once he got started, the story just came pouring out. He told her about finding the Lord Protector’s badge and setting off with Wes and Ellie; about their encounters with Commander Grisham and the Riftwalkers; and finally, about their confrontation with the Lord Protector and his violet essence.
This last part seemed to intrigue her the most. “You are certain this violet energy came from Bastul?”
Nate nodded tiredly; recounting their harrowing adventure had taken a lot out of him, especially the last bits with Wes and Ellie. “Yes. We believe he may have also used it to do something to verabeasts: to enhance them somehow. And Wes confirmed that whatever happened to Ellie also happened to several members of the Riftwalkers, including their leader.”
The Headmistress pursed her lips and tapped her fingers against her desk. “Your story troubles me greatly. That which you describe should not be possible.”
“Because of the Lord Protector’s lack of vera?” Nate asked.
The Headmistress raised an eyebrow. “And what makes you think Bastul does not possess vera?”
“When we confronted him, he relied solely on his basic manipulation of vibrations. It was devastating to fight against, but his lack of an aegis or any prepared weaves tipped us off.”
“I see,” the Headmistress said, leaning back in her chair.
A thought occurred to Nate, and he blurted it out before he could stop himself. “None of you have any vera, do you? The Immortals, I mean. All of your reserves are bone dry.”
The Headmistress hesitated. “I will not discuss the details here at greater length,” she said at last. “And I would ask that you keep your speculations to yourself. Suffice it to say that, while we remain in the Nexus, we are…bereft of our full veristry. Or at least, we should be.”
“You think that the Lord Protector somehow cast a weave using this violet essence?”
“It is what makes the most sense. Yet, as you say, Bastul should lack the vera required for such a feat. Further, what you describe does not match his abilities, even with vera.”
Nate’s frustration boiled over. “So what did he do to Ellie? And how can we fix it?”
The Headmistress’ expression grew somber. “I do not know on either count. This power defies my own knowledge. As for your friend…all we can do now is watch and wait. Mayhap she simply needs more time than normal to reconstitute.”
Despite her words, Nate could tell she didn’t really believe that. This is a dead end. If the Immortals wouldn’t help him, he’d just need to seek answers on his own.
Not knowing what else to do, he nodded numbly and started for the door. Arguing would likely only earn the Headmistress’ ire.
As he placed his hand on the door handle, the Headmistress said, “One last thing. You said that you and your friends hunted Bastul down but could not kill him. What of the portal stone; were you able to recover it?”
“Yeah, we did. One of my associates is returning it to the Patriarch as we speak.”
The Headmistress kept her face carefully blank, but Nate thought he caught her lips tighten briefly into a frown. Why wouldn’t she want the portal stone returned to the Patriarch? Perhaps the Dawnstars were on to something, and there was more happening behind the scenes than the Immortals were willing to admit.
“I…see. Very well; I thank you for your service. If I learn anything to aid you in the search for your friend, I shall inform you at once.”
A few minutes later, Nate found himself aimlessly wandering the halls of the Hub. Ellie was gone. And no one, not even the Headmistress herself, seemed to know where she might be or what might’ve happened to her.
Ellie is gone…and it’s all my fault. If he had just listened to the others, they could have walked out of there together with the portal stone. Instead, he’d led her back to be slaughtered.
Vince had been the only one smart enough to abandon Nate to his idiocy. But Ellie had trusted him. Ellie had stood by him, no doubt expecting to die. And die she had. Just not in the way any of them had anticipated. So much for her second chance at life.
Nate had no idea how long he spent in the Hub. When he tired of walking, he found a bench in the central courtyard and sat there, staring blankly past the endless trickle of people departing.
Someone cleared their throat nearby, and it took Nate a moment to realize that another figure had taken a seat beside him. “The attendants told me that Ellie hasn’t returned,” Vince said, his voice soft.
When Nate didn’t answer, Vince coughed awkwardly. He reached into the spatial bag he kept clipped to his belt and extricated a large sack, far bigger than the bag itself. Nate could feel the raw magic radiating off it.
“Your share of the reward,” Vince explained. “I went straight to the Patriarch’s office and delivered the portal stone myself. The rest of the bounty still stands though. With everyone out there looking for him, I’m sure someone will find the nil-eater eventually.”
Vince was probably right. Of course, whoever found that monster might wish they hadn’t. Nate said nothing, nor did he take the proffered sack. Vince sighed and tossed it on the ground by his feet.
“Leave it, burn it, give it away; doesn’t matter to me what you do with the Null-cursed drops. But it’s your cut, fair and square. I…I set aside Ellie’s share already. I’ll hang onto it until she returns.”
Nate heard the doubt in Vince’s words at that last statement, and he balled his hands into fists. First the Headmistress, now Vince; how could everyone give up on Ellie so easily?
