Page 81 of Daemon Master

The next week passedin a blur as the meeting that would decide their fate in the Enclave drew ever closer. Adrian tried to tell himself it didn’t matter. He and Seymour had survived on their own for months—they could do it again. Even if they failed to garner the Enclave’s support, they could still enact their scheme to infiltrate a watcher fortress and enter the Diamond Cup.

Somehow, the thought offered little comfort. He wanted to earn these villagers’ trust and respect not only because they’d make valuable allies in the fight against Serenity Corp—though a back-up plan wouldn’t hurt—but also because he wanted a place, a people, to call his own. Thus, he kept up his regular discussions in the mornings, Seymour joining him more often than not, and devoted the rest of his free time to tournament preparations.

A major part of that focused on training with Heartrender. If she couldn’t manage a complex enoughMirror Imageto serve as a disguise, then the rest didn’t matter. Adrian couldtell Lockrod felt neglected by all the attention Heartrender was receiving. He had the daemon practicing on his own, but it wasn’t the same as running drills with his daemon master.

I’ll make it up to you,he promised after ordering Lockrod away for the third day in a row. Though Lockrod tried to muffle it, his dejection filtered through their bond, making Adrian cringe. Spirits below, there simply weren’t enough hours in the day!

Footsteps jarred him from his harried thoughts, and he looked up to find Freya striding toward them. A quivering pile of ever-shifting goo about the size of a small dog trailed behind her, drawing curious stares from passing villagers. Adrian tried not to stare himself as the amorphous daemon stretched and elongated, only to sink back to a rounded blob.

“He started following me around after I gave him some aether,” Freya explained when she caught Adrian’s curious gaze. “His name is Metamire.” Her tone grew defiant. “Personally, I think he’s rather cute.” She jutted out her chin as if daring him to disagree.

The ooze-like daemon expanded and contracted, reminding Adrian of a beating heart.Cute. Right.He swallowed back laughter as he nodded. To each their own, he supposed.

“I can take him with me today if you want,” Freya said.

Adrian blinked, feeling like he’d missed something. “Um, what?”

She pointed to Lockrod, who perked up. “Lockrod. He can tag along with Metamire and me if he needs a break from training. I’m not doing anything exciting—just a few chores around the village. But I bet Metamire would appreciate the company.”

Metamire quivered gelatinously in what might have been excitement. Lockrod eyed the daemon as if weighing his options. Then, he chittered and scampered over to Freya.

“Thanks,” Adrian said as she reached down to scratch behind his daemon’s ears. “He’s been feeling a bit down lately. A break would do him good.”

“Not a problem.” Something flickered behind her eyes, quickly suppressed. “I’ve never even experienced a daemonic bond before, so it’s not like there’s much else I can do to help.”

Again, he sensed her leave something unsaid. More questions about the true bond, perhaps? He let it go as she wandered off with Metamire and Lockrod. He had plenty else to occupy him.

It turned out Seymour had been right to worry. While Heartrender’s control over her technique was greater than ever, what he was asking her to do far exceeded her previous limits. The main problem was accounting for movement. She could create an image of a person easily enough and even anchor it to Adrian. This worked okay when he was standing still. The instant he shifted position, however, portions of his body poked through the static image. The end result resembled a carved cutout of a person being waved about.

It wasn’t until he spied a group of kids playing with a wooden puppet, complete with jointed limbs attached to strings, that the solution hit him. Instead of anchoring the entireMirror Imageto a single spot, Heartrender could attempt to anchor the illusion at multiple points along his body. That way, segments of the image would shift along with the matching limbs underneath.

Doing so proved easier said than done due to the incredible quantities of aether and focus required, but Adrian had to admit the result appeared far more convincing, at least from a distance. The only thing Heartrender needed now was practice.

Somewhere amid all the training, Adrian dedicated what time he could to aetherforging. Getting Heartrender to create a suitableMirror Imagewas merely the first step. He still needed to figure out how to imbue that technique into a stable relic.

By all rights, his skills were improving faster than they had any right to after only a handful of weeks. Whether it was his access to the true bond or his unusually perceptive aethersense, the basics of aetherforging came naturally to him. He enchanted more rocks, baskets, tools, even food—anything he could get his hands on. Though the configuration of aether channels within each object differed, the process remained the same—work your aether into it while tracing the flow. The better a job you did and the more aether you invested, the greater the effect.

His attempts to aetherforge fruit led to an interesting discovery, albeit one he should have anticipated after Freya’s example with the Suprimera tea. Aetherforging didn’t simply strengthen the imbued object: it enhanced its intrinsic qualities. Thus, aetherforged fruit grew juicier while Kali’s daggers became sharper, and Seymour’s armor gained enhanced sturdiness.

Studying those items, he gleaned how experienced aetherforgers had constructed them as a natural extension of his own amateurish work. All it would take was a more skillful hand, a better sense of aetheric flow, and greater quantities of potent aether gradually added over time to reinforce the enchantment from a temporary boon into a permanent attribute of the object.

Someday, he hoped to complete such work himself. He’d already convinced a begrudging Seymour to lend him his armor so he could attempt to repair its drained aetherforging. For now, however, he’d settle for something more fleeting. Even a relic capable of castingMirror Imagefor a couple hours should be sufficient for them to sneak aboard a watcher airship.

Unfortunately, despite all his progress with basic aetherforging, he still had no spirit-cursed idea how the more advanced relics functioned. He’d assumed at first that it had something to do with the reverse Surge given the connection to daemonic techniques. But even if Serenity Corp had founda way to replicate the meld in Kali’s relics, Crastley had never managed a reverse Surge, so he couldn’t have used it to enchant his journal.

Equally perplexing were the differences Adrian gleaned between the respective aetherforgings. The latticeworks of aether in Kali’s devices had an artificial feel to them, as if they’d been forced into their configurations. They also appeared more volatile, their aether steadily deteriorating. Crastley’s journal, on the other hand, had maintained its enchantment remarkably well. Its aether also felt calmer, closer to the natural flow of a regular aetherforging.

Perhaps two separate methods had been used. If that was the case, Crastley’s had clearly been superior. There had to be something Adrian was missing—something vital. Now, if only he had the faintest inkling what it was or how to find it.

He sat pondering the issue one afternoon, lost deep in thought, when shouts suddenly rang out through the village. He frowned, looking up from his work. It was rare to hear so much sound during the day. Had the scouts spotted something worrying?

Before he could decide what to do, the door to his hut burst open. Xander stood there, panting and wide-eyed. “Come…quick…” he wheezed.

“What is it?” Adrian demanded. “What’s wrong?”

“Ghosttear…accident…Freya…”

Xander had barely gotten the words out before Adrian was shoving through the door, heart in his throat as he broke into a run. It didn’t take him long to trace the continued shouts to where a couple daemons had collapsed in the street. Near the middle of them stood Ghosttear, its frail body flickering even more unsettlingly than usual as it released little plumes of aether.