I can't think of any other profession they'd be better suited to.
Before I could overthink it, I assigned both Swift and Cheer their new vocations.
The scavengers were looking mightily pleased with themselves. Cheer was currently engaged in cutting out bits of the sheep's brain, washing them, and then preparing them on a wooden block, presumably for cooking. She had a flat stone already heating over a fire, and was rubbing oil into the chunks of brain before rolling them carefully in a coating of crushed hazelnuts.
Swift, meanwhile, was hacking away at the exposed bone of the skull's lower jaw. Every time a sharp fragment was chipped away, she examined it, then either tossed it over her shoulder or tucked it into the bandoleer she wore across her chest, already bristling with other sharp things that could potentially be used as weapons.
She already looked like a walking junk heap. They both did. Since they'd started holding—and apparently fixing—their beetle races, they'd been accessorizing with the spoils of their ill-gotten victories. Items the spectators had bet and lost—pebble necklaces, woven grass belts, carved shroomwood fetishes, even a bracelet made from shiny beetle carapaces threaded onto a knotted root—adorned their person. They wore all the things all of the time, as though afraid their former owners would steal them back if they left them unattended. Which, to be fair, they probably would. Still, what was it with gnomes and terrible fashion?
There was a sudden cheer from across the stream. The two scavengers both glanced over, then returned to their own tasks, apparently unconcerned and uninterested in what the other gnomes were doing, as usual.
My own curiosity was overwhelmed by a sudden surge of ecstasy. For a long moment—though not nearly long enough—my entire being was filled with a sense of power and fulfilment that left me incapable of speech. I basked in the tingling warmth even as it began to recede, like a cat lounging in the last rays of sunlight.
“You’re purring again,” Ket told me.
Ignoring the smirking sprite, I opened my Augmentary—noting with satisfaction the glowing “9” in the triangle at the bottom—and scrolled through my list of abilities. Sure enough, there was a brand-new entry at the bottom.
Adjure
Tier 9 ability
Grants deeper insight into denizens’ vocations and unlocks advanced skills. Denizens can now be assigned to more specific construction-based tasks.
Mana cost: none
I’d long since passed the point of hoping for showy, destructive skills—skills past-Corey would have described as “god-like.” Now, I experienced a thrill of excitement at the possibilities hinted at by the Adjure ability. I might still be unable to strike down my enemies with a thought, but I could drastically increase our tribe’s efficiency, and in the long run that would prove more valuable to my gnomes than any number of fireballs or lightning bolts.
A glance across the stream showed me the cause of my latest Ascension. Over by the barracks, a small group of gnomes were patting each other on the back while Longshank looked on approvingly. The flood barrier was now five sacks deep and three high, and it seemed the water level beyond them had finally started to recede. The workers’ jubilation at a job well done—and their increased Faith in me—had been just enough to push me into tier nine.
"Clever Shanky!"
Still floating on the afterbuzz of Ascension, I let the sprite sense my grudging agreement. My lingering worry about the rising water I kept to myself. After all, it would probably sort itself out soon enough.
Probably.
Thirteen
Too Easy
Tiri
Tiri rubbed her lower back and grimaced. That's going to ache for days.
She should have been feeling angry at the ranger, Sinica, for the aggression with which she'd treated her. But when she thought about it, she couldn't really blame her. It wasn't as though her reaction had been totally unjustified. Excessive, perhaps, but she had caught a complete stranger in her bedroom. How else was she supposed to react?
And the way those other rangers had spoken to her... Tiri couldn't help but feel bad for her. Those women hadn't cared about Tiri's plight; they'd barely even glanced at her face. They'd just wanted an excuse to threaten and insult Sinica. No wonder she seemed so angry at the world.
Trust no one.
It was as though Lila's words were warning her. Sinica could have been a concerned roommate (concerned to the point of deranged, but still). But she could just as easily be another of the Guildmaster's agents, determined to tie up those 'loose ends' Lila had mentioned in her journal.
Focus. Find the cells and free Coll. Then you can worry about everything else.
Logic suggested the cells would be somewhere underground. Shrugging off her discomfort at the very idea of their existence—the Academy had nothing of the sort, at least as far as Tiri was aware—she descended the nearest staircase.
As she made her way along more corridors and down more flights of stairs, she took the time to look more closely at her new ability.
Find Text
Discern the location of writings made by a specific author. Can be used to unearth stashed evidence, or to assist with the discovery of long-lost tomes hidden away for centuries. Or just to impress a librarian.
Note: Chance of success is increased if user is in possession of an item belonging to the author.
Skill type: passive
Prerequisite(s): any scribe class
Required for: Detect Intent
Most people assumed that only those with access to mana had an Augmentary. Tiri was as nonmagical as a brick, yet her devotion to studying—natural history, museum specimens, living things, not to mention hundreds of hours spent poring over texts both factual and fictional—had unlocked an entire new realm of
