“That’s why the main spells work the way they do,” Raurie spoke up. “It works with blood and earth. Healing you from blood loss, tracking spells, even creating things—people will use the magic to fix their houses, for example, if it’s made of earth or materials from the ground. It’s all under one spell.”
“Amman inoke,” Aina whispered. She’d heard it countless times when her parents had used the magic to heal people in their neighborhood. “‘Amman’ means the Mothers, and ‘inoke’ calls them.”
Lill nodded. “It’s clearly explained in the Nos Inoken. But the other spells, you have to look for—Verrain spent years combing through the text and finding new ways to twist the magic. He found spells that do the opposite of what the Mothers want: making someone bleed instead of healing them, toppling a building or breaking swords in half, crumbling the earth and controlling it.”
“The more you use it in this way, however,” Gevann said in a warning tone, “the less you’ll be able to use the normal spells. If you use it to kill, you might lose the ability to heal—even to heal yourself, and not only by magic; it could take longer for your body to heal normally as well. The Mothers allow us to make a choice, in that way. If you take a life, you lose a little of yours in return.”
Aina, Teo, and Tannis all looked at one another. They’d each taken plenty of lives.
“It’s also hard to focus after you use these spells,” Raurie said. “Especially after making someone bleed. You won’t bleed yourself, but you’ll feel light-headed and weak like they do, until either they recover or they die.”
“So what you’re all saying is, make sure they die quickly so you can get on with business.” Aina scoffed, but she couldn’t deny this frightened her a little.
The Nos Inoken that Gevann still held drew her attention from the corner of her eye. The familiar red cover with silver text … ever since her parents died, it had been rare for her to see one up close. This magic was power, and that was what she wanted. Power was the only way to stay safe, the only reason she’d lived this long. She’d gather more of it around her until it became an invisible armor, and she’d never lose again.
“I’m ready,” she said, and everyone else nodded or murmured in agreement. Without any more chatter, Gevann counted the people gathered in front of him, then disappeared to another room and returned a minute later carrying an armful of knives. Aina locked eyes with Ryuu next to her, and they both laughed under their breath. Everything about this man was a surprise.
While Gevann passed around knives in silence, Ryuu whispered to Aina, “Did you know there’s a chance the Mothers might deny us if our faith isn’t strong enough?”
She paused for a breath. “Wait, what?”
Ryuu grimaced. “The Sacoren is like a messenger between you and the Mothers, from what I know. It’s the Mothers who decide to bless you. That’s why people like Bautix, and most Steels, would never be able to use magic—it depends on your faith, and money is the only thing they believe in. Do you think the Mothers will agree to bless you?”
“They don’t have any reason to,” Aina said slowly, her heart sinking a little—she hadn’t known there’d be some kind of test involved with this. “What about you?”
He shrugged, looking uneasy. “I hope the faith I do have will be enough. I need this to work.” Then, lowering his voice and leaning toward her, he said, “My parents used their money and resources to help the Inosen, giving them places to hide, keeping them safe. They died for it. But I’ve done nothing, and even last month, when I tried to save my brother, that failed too. I need to do something to help.”
His voice strained a little and his gaze broke away. He stared off toward the hallway, where the Sacoren rummaged through a chest of drawers, muttering under his breath.
“In my brother’s will,” Ryuu continued, “he left an addendum for me: to do whatever I could to destroy the Steels. All of them.”
“While I commend your brother for hating the rich as much as I do,” she said, frowning, “he can’t mean your family too, can he? Your business?”
Since his brother’s death, Ryuu had taken over their family business of mining diamonds and providing tools and machinery to construction companies, factories, and rail stations throughout the country. It was one of the most profitable businesses in all of Sumerand, and the work was showing; Ryuu’s shoulders were tense in a way they hadn’t been before, and there were bags under his eyes indicating he hadn’t slept very well. When she’d first met him, she’d disliked him by default—but then he’d shown her he’d feared for his life as much as she had feared for her own at the time, and he’d believed both of them could be braver than they thought they were.
“I don’t know,” Ryuu admitted when the Sacoren returned. “But whatever happens, this magic is power against the Steels, something that stands apart from money and progress. I want to learn it, to do something to make up for failing them all.”
“We’ll learn it,” Aina said slowly, placing a hand on his shoulder and waiting until he met her eyes—her heart aching at the uncertainty she saw there. “But none of what happened to your family is your fault, Ryuu. You don’t have to beat yourself up over it.”
The Sacoren Gevann now held a crystal chalice with a single diamond inside and cleared his throat to get their attention. The diamond mostly blended in with the cup, but Aina could spot a diamond from a hundred feet away. In his fist, he clenched more of the gems, and with his other hand, he picked up the copy of the Nos Inoken and flipped to a particular page.
“All right, well, the ceremony is quite simple, but you won’t find it very appetizing.” A smile flickered at his lips. “What you’ll do is make a small cut on your upper arm as I walk by. I will collect your blood in this cup and wait until it touches the diamond. Then I will mark you and say the prayer to request the Mothers to bless you. You’ll know if you’ve been accepted when the diamond fills with light. Your faith must be true. Note I say true, not strong. You must believe in the Mothers and their omnipotence, but you don’t need to memorize the Nos Inoken or live your whole life without a sin. You are not expected to be perfect. Indeed, only the Mothers are perfect, and even Sacoren make errors in the Mothers’ light.” His jaw trembled slightly, his eyes losing their focus, but he shook himself out of it and finished explaining in a clear voice, “Once you’ve been accepted, you drink your blood that is inside the chalice; only a small taste is necessary. The ceremony will then be complete. Who wants to go first?”
“I will,” Raurie said in a clear voice, already pulling up the sleeve on one arm.
She held the knife in her lap, utterly casual. The cedar brown of her eyes had lit up with fire, like amber gleaming in a bed of oak. Gevann approached Raurie, kneeling at her side while she made a cut on her arm with the smallest intake of breath. Blood dripped into the chalice and slid along its clear interior to coat the diamond at the center. The Sacoren began praying with complicated phrases in the old holy language that Aina only knew the very basics of. Raurie repeated the words under her breath in perfect time. The holy language was similar enough to the language of Marin, from where her grandparents had immigrated, that she understood it easily.