Page 222 of Bitten & Burned
I smiled. “Once I’ve gathered them, they’re all yours, free of charge.”
“Right, so, before I go, what is your goal?”
“I wish to use Witchsteel… which, as you know, repels certain… enchantments… by its very nature. But I seem to recall seeing somewhere that if you were to smelt the metal in a certain way, it is actually more apt to take on those enchantments.”
“Ahh, sounds like you’re speaking of Emberlacing…” Vael murmured, reaching for the metallurgy book and flipping to the index. “Yes, here it is, page eight-seventy-two…” He repeated the page number under his breath as he flipped to it.
“Emberlacing. That does sound familiar…”
“Yes, here it is. Emberlacing: the process of sprinkling the silver with saltfire, in between steps of the Inerian fold…” He looked up at me, a question in his eyes yet unspoken.
“The Inerian fold is a process, one of folding the silver and dunking it in moonwater,” I explained. “Because moonwater is blessed by Inera.”
“Ah… yes. Good. So…was that what you were looking for?”
I looked back down at the page. “Only through emberlacing are you able to enchant Witchsteel. The Final Emberlace is crucial; otherwise, the witchsteel will repel every enchantment thrown at it.”
“And you want to enchant it… How?”
I pulled another book towards me: one on weapon enchantments not commonly used. “Pyraxis.”
“Pyraxis…” Vael trailed off. “You’re trying to burn these bastards where they stand? From the inside out?”
“Only if I’m forced to,” I said with a smile. “Anton wanted me to be armed. I no longer have full access to my magic. At least, not reliably. Therefore, I feel I should play to my other strengths.”
“Oh, and what strengths those are, Ms. Marlowe…” He smiled fondly. “Alas, I cannot stay with you to expound on them longer, for I must go attend to… other matters.”
I paused, my hand on the book in front of me. “Can I come with you?”
“I… don’t know if you would want to see that, Rowena. Rellin’s been in the dungeon since the Ashbornes attacked, and… he’s not been healing properly, I suppose one could say.”
“I know,” I said. “I’d imagine he’s well and gangrenous now, and certainly not long for this world even if you weren’t about to… dispatch… him.”
Vael didn’t reply at first, but that was a reply in and of itself. I raised an eyebrow, prompting him.
“That’s putting it mildly,” he admitted. “Anton had to anoint the door down to the dungeon with peppermint oil. The scent wasthatrepellent.”
“I need to ask Rellin about this,” I said, gesturing at the mark on my thigh. “I don’t wish to go into this encounter with Silas again without knowing all I can about this specific brand. I know the man well. He will pick apart any weakness whenever he finds one. He used to take down many a pompous final-year student that way. And, I imagine, with this? It’d be even worse.”
“I don’t relish the idea of you being exposed to that… to Rellin again.”
“I don’t either. But, if I can find something out? You know how valuable that would be, Vael.”
He sighed. “I’m not certain if you are making sense or if I’m just… loath to tell you no. But… I suppose. Just stay in the shadows, don’t let him look at you, and… mind the smell. He’s… pungent."
I nodded. “Of course, Vael, I just need to get dressed first.”
The walk to the basement set my teeth on edge. I’d known Rellin was being kept down there all this time, but I’d tried not to thinkabout it. Hells, the windows in the front study weren’t even fully fixed yet; it hadn’t been that long ago that the Ashbornes had attacked us here at Halemont. Still, I faltered as I approached the door.
I never made a habit of coming down to this part of the house; I was pretty sure I’d been everywhere else but here.
The dungeons.
As far as I knew, before the attack, they hadn’t seen use in decades.
Vael was at my side, and he squeezed my hand to remind me of it. I took a deep breath. I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t doing this alone. It was going to be alright.
Information was all I needed. Information was my greatest weapon. I could do this. Iwoulddo this. Besides, Rellin was chained and injured. There was no chance of his doing any of what he’d threatened to do to me before. The memory of his grimy hands on my thighs wasn’t one I relished. However, one doesn’t soon forget words of that nature, hissed that way, in those circumstances.
