I had a conversation with a young man today - Vumo Ras, one of the court’s scholars of ruudun. We had the opportunity to talk at length, and though he is young and overly deferential I feel as though he could grow into quite the asset with some care. I intend to invite him along on our expedition to Sun’s Birth - it would be difficult not to, since he has been following me like a baby tari ever since we talked. I cannot be too vexed by an earnest man, however, and I would not spurn his expertise. Our troubles have their roots in ruud, and I expect that in the coming days I shall need all of the competent help I can get.

- Excerpt from the collected letters of Goresje Di Sazhocel Selyta, Royal Archives, Ce Raedhil.

The workshop had fallen quiet but for a few lingering huddles of workers. Bit by bit, the pieces of the mammoth lens had left the floor until only a few of the delicately arched ribs of glass remained. Arjun and Jackie stood over one such, looking at their reflections in its glossy surface.

The effects of the scriptwork were subtle. The shape of the glass did not change, nor did it tilt, but the light bent strangely through it as the writing on its metal caps glimmered. The glass shaded through a range of refraction that left it a tangled blob of shadow before rebounding to airlike clarity - then snapped back and was glass once more.

“We’re done,” Arjun said, nodding to the scriptsmith beside him. “This one checks out.”

The red-robed man nodded and began to wave down some porters, but Arjun stilled him with a hand on his shoulder. “If you don’t mind,” he said mildly, “we can carry this up.” The scriptsmith blinked and stepped aside, looking profoundly uncomfortable as Jackie shot Arjun a look.

“Carry this?” she muttered. “Arjun, this thing is huge.”

“We’ll manage,” he replied, keeping his voice similarly low. He moved to one end of the rib and lifted the glass off the table experimentally, nodding. “It’s not too heavy.”

Jackie moved to the opposite end and winced. “Christ, when have you found time to lift?” she said. “We can do it but it’s not going to be fun.”

“We need to keep ourselves involved,” Arjun said, speaking calm, neutral English. “Once they decide we’re done working they’ll probably confine us so we don’t wander off. We need to move to where the action is.”

“Find a way to be useful, huh?” she grunted, lifting the glass to her shoulder. “What are we doing, stopping them? Helping them?”

“Keeping our options open,” Arjun replied.

Jackie nodded, shifting the glass where it was digging into her shoulder. “To the top, then,” she said, trudging toward the elevator. None intercepted them as they made their way towards the doors - but as they passed the entrance to the workshop itself they saw Sjogydhu leaning idly against a wall, polishing Sunshine with a small cloth.

Arjun reached out and pushed the elevator control. A humming came from the shaft as the car moved - there were no cables, as near as they could tell, but there was some form of resonance with the shaft itself as a result of the opulent chamber’s transit up and down the shaft.

Sjogydhu raised his head to look at them. “Going somewhere with that?” he asked.

“We’re done here, so we thought we’d go up to the lens,” Jackie said, keeping her voice casual.

Sjogydhu smiled and dropped his head, swiping his cloth over his weapon in slow arcs. “You know,” he said, “when Vumo Ra granted both of you the right to use the same title he bears, I thought he had some design in mind that hinged on your use of that status. Later I saw that you were indeed learned, and might have earned it in truth.” He stuffed the cloth away in his armor and reslung Sunshine at his hip.

“Today I believe you are true scholars, both here and in your home,” he said. “And one trait that I have observed almost universally in your kind is that you have no talent for dissembling.” He walked toward them, hand on his weapon. “You’re not going up that lift.”

The two tensed, and Jackie’s eyes narrowed. Slowly, she shifted her grip to leave her inscribed hand free. She had managed to tuck a few lit crystals into her belt during their work, and now her fingers drifted towards where they were hidden.

“Hold on,” Arjun said. “You haven’t tested the lens yet. There may still be problems-”

Sjogydhu waved his hand dismissively and gave a tired sigh. “You know,” he said, “another trait you share with the scriptsmiths here is your belief that carrying a weapon somehow saps the mind. You’re inventing reasons why your presence is required at the lens because you don’t want to tell me your true intentions.”

Jackie let her hand rest a hair’s breadth away from a crystal, her fingers tingling from the near-contact. “Can you blame us?” she asked.

“That is absolutely my prerogative,” Sjogydhu said. “Fortunately not necessary in this instance, however, since I had already decided to send you the assembly area.”

“What?” Arjun asked. Jackie blinked, her fingers twitching.

Sjogydhu barked a short laugh. “The looks on your faces,” he chuckled. “You weren’t wrong. We have yet to test the lens assembly and will likely have use for your expertise. Vumo Ra has been rather insistent about moving as fast as possible, so I will avoid trying his patience by sequestering you away from the heart of the action.”

“You said we weren’t going up the lift,” Arjun shot back. “At a time like this, you’re toying with us for your own amusement?”

“I dislike squandering opportunities,” Sjogydhu replied. “But I meant what I said; the path to the assembly area is down. The lens is atop a Pillar.” He grinned at them, leaning over to punch the proper elevator control. “Just not this one.”

The lift went down a long, long ways - far enough that the ambient noise from outside had faded by the time they came to a stop. The doors hissed open to show a small room wrought from damp black stone, one wall open to an unlit tunnel that stretched off as far as they could see. A small cart sat motionless near the elevator. Sjogydhu walked up to it and patted it, gesturing for them to set the lens element down in its bed.

Jackie groaned and rubbed her shoulder, sniffing at the air. “Back underground?” she asked. “Where does this lead?”

“A few places, but the main branch goes through the harbor district,” Sjogydhu replied, leaning down to take a small coin half-embedded in the cart’s side and walking toward the tunnel. The cart swiveled to follow him, and after a moment’s hesitation so did Jackie and Arjun. After another moment Sjogydhu took a string of qim from his pocket, which gave them enough light to walk by.

He gestured to the vaulted ceiling. “We had a few collapses - Vumo Ra took care of them earlier on, there are a lot of uses for a discrete method of transit around the city. I believe we cut a few passages of our own as well. Much of it was complete before my time.”

“The harbor district,” Arjun frowned, peering into the darkness ahead. “The pillar is - of course!” He turned excitedly to Jackie, his eyes glittering in the dull light from the qim. “The Lighthouse. The light comes from the lens itself. Something must be partially powering it even in its broken state.”

“Some manner of wind-driven device,” Sjogydhu confirmed. “We believe the original intent was that the device would use the constant winds at the peak of the tower to offset any slow dimming of the charge crystals, ensuring the lens was ready to fire at any moment. It’s been heavily damaged and the original crystals are long-destroyed, so it merely serves to excite faint bursts from the lens. A fraction of its potential output, but given what that represents it can still be quite bright. This is the flickering one sees from the ground, and the reason it intensifies so during storms.”

Arjun nodded slowly. “It makes sense,” he said. “The lens was probably some sort of defensive emplacement from the beginning, so they’d want to have it ready at a moment’s notice.” He snorted. “Too bad that what eventually came for them couldn’t be stopped with a shot.”

Sjogydhu managed a soft laugh at that, although the echoes rippling up and down the tunnel lent it a vaguely sinister feel. “Vumo Ra feels that if our fathers had managed to stave off the disaster that took them they would have found another way to end themselves. He knows more about the times before the collapse than any man alive, and it is his opinion that they were hopeless - that the pillars, the vinesavaim, all of their greatest works represent an unsustainable escalation in their craft. That their creations were growing too fast for them to understand, much less control, and in making them they sealed their doom.”

Jackie exchanged an uncomfortable look with Arjun. “Sjogydhu,” she said. “Did Vumo ever talk to you about why the vinesavaim were created?”

“He did,” Sjogydhu said. “They maintain an area that’s balanced, temperate, perfect for habitation. We would be lost without them.”

A stretch of quiet dragged out for several footsteps, but he said nothing else. “That’s all?” Jackie asked.

“What?” Sjogydhu chuckled, turning to look at them. “Do you think it such a small thing, to mold the air and weather for our comfort? To ensure that we can grow sufficient food? Let us say nothing about Maja’s protection against her sister, although obviously that could not have been part of the original design.” He looked between their faces, his smile fading as he saw the serious expressions they wore. “What?” he asked.

“That isn’t what Maja told us,” Arjun said slowly, “when we asked her.”

Sjogydhu’s eyes narrowed. “Oh?” he asked. There was no trace of joviality remaining in his tone.

“They were made so that your people could use ruudun,” Jackie said carefully. “It is dangerous, in its normal state. It demands that a thinking being focus on it in order to function, and it uses that focus to slowly corrupt their mind.”

“That’s absurd,” Sjogydhu scoffed. “I live in the tower of the scriptsmiths and have no small learning in it myself, I think such a thing would have become apparent were it so.”

“The vinesavaim focus on your scriptwork in your place,” Jackie said. “They watch everything in their domain, and they’re resistant to the corruption.” She winced. “Well, to an extent.”

“Absurd,” Sjogydhu repeated, speeding up his pace. The cart’s wheel squeaked in protest as it accelerated to keep up. “There would have been records, notes, logs. We have records from before the collapse that speak of the vinesavaim and they mention none of what you’re claiming.”

“Sjocelym records,” Arjun said. “But the the Sjocelym didn’t create the vinesavaim. The Cereinem did - at least, they were the ones entrusted with their care. Have you heard what the Cereinem say, when they talk about the draam je qaraivat?”

“The stones protect,” Sjogydhu grunted. “We know the effect they have on the silent ones.”

“Is that it?” Jackie countered. “How long have the silent ones been a threat? Because to hear them tell it, they’ve been saying that for as long as there have been Cereinem. What were the stones protecting them from, before that?”

“Arrive at your point,” Sjogydhu said. “So what, if the vinesavaim protect us from this as well?”

Arjun cleared his throat. “We think that perhaps their protection is not absolute,” he said. “Eryha succumbed to the corruption and destroyed almost everything. What was left of Tija was - unstable.” He glanced at Jackie, who pressed her lips into a line. “And Maja, although she is much more lucid, is showing worrying signs. Your people are showing worrying signs.”

He let the quiet extend for a few steps. “Vumo,” he said, “is showing worrying signs.”

Sjogydhu stopped suddenly enough that the cart skidded over the floor as it braked, jarring the glass rib worryingly in its bed. “Is this the part where you ask me to betray Vumo Ra?” Sjogydhu asked.

“To save him,” Jackie retorted. “You heard him, even he thinks he isn’t going to make it out of this alive. Do you want to give a weapon this powerful over to a man with nothing to lose?”

Sjogydhu rounded on them, sending the cart scurrying confused out of his path as he stalked toward them. “Every man, woman and child in Tinem Sjocel, for as long as they’ve been alive, they have been under Vumo Ra’s protection. Their parents, for as long as they were alive, their fathers and their fathers’ fathers - all of them lived and died under his care.”

He took another step forward, his voice lowering so that it seemed to sink into the dark around them without rebounding from the walls. “He is Tinem Sjocel. More than the king, more than Maja, more than the land itself. He built this. The kingdom lives because of him.”

Arjun looked back, pale but not yielding a step. “It may die because of him,” he said. “You know Vumo better than anyone alive, I’d say. Is that really what he’d want? For all that he built to crumble now, at the end?” Arjun squared his shoulders, staring Sjogydhu hard in the eye. “You protect him. From his enemies, from the king, from the silent ones, from us. What about from himself?”

“I serve Vumo Ra,” Sjogydhu grated out. “He is breaking himself for our sake, yes. It is straining him, yes. He may die.” Sjogydhu paused, swallowing hard. “He has persevered through his own pain for us, all of us. You’ve seen the agony he endures.”

Jackie frowned, and Arjun shook his head. “It’s true that we haven’t known him long,” he said. “But you can’t deny the change in him. When we met Vumo he was calm, collected, in control. Now he is raving, scattered. He’s not-”

“He’s not in control of himself,” Jackie breathed. “Sjogydhu. How did Vumo break his leg?”

Sjogydhu shook his head. “When he was touring the defenses-” he said irritably, only to break off as Jackie stepped forward to stand close to the two men.

“Not when, how,” Jackie said. “Listen to me, this could be very important. Did someone break Vumo’s leg intentionally?”

Arjun drew in a surprised breath, taking a step back - and Sjogydhu, too, drew back with shock clear on his face. “How did you know that?” he asked. “There’s no way you could know. It was just the two of us, he swore me to silence.”

“He asked you to break his leg,” Jackie said. “Oh, that orange bitch. He wasn’t there when we arrived at Idran Saal. He was by the gate, but he wasn’t there. Sjogydhu said he had other business.” She looked at the guard captain, who was staring at her wide-eyed. “That was when it happened, wasn’t it?”

“How do you know?” Sjogydhu asked, reaching out to grab her by the arm.

“Because a vinesavai tried to take my body from me as well,” she said quietly. “And Arjun saved me, just like you saved Vumo. Oh, this is bad. This is very bad.”

“To take-” Sjogydhu whispered. “He mentioned no vinesavai. He said he was going to take a great risk, a necessary risk. That when I saw him next I should take him to a room where none would disturb us and bind him securely. He gave me a code, a nonsense phrase, as well as device to run over his body, and if it glowed I was to - to hurt him. Break the bone where it showed light, and keep doing it until he spoke the passphrase.” His hand clenched into a fist. “He made me swear an oath, made me swear I wouldn’t stop. And when I saw him at first I almost broke that oath, he seemed so normal. But he didn’t know the phrase. He didn’t know me.”

“He met her,” Jackie said. “Somehow he set it up. Arjun, this is bad. This was one of the points of no return. Jesse and I both saw it, that Vumo and Maja meeting would change things.”

“Change them how?” Arjun asked.

Jackie shook her head. “It doesn’t work like that, I just know it’s something we couldn’t take back.” She turned to face Sjogydhu once more. “What did he say, after you broke his leg?”

“The phrase he had given me,” Sjogydhu said dazedly. “Then he asked me to help him up and bind his leg. Thanked me for what I had done and said I had passed his test.”

“His exact words,” Jackie urged. “What were they?”

“He said he was glad that my loyalty, at least, was not in question,” Sjogydhu said.

Jackie retreated back a step, her face pale. “Oh hell,” she said. “Guys, we need to hurry.”

“No, explain yourself first!” Sjogydhu insisted, his voice regaining some of its force. “I cannot protect Vumo Ra against threats I don’t understand.”

“He wasn’t testing you, you poor bastard,” she said. “He was testing Maja, and she failed.”

There was not one single lift that ran the entire height of the Lighthouse - the scriptsmiths had restored one that ran from the tunnels up to a nearly-deserted floor about one third of the way up the tower. The stone slid back flush as they exited; no trace of the entrance was visible in the dim coinlight.

Unlike the Archives, the inhabitants of the Lighthouse had not bothered to patch over the original decor or indulge in elaborate restorations. The halls were dark here, the air stale and uncomfortably warm. Sjogydhu led them onward with quick, anxious steps - his typical acerbic manner had vanished after their last conversation in the tunnels, and now he pressed on with silent, desperate focus.

They made good time through the twisting corridors. Their way was clearly marked by the path previous porters had carved through the dust, a dark line amid the thick coating that clung to every surface. They encountered nobody else on the well-traveled path, however. The faint noise of their footsteps and breath seemed to echo forever up and down the hallway.

The silence was complete enough that Jackie felt odd breaking it, but she cleared her throat regardless and spoke in a low voice. “Where is everyone?” she asked. “Shouldn’t there be porters or scriptsmiths here?”

Sjogydhu turned to look at her briefly, not breaking his stride. “We should have seen someone by now,” he said. “We need to hurry.”

“That’s what I said,” Jackie retorted, nettled, but hastened to keep up as the guard captain accelerated to a near-jog. It was fast enough that he nearly ran past the second lift, skidding to a stop as the trail of footprints swerved into a featureless wall. He laid a hand impatiently against it and darted in as the lift opened.

The ride to the apex was tense, but not quiet. The lift moved quickly compared to the others, and the roaring of the air around them would have stifled any conversation they’d have attempted - so all three of its occupants simply waited, eyes shifting back and forth around the darkened interior.

The doors opened in a near-explosion of fiery light - they faced west, towards the setting sun, and the day’s last light shone bloodred on the top of the tower. Wind rushed into the elevator, sharp and frigid. Sjogydhu recovered first and darted from the lift only to freeze a few steps out and stare in shock at the lens emplacement.

Jackie followed him out, raising a hand to block the glare. Even before her eyes had adjusted to the sudden brilliance she had no trouble making out the massive emplacement. It dominated the top of the tower, the elephantine central lens pulsing radiant gold amid a forest of concentric prisms burning with the sun’s crimson glare. Even in its idle state the lens was painfully bright to look at.

When Jackie moved her hand to shade her eyes from the lens, she saw the bodies strewn across the rooftop. Blackened scraps of red cloth fluttered above the corpses, all that was left of scriptsmiths’ robes consumed in flame. Hands curled into withered claws, mouths stretched open and hollow sockets stared blindly up at the sky above.

“Sjogydhu Qa!” Vumo called out, popping out from behind the emplacement to wave at them. “I was hoping you would stop by earlier. It’s been slow work with only one pair of hands.” He held his hands up, dry blood crusting away from his skin as he splayed his fingers wide. He was spattered with it, although he appeared uninjured apart from his leg. The fatigue that had plagued him earlier was nowhere to be seen, replaced with a jittery, manic energy that left Vumo practically bouncing on his toes.

Sjogydhu stepped slowly forward, his eyes roving around the scene of the massacre. “What did you do?” he whispered. “The guildsmen…”

Vumo grimaced, clutching at his robes. “They turned on me,” he said. “Men who had sworn to the guild, sworn to me! At the end they were cowards. I told them the truth and they wanted to wait, to talk, to confer.” He sighed and shook his head, turning to hobble over towards the lens assembly. With a chill, Jackie saw that it was aimed squarely at the distant mountains overlooking Draatyn Asidram.

At the Sanctum.

He fetched a thin tool from a nearby table and began running it methodically over the nearest array of prisms. “I regret the necessity, but they simply refused to understand,” he said. “Fate is a mirror. The enemy is without, the enemy is within. We cannot confront the threat at our borders while we neglect the one in our midst.” His voice was climbing with every word, rising to nearly a shout. “In our heartland, in the safest of all redoubts, look!”

He flung one arm wildly towards the mountains. “She sits there, silent, worshipped, insidious. Whispering lies in my quiet moments where none else can hear. No longer, not one moment longer!”

“Wait,” Jackie protested. “Vumo, the invasion. We know Maja’s a problem - hell, we agree with you, but it’s too soon to move against her.” She pushed past Sjogydhu, ignoring his renewed look of shock. “If she dies before we’ve dealt with the threat at Idran Saal, the silent ones won’t be restrained any longer. They’ll get fast, stealthy, they’ll tear through any defense you-”

She jolted in surprise as Vumo’s hand darted out to grab hers, the tool he had been using clattering to the ground. His fingers were cold and thin, but they closed around her wrist like a vise. “Interesting,” Vumo muttered, peering at her arm for a moment before releasing it dismissively. Jackie took a hasty step back, and Vumo’s eyes came up to fix on hers.

“They tried to take you too,” Vumo said. “Odd that I failed to see it before. Was it Maja?”

Jackie cleared her throat nervously, rattled by his unexpected speed and strength but happy to have distracted him from the lens. “Tija,” she said, “or what was left of her.”

“Even after the fall of Tinem Aesvai?” he asked, tilting his head. “Insidious, like I said. Even a small spark can start the fire anew.” He sighed, bending down to retrieve the tool he had dropped. “A pity you’ll have to die as well.”

Jackie moved even farther away, looking warily at Vumo. “Not enough killing today for your taste?” she asked.

“Only what was necessary,” he said. “And it was necessary. Is. Will be. Or can you not hear what was left behind whispering to you?” he asked, his eyes going momentarily glassy. “I was overconfident, I admit. I thought I could shed her bonds simply by breaking the script, but the fragments remain - they collect, they murmur in the corner.” The corners of his mouth turned down. “Waiting for the bone to knit.”

He grinned suddenly, his eyes sparkling. “But not fast enough,” he said brightly. “Today Maja dies. Without her preferred fare the other sister will come for Ce Raedhil instead, and I will strike her down as well. Both gone, both done. Then you and I, we can die and take the last scraps of them with us.” He laughed, trailing off into a coughing fit.

“We have to wait,” Jackie insisted. “Once the silent ones are dealt with-”

He swiped a hand irritably. “The Setelym meddlers will come to take this away from us,” he muttered. “They do not care if we labor under invisible chains so long as we do it quietly. There is a limited window to act. No, it must be now.”

Jackie walked to the side, slowly reaching into her bag for a charge crystal. “Listen, Vumo,” she said. “I know what it’s like, having someone try to take you over like that. You’re right to be angry over what she did to you.”

“To me?” Vumo hissed, his eyes bulging. “To me? My injury, my infection, my slow demise are nothing compared to what she has already taken. This wound is a gift, so that I may know the truth of Maja - that she is responsible for greater crimes.” He took a deep, shuddering breath, gripping his head in his hands.

“This kingdom had a future once, one I have spent the longest of lives watching slip through my fingers. All lost, because of her.” He pointed with trembling hands towards the mountain. “Everything I have done, have ever done, has been but a pale imitation of what could have been. What would have been had she not stolen our rightful leader.”

“Jaa tseve,” Sjogydhu whispered. “This is about Goresje?”

Vumo rounded on him so quickly that he flinched. Sjogydhu came to attention as Vumo stalked away from the lens to face him down.

“It has always been about Goresje,” Vumo said, voice shaking with anger. “Tinem Sjocel was a delusion before him, a farce! Warlords indulging in petty squabbles with the bloodiest of them wearing a crown.” He made a guttural noise of disgust. “He smashed the old order and built a new one over the ashes, a kingdom where the best of the old world could benefit the new. He was supposed to lead us, Sjogydhu. I - we had a path forward, to walk together with him.”

Vumo’s voice was plaintive, almost pleading. “But he drifted away. Ranting about half-remembered dreams, spending hours immersed in projects nobody understood. His dreams gone, replaced by hers.” He clenched a fist, flecks of blood falling from his fingers, then let it relax. When he raised his head again his face had once more become sallow and weary. Tears sparkled in his eyes.

“He was more than we ever deserved,” Vumo said bitterly. “More than I-” He cut off, turning to face a console. “This, at least, I can do for him.”

“Vumo,” Arjun said, stepping forward. “Think about what he would want. You say that the kingdom was his dream. Would he want you to throw it away for revenge?”

The elderly scriptsmith stiffened, but did not turn. “Do not presume to understand the depth of this betrayal,” Vumo said. “Your friends brought me the knowledge I needed to find my path to the truth, and for that I am grateful - but you cannot take this from me. I could not realize his dream in life, but I can use my final days to exact some measure of justice.”

Arjun paused, then slowly walked to stand near Vumo. “I don’t know your pain,” he admitted. “But I do know what you’ve told us of Goresje, and he sounds like he was a great man. A man who cared for his people and dreamed of a better future for their children.” Vumo shifted, and Jackie tensed her hand around the charge crystal she had palmed as he turned to look at Arjun.

“He was the greatest of men,” Vumo said quietly.

“How do you honor a man like that?” Arjun asked. “Were Goresje in your place, would he take the sure path to revenge over the bodies of his people or risk everything for the future he dreamed of?” He walked forward, laying a hand gently on Vumo’s shoulder. “What sort of man would he want you to be?”

“He-” Vumo choked, looking aside. “He would take the risk. There was no compromise, with him. He would win everything he desired, even if it meant chancing the world.” The tension went out of him, and he slouched away from the console.

Arjun smiled, then blinked in surprise as he stumbled backwards. The handle of a small knife jutted from his chest.

Vumo gave Arjun a sad smile and pushed a button on the console. “But there are no more men like him,” he said, “and I am too tired to gamble.”

Jackie’s outraged scream was drowned in a roar of noise from the emplacement. The air seemed to shudder around them, vibrating like struck glass before a thunderclap sounded - and then there was only the blinding, blinding light.