When Declan returned to House Ariloch, it was as a hero. Not everyone had been keen to give him rune shards when he wasn’t even present for the swarm, but Chen’s insistence that Declan, his maze and his efforts were the reason they got anything had won them over. Then came the opportunity for a shard exchange with an advantage, however small. Chen was up and heading to the library to study, but stopped him at the door. “The ArCore lady’s been by to see you three times. I told her you’re away on business. You just keep them coming to your apartment, man. Wish I had that charm.”
“You’ve got plenty of charm. When can you re-test?” Declan asked.
“Probably three months. Assuming I’ve got the rin, assuming I keep working. I really want to switch to nights. I feel better at night, I think better at night, but I gotta pass.” He headed out, then shouted “Hey, there’s fire pumas out here!”
Declan stepped aside and let the crowd crush past him, rushing down into the scab. He had one new occupant, a man who had apparently snuck in, locked the door, and not come out. Some people needed a day and some people needed to learn that Declan controlled the locks. It would sort itself out.
Ava had been kind enough to alter their agreement, making it more fair, in that he’d come home with the successful tier one runes he forged, since they were from runes he’d brought. Technically ones exchanged but the effect was the same. He’d lost rin in the process, every failure costing, but gained knowledge. It was a painful trade, but a good one.
This morning he had his final history meeting with Brutus and was going to regret it. They’d decided to meet over breakfast in the circle where the hydrion died, which was newly renovated. Brutus was waiting, coffee and pastries ready. “Tell me about the court. I heard. Trust me, your name was the opener for several good conversations this week.”
Declan gave him the easy version, which ended with “She actually spoke my name out loud to the court.”
“Hopefully you received more than that, but I won’t ask. I don’t share mine. I’m sorry to hear you won’t be continuing but I think you’ve seen the value. So much knowledge, so much power buried in knowing what came before.”
“Thank you. I…have to admit, I was dreading your lessons. I was wrong.” Declan raised a coffee cup, thinking of the Sun Queen’s words. “To the memory of who came before us.”
“I’ll drink to that.” After they’d chatted, Brutus grew more serious. “I have an assignment for you. The kind I can’t really check on because you’re not paying me to. But pick a subject. Dive into it. No one can know all of history but everyone can know one subject. Then share it. That’s all.”
“I already know my subject. Skinner had me reading about the earliest Arcanists. They were so different. I don’t understand how we got to this system, and I want to.” He already requisitioned the volume.
“Usually there’s a good reason why we change. Change is painful. Change is stressful. If people change it’s because they are forced to or because they want to. Knowing the why something works better can prevent repeating mistakes.” Brutus was done with serious talk, his tone said. Declan respected that.
Afterwards, he snuck into the Defense range and set about practicing with his Claw, starting with standing and casting it. The dummies would show attacks for ten seconds before the artifices kicked in, healing them. With a mana stone orbiting, Declan charged Claw and activated it. Three identical lines slashed into the dummy.
Good.
Next, he began to focus, repeating the feeling each time, and following the descriptions. His image was of a flame leopard with paws the width of a man’s head, swiping.
Claw activated. The result was mildly better. Mildly longer, mildly wider. Another standard claw, another one with intent, yes, it made a difference. Not the difference Skinner had claimed, but intent was something that could be sharpened and grown. While it charged, he studied the imprint of Claw and this one in particular. This wasn’t just a Claw rune, it held the shape of a claw mark, and focusing on that improved the result more, producing small tears along the edges.
After fifteen casting attempts, Declan closed his eyes and began to work on the imprint. The first mana lines were too wide, the result didn’t match the rune imprint at all. He still tried to complete the imprint—and discoverred the next obstacle. Closing the perimeter of one slash locked the rune as Strike.
It wasn’t a question of what he had to do, Declan knew it instinctively, because it matched the other challenges. Mastering a third mana stone, maintaining focus, the key was to outline all three strokes in one smooth motion, so they’d be identical.
To his shock, getting three points of mana to blaze in his mind was simple. Dragging them downward for the outer line of Claw was harder. Much harder. Like when he’d flooded Deflect with mana. But it was familiar to Declan, the same feeling as he’d had with Gather. This was progress. Even better, this was progress that wouldn’t need him to come all the way out here to use dummies.
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“Thorn, clear my field! Attack and Defence is starting and I don’t see you on the roster.” Eesa Sherman had left her tent and strolled with a tall man with deep brown, sun worn skin and half a dozen runes already in orbit. “Lawrence, is he in Attack?”
“I don’t see any Declan Thorn. I do see a volunteer for target practice,” the man answered. “Unless he moves clear quickly.”
Declan wasn’t running, he was concentrating, letting the mana stone orbit, and tracing a rune whose shape was easy, whose angles were clean. It was’t the thinnest outline ever but it functioned, and as the man locked a rune before him, Declan poured mana into the square, pushing mana into it. It was a race he was losing, but wouldn’t have been possible before the injury to his mana veins, and Tegan’s ‘treatment.’ The rune flashed as Strike launched, a brilliant white missile that flew in a perfect arc.
Protect flashed into existence, gleaming in blue for a moment as the missile collided and both winked out. Declan had too much experience with Skinner to stand still, he was sprinting, ducking and leaping off the field as a hail of Strikes flew after him. But he didn’t miss Instructor Sherman clapping as he ran, laughing, all the way clear of the field.
He stopped by House Ariloch to unload his library book and waved to Urik. “Know any good spell formulas?”
“Yes, but I can’t share them,” he said. “You’re the rich House Arcanist. Spare a shard for your formula master?”
“When I can use them? Absolutely.” Declan carefully stored the book.
“ArCore lady was looking for you. I said you were at Skinner’s or the library,” Urik said. “She seemed really interested in finding you. Offered me a shard to tell her where you really were. I could keep that secret. For a shard.”
Declan couldn’t stop laughing. “I’ve got lunch at the commons. After that, a shift at the armory, after that I have a private lesson I personally booked and no one is interrupting that. If she can’t find me before that, I’m not convinced she wants to find me.”
It was Healing Breath. Tegan had almost certainly changed her mind, and that was fine but her emergency wasn’t his. It had been a huge decision, to book a session with Brak Atur, a name that was whispered with fear among arcanists. The staff directory simply listed him as providing Advanced Mana Services.
When he’d asked if it was worthwhile, Skinner’s answer confirmed what Declan suspected. He’d been taught basic mana channel alignment but a drawing of mana channels from the library revealed dozens. That seemed like a mistake he needed to adress now.
The hour had been an amount that made Declan paralyzed. Then he asked a question - would he want to learn now or live with the consequences? He made the booking.
Lunch came and Roland was the only house arcanist, but he was one Declan wanted to talk to. Declan flagged down a messenger and paid a handful of rin to send him running. “If you have any runes from the slugs, don’t sell them. I have a contact who’ll trade them at a shard advantage.”
“I’m interested. Tell me what I’d need to do for you.”
“First, I already told Eden and Harris, so don’t try to turn it into a favor. Send a message to Ava Taylor. Tell her Declan Thorn claimed she was offering a one to four shard advantage, additional shard for full runes. If she’s still accepting, it’s a deal for your houses.” And it would build favor with Ava Taylor, which translated into training for him.
Roland smiled and flagged down another messenger from the pool at the front of the cafeterian. “I’ll take it. Never look down at small advantages. Most of ours are probably gone but those that aren’t? I’ll say ‘Hey, friend. I could help you make a few more shards.’”
Exactly what Declan expected. “I want to do something, something for the four of us, and I don’t know who to ask. You would know. The slug runes are worth more right now to the Taylors. You know anything good goes back to the houses. Anything normal usually gets dumped at the armory. I want to build a list of where to sell what.”
“Been done. Six times. Wound up with a house war five of those times and an edict from the Sun Queen the sixth,” Roland said, lost in thought. “There was an entire house built around the idea of auctioning runes. You know why it failed? Houses don’t want other houses to know what they’re buying. They don’t want them to know what they’re selling.”
“I was thinking smaller. I trust you three. I won’t ask you to reveal House secrets, but if we know, for instance, that Feather Flight sells at a shard advantage in Mazal, we share that.” Declan was proud of the small steps. “Eden will know more.”
“Eden is terrified,” Roland said. “That shit in your apartment is proto-alchemist gear and she’s got jack to offer and figures someone’s going to see it and say it. It’s not up to date, I had someone look.”
“What’s the point of having a goddamned lock if everyone can open it?” Declan swore. “Is it worth enough for me to get a rune station?”
Roland choked, sitting up. “Keep the dreams alive. Holy shit, man. That’s really going for it. Sure, ask her for that. It’ll at least let her know she can stop thinking of something to offer. Alchemist gear is expensive. Inscriptionist gear is worse. Rune Forging? Fuck, that’s House level costs. Rent time on someone else’s station.”
“I’m not giving it away. I showed up here with fifty rin to my name and I’m open to trades but I’m not open to charity.” Declan was confident this was the right approach. All of them were friends but Eden already had a thriving illegal potion business. Roland already had a billion favors banked. Harris and Declan were still working to get off the ground. “Get what you can for the slugs. If you can coordinate with Harris and Eden to do it at the same time, so much the better, but who knows if Harding or Drevond want slug runes.”
“Perth sure doesn’t,” Roland said. “I’m not allowed to say what they do want. It’s not slime runes. If you’re really interested in rune forging, I’ve heard the Armory has working stations in addition to the decon ones.”
“Really?” Declan headed over early.
When he arrived at the Armory, he sought out the supervisor, who wasn’t Gladson, but the woman who handled evening shifts. “I know I’m early. I was wondering, I’ve heard there’s working rune stations here. Is it possible to get access?”
She looked him up and down. “Thorn. The ‘Fifty stacks of rune papers a shift,’ Thorn. I have a backlog of slug runes so deep we have a separate storage. If you can help me with that, I can get you slots. Not days. Windows where you could work, but they’ll be late night, early morning. Can you do that?”
“Can you lock me in a room with your slug runes? Can you keep me undisturbed long enough to let me do it?” Declan asked.
For a moment, she seemed to question it. Then she nodded. “Get yourself a drink and a snack. I know somewhere you can work that’s so deep, no one would ever know you were here, Mr. Thorne. I’m Verna. Verna North. If you can do with a little less sleep, I would love to have you work evenings here.”

