Page 112 of An Archer's Redemption

The scrying Mage stepped up to the bowl and looked at me. “It’s a simple process. Whichever of you is performing the scrying, place both hands on the outside of the bowl, but don’t touch the water. Call your Light. When your magic responds, focus your thoughts on Irina, what she looks like, every detail you can remember. If she wore a certain scent, try to recreate that memory. Everything helps. We wouldn’t normally need to be this detailed, but without an artifact, your mind will have to be the bridge. If you do everything correctly and maintain steady focus, the water will ripple and show images of where Irina is currently.”

Atikus raised a brow. “Would you like to do the honors?”

“I’m not sure this counts ashonors, but sure. I have never done a scrying before. You may have to guide me,” I said, stepping up and gripping the sides of the bowl.

I closed my eyes, and my Light flared at my call.

I heard a gasp and opened my eyes, disrupting the process.

“What happened? Is everything okay?”

Atikus chuckled and looked to the scrying Mage, whose eyes couldn’t have grown any wider.

“I don’t think he’s seen your tunic light up before,” Atikus said with a flourish of bushy brows and a chuckle.

“Sorry,” the Mage said. “It’s . . . incredible. I’ll stay quiet this time.”

I allowed myself a grin, then closed my eyes to focus again.

As before, my Light responded quickly.

I replayed the scene from the Well in my mind, first with Kelså and me running into the chamber in response to Órla’s alarm.

Then Irina appeared wearing the mask of Larinda.

I focused on the details as the Mage had instructed, recreating every wrinkle and weathered spot on the old woman’s face and bare arms, her stringy snow-white hair, and her colorful island dress. I could hear Larinda’s voice, the warmth and depth in her laugh, taste the salt in the air as I breathed deeply.

I held that image, those sensations, for five minutes, then ten.

Finally, I felt a hand pat my shoulder, and the image fell away.

I opened my eyes to find the other two men staring at the bowl in frustration.

“Were you able to remember details?” the scrying Mage asked.

“Of course. I spent a lot of time with Larinda. That wasn’t hard.”

“Well, the water didn’t so much as ripple, much less show us anything,” Atikus said. “I could feel waves of power wafting off as you focused. Having strong enough magic isnotour problem here.”

“Wait,” the Mage said excitedly. “You saidLarinda.”

I nodded, confused. “That’s right. That’s the face Irina wore when I saw her.”

“True, but we’re not looking for Larinda, we’re looking forIrina. Her spirit could have left Larinda’s body to inhabit another. Regardless of what body she wore, it’sIrina’s spiritwe are trying to locate. Try again, this time focused on Irina.”

“This just got a lot harder. I’ve never seen Irina. No one has, at least not in a thousand years.”

Atikus raised a hand like a schoolboy.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said.

“Perfect memory, remember? I have studied the Kingdom War, read much of what still exists detailing Irina’s rise. There are no busts or sketches of her, but her appearance is described in vivid detail in Matias’s Histories.”

“Of course, he even remembers the name of the boring book he read,” I grumbled.

“Yes, my boy, I do. Stand aside and watch your Arch Mage work.”

I rolled my eyes, more for the scrying Mage’s amusement than for Atikus’s sake, then backed away from the bowl and watched as Atikus took over the process. Within a few heartbeats, the old Mage had closed his eyes, called his Light, and caused the water to ripple violently, then settle into images of a building none of us recognized.

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