Page 90 of Daemon Master

Seymour rolled his eyes, relieving some of the lingering tension. “And I suppose you’re going to tell us why.”

Adrian grinned faintly. “Of course. You see, it doesn’t try to cram a daemon’s entire essence into a vessel and then forcibly extract its technique. Instead, it uses aether grantedwillinglyby a daemon. Heartrender doesn’t recall much of the process Crastley used, but she agrees with my general assessment. Since the daemon’s aether isn’t trying to break free, it takes much longer for the enchantment to deteriorate.”

“That sounds a lot more complicated than Kali’s relics,” Freya noted. “Those simply activate a technique when you give them aether while the journal’s enchantment isalwaysactive. Not to mention how it’s bound to a specific characteristic of the reader, only affecting them if they don’t have a true bond.”

“True,” Adrian conceded. “It must have taken Crastley years to tweak the pattern just right.”

Seymour snorted. “And you intend to replicate his hard work in a matter of weeks? No offense, Adrian, but this sounds even more impossible than it did before.”

“Thankfully, what we need should be much simpler than the journal—closer to Kali’s relics in intent if not execution. Plus, I have the advantage of the reverse Surge on Crastley. That should make it easier to direct Heartrender’s aether and shape the aetherforging.”If I can figure out how to hold the state for longer than a few seconds, he didn’t say aloud.

Freya tapped a finger against her chin. “There’s one other thing that confuses me.”

“Only one?” Seymour muttered.

“If Crastley discovered a new aetherforging method, why didn’t he mention it in his notes?”

Adrian hesitated. The same question had occurred to him. “Maybe…maybe he ran out of time to record it.” Adrian didn’t really believe that, though. More likely, Crastley had intentionally concealed the information.

“Perhaps he didn’t want anyone else to find out,” Seymour suggested, echoing Adrian’s thoughts. “If Kali’s relics came from Project Paragon, Crastley must have known about them.”

“That would explain how he came up with the idea in the first place,” Freya said, nodding. “He already had a model to use.” She grimaced. “And I can certainly understand why he’d want to keep knowledge like that hidden from prying eyes. I’d probably do the same in his position.”

While Freya and Seymour continued their discussion, Adrian’s mind turned to the future. Tomorrow, Elana would pass judgment on their position in the Enclave, and the tournament qualifiers in Haven began only a few short weeks later. Adrian remained a far cry from a real aetherforger. Nevertheless, he prayed this breakthrough would help him craft the relics they needed to enact their plan. Because one way or another, he intended to make Serenity Corp pay.

twenty-one

The Feast

Adrian settled back inhis chair. Crude tables filled the courtyard—enough to squeeze the entire village in amid flickering torches and platters overflowing with smoked meats and grilled vegetables. It had to be a good sign Elana called for a feast instead of a formal meeting…right?

Seymour leaned in from his spot on Adrian’s left and whispered, “Stop shifting like a nervous child about to be presented with his first trainer daemon.”

Adrian shot the watcher a glare. “I can’t help it. This is a momentous occasion. The first step on our road to confronting Serenity Corp.” He gulped. “Or our first major setback.”

Seymour took a swig of some vaguely alcoholic drink from his cup. “You worry too much. Even if this goes south—which it won’t—it hardly matters in comparison to the tournament. Is your aetherforging on track? Tell me about your latest progress.”

From the way Seymour said the last, Adrian could tell he didn’t really care. This was just his way of distracting Adrianfrom his nerves. Feeling a flush of gratitude, he took the offered bait and relayed his most recent attempts to mimic Crastley’s aetherforged journal.

As he spoke, he met Freya’s eyes across the table. She gave him a small smile. Elana had invited them to sit at her own table—another good sign, or so he tried to reassure himself. The Enclave’s leader rested at the table’s head, Freya conspicuously positioned near the opposite end with them. Elana occasionally glanced at her daughter, her brows pinched.

The other dozen guests seated at their table counted themselves among Elana’s advisers or the village elders—people the Enclave turned to when making momentous decisions. Adrian had spoken with most of them over the past month, and while he suspected some did their best to avoid him, what interactions he’d had seemed cordial enough.

There was no sign of Leda, nor those who had left with her after the incident with Ghosttear. Probably for the best. No doubt they’d have been among the most outspoken against his and Seymour’s admittance to the Enclave. Yet another good sign.

Spirits above, what are you so worried about?

His one-sided conversation with Seymour ebbed, and he tried to relax. Having his daemons there helped. Heartrender lay curled in his lap, a steady, soothing presence through their bond, while Lockrod engaged in a mock duel with Shadowlash and Tremorfist off to the side.

Adrian sent Lockrod a warning to avoid getting too rough or knocking into anyone. The last thing they needed tonight was to cause a scene. Not that they were the only non-humans in attendance. Metamire jiggled in Freya’s lap, drawing a fair few stares, and more wild daemons than usual scampered among the tables. Though they occasionally jostled someone’s leg, no oneseemed to mind. Some even offered the daemons sips of aether from their palms.

Something about the scene—all these humans and daemons coexisting in harmony—eased his coiled tension, and he relaxed into his seat.Thiswas the future he was fighting for. A world where everyone, human and daemon alike, could live in peace. No matter what happened tonight, he would do whatever it took to make that dream a reality.

Heartrender opened an eye to glare at Lockrod, Tremorfist, and Shadowlash, huffing her annoyance. Adrian chuckled and stroked her head. “What’s the matter, girl? Too good to play with the likes of them?” She sent the mental equivalent of an eyeroll, and he laughed. “I get it. They can be a touch energetic for me, too.”

Seymour, however, watched the mock brawl with narrowed eyes and tightened lips. Adrian thought he heard the watcher muttering words like ‘juke’ or ‘counterstrike’ and had to suppress an eyeroll of his own. “Are youcoachingyour daemons while they play?”

“Yes,” Seymour replied, keeping his concentration fixed fully on the fight. “No reason to squander a perfectly good opportunity for extra training.”