worse fits than mine because he included every bit of instruction on how to create the Einswrath except for the one small bit of information that is the entire secret of his creation.'
Ironfoot held up the ceramic casing of the cynosure. 'This relic is old. How old, I don't know. A thousand years? Two thousand? Ten? There's no way of knowing, and I'm not a history buff, but I think it's safe to say that this thing I'm holding in my hand has been in constant use for millennia.'
'Doing what?' asked Silverdun.
'Taking in the re of Chthonic worshippers. Their spiritual devotion is focused onto this during their most private holiday services, those for believers only. In Benesile's book he describes the intensity of these rituals. On the outside, the Chthonics may seem like a fairly lackluster bunch, but these ceremonies are grueling affairs, lasting hours. There's a set of incantations that's said, some herbs that are burned, and it has the effect of drawing out the essence from everyone in the room and focusing it on the cynosure.'
'And then what?' asked Silverdun.
'And then it takes that essence, undifferentiates it, and sends it through a fold.'
'To where?' asked Paet. 'And why?'
'I can tell you where,' said Ironfoot. 'The directional mapping is there, though it'll take me a little while longer to pinpoint it.
'As to why? I haven't a clue. Perhaps the ancient Chthonics simply wanted a way to store up massive amounts of re to do the very thing with it that Hy Pezho did. I can't imagine what you might do with that much energy.'
'What did Hy Pezho do with it?' asked Sela.
'Well, it turns out that the Einswrath, for all of its apparent complexity, is really quite simple. All it does is reverse the process. It creates a fold, draws that very same undifferentiated re out, and releases it. The difference is that this stored re is highly concentrated, and as soon as it's unfolded ...'
'Boom,' said Sela.
'Exactly.'
'So, knowing this,' said Pact, 'can you build one of your own? Can you create a means of defending against them?'
'Not in the next four days,' said Ironfoot. 'I don't know exactly how Hy Pezho pulled it off. But it doesn't matter. I think I may be able to do something just as good, if not better.'
'What's that?' asked Pact.
'I can take us to wherever all that re is stored,' said Ironfoot, 'and channel it all off into the ether.' He paused. 'There's just one problem.'
'Which is?' asked Silverdun.
'In order to get there, we need someone who is able to work this undifferentiated re. Someone who has the Thirteenth Gift. And the only Fae I've ever met that can do it is an old Arami woman out somewhere in the Unseelie, on the other side of a massive army.'
'Actually,' said Silverdun. 'I may know of one other. A girl I once met.'
Silverdun looked at Sela, who blanched and turned away.
'Where is this girl?' asked Pact.
'In Estacana, last time I checked.'
Pact sighed. 'Go get her. Now.'
He looked at Ironfoot. 'And while we're waiting for him to return, I've got a job for you.'
The renewal of an old acquaintance is a gift both given and received.
-Fae proverb
he suite of the chief high councilor of Blood of Arawn was quite a step up from the magyster's office that Wenathn had held the first time Ironfoot had met him.
'Brenin Molmutius!' said Wenathn warmly, when Ironfoot was admitted into the office. Ironfoot was known in Annwn as Brenin Dunwallo Molmutius, the chieftain of one of the Mag Mell Isles. It required an elaborate glamour to pass as a Mag Mellian, but so far the disguise had worked just fine.
'Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,' said Ironfoot.
'Please, sit,' said Wenathn. 'What can I do for you?'
'That's an excellent question,' said Ironfoot. 'Quite a lot, really.'
Ironfoot took an envelope from the hidden compartment in his satchel, closed with the seal of Lord Everess. 'Read this,' he said.
