Page 115 of The Dragonrider and the Void
“Suspicion later,” Hardin interrupted. “Ritual now.”
“Hardin’s right. We’ll settle our differences if we survive this,” Lark said.
The forge still burned with that unnatural blue flame, but the metal the dwarves had been working lay abandoned on the anvil. Lark removed the four ingots from her tunic and placed them carefully beside it.
“The dwarven alloy is copper-based,” Barrik explained, examining the half-formed metal. “It provides the structure for the Vaerdium but needs the four essences to become active.”
“I know the process,” Lark replied. “The courts revealed it to me.”
Without waiting for a response, she moved to the anvil and picked up the hammer dropped by the incapacitated dwarven smiths. The weight felt right in her hand, as if she’d been forging metal all her life. She placed the Solarium ingot on the anvil first, then raised the hammer.
As she brought it down, she channeled White Eye’s energy through their bond. The dragon’s strength, laced with the power of a god flowed through her, enhancing her strength and guiding her movements. Each strike resounded with weight of worlds behind it, physically warping the gravity around the hammer to pound down. The Solarium flattened under the impact, spreading across the dwarven metal like molten sunlight.
Next came the Umbrium, darkness that absorbed light. As she hammered it into the growing alloy, channeling Nix’s fae magic, spikes of black power danced from her hand, through the hammer and out onto the metal’s surface. Each spine of darkness created patterns that mirrored the night sky.
The Verdium followed, its ever-changing nature initially resisted melding with the others. Lark called on both energies available to her simultaneously. The draconic power blended with her fae power to find a perfect balance through her ringing hammer. Under the purple glow, the metal yielded, spreading into the alloy.
Finally, Lark laid in the Glacium, cold and unyielding. As she raised the hammer for the final strike, Lark felt the weight of her oath to the Winter Court. The metal seemed to whisper to her, reminding her of her promise, of the future she had sacrificed. But as the hammer fell, she didn’t think of what she would lose, but what Sataran would gain from this.
The four essences merged with the dwarven alloy in a flash of light that temporarily blinded everyone around the forge. When Lark’s vision cleared, a single ingot of metal lay on the anvil. It caught the light in a multitude of rays, both absorbing and reflecting, simultaneously solid and fluid. Vaerdium, the Bridge Metal, had been created for the first time in centuries.
“It’s beautiful,” Barrik acknowledged. “But it’s still not enough. The binding ritual requires a vessel, a focus, and a matrix.”
“The vessel acts as a bridge between realms,” Hardin said, his eyes on the tear in reality that continued to expand. “That’s Venrick.”
“The focus channels power,” Sasja added, glancing at Lark. “That’s you, with your dual bonds.”
“And the matrix?” Lark asked.
Barrik picked up the Vaerdium, testing its weight in his hand. “This,” he said simply. “Formed into the proper configuration around the sanctuary’s core.”
Another violent tremor rocked the chamber. Through the expanding tear in reality, Lark caught glimpses of battles being fought across multiple realms simultaneously. In Sataran’sskies, dragons clashed in spectacular aerial combat. In the city below, rebels fought the King’s forces street by street. And in the fae realm, courts mobilized their warriors against shadows that leaked through the weakening barriers.
“The Void Drinker is nearly ready,” Barrik warned. “Once it fully activates the Realmstone, no ritual will be able to contain it.”
Lark looked around the devastated sanctuary. “Where’s the core? Where do we need to place the Vaerdium?”
Barrik pointed to the well at the center of the chamber, now mostly obscured by debris and magical distortion. “There. That’s where the original binding was anchored. The Vaerdium needs to be shaped into rings that encircle it, connecting to the cardinal points of power.”
“Which you conveniently know how to do,” Sasja observed.
Barrik’s smile was grim. “I’ve spent decades studying this, little spy. While you played at rebellion, I prepared for what was coming.”
“Yet you never shared this knowledge,” Hardin challenged.
“Would you have believed me?” Barrik countered. “Would anyone have understood the threat before experiencing it firsthand?”
Another section of ceiling collapsed, crushing one of the unconscious dwarves beneath tons of stone.
“No more talk,” Lark decided. “We do this now or not at all.”
She took the Vaerdium from Barrik, feeling its strange, contradictory weight. It pulled on her dual bonds, resonating with both dragon and fae magic simultaneously. Under her touch, the metal began to glow with inner light that alternated between colors associated with each court: golden summer, midnight darkness, verdant spring, frozen winter.
“The ritual will require immense power,” Barrik cautioned. “More than you’ve ever channeled before.”
“I know.” Lark met his gaze steadily. “That’s why Venrick is coordinating with the dragons. They’ll provide the power we need.”
“And the fae element?” Sasja asked.
