Read Online The Rival by Kristine Kathryn Rusch - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kristine Kathryn Rusch
Tags: Fantasy
Ads: Link
sword for you."
"Her smithy is dead, and I have you."
"I'm a scholar just like you, holy man. My smithing days are long gone."
Matthias smiled. "They were long gone. But you've had six months of practice now."
"Six months of exploding metal." Yeon picked straw off his skin. He had welts too. He wiped an arm over his face, leaving a long black streak on his forehead. "Most metals don't explode."
"I suspect that's what makes this one so special." Matthias picked some straw off his stomach. He was in the middle of the straw pile on the outside of the smithy. The water had exploded backwards, into the smithy, putting out the forge fire, but leaving the furnace running. Steam and smoke still poured out.
They would have quite a mess to clean up.
"I think you're chasing your tail," Yeon said, as he pushed himself to his feet. "I really do."
"Maybe," Matthias said, "but if I am, you're chasing with me."
Yeon grunted, put a hand over his mouth, and went inside.
Sometimes it did feel as if they were chasing a dream. But Matthias's scholarship had turned up interesting changes in Rocaanism over the centuries. The Fiftieth Rocaan had pointed the way by resurrecting the original recipe for holy water. Once he put in an ingredient missing from the common recipe, some people started to have skin reactions. Elder Reece had the worst one, and it was his lack of a reaction that led the Fiftieth Rocaan to know that a Fey had tampered with the holy water in the Tabernacle.
The reactions intrigued Matthias. What if the Islanders' reactions were merely a mild form of the melting the Fey suffered? If that were the case, then perhaps there were other ways of attacking the Fey, ways forgotten or not yet discovered.
He brushed the last of the straw off himself. He had started pursuing this theory when he couldn't get that Fey's voice out of his head. Burden, the Fey he"d murdered, had said Matthias had Fey-like magick, and that he had used that magick to create the poisonous qualities of holy water.
You changed the water's properties, Burden had said. Your magic is now part of the mix, and that is a sign of a very powerful magic maker.
His voice mingled with the voices of so many others.
Demon spawn.
They had called Matthias that from childhood because of his unusual height. That had been one of the reasons he'd decided to join the Tabernacle.
You're tall, Burden had said. Islanders usually aren't tall. Height seems to go with the magick for reasons we don't understand.
Matthias had killed him for saying that. Or at least, the Fey had tried to make Matthias believe he had killed Burden. There had been another Fey in the room, a spark of light known as a Wisp, and it had flown into Matthias's face before Burden's death. Who knew what kind of magick the Wisp had imparted? Who knew how they had tried to warp his mind?
He had resigned as Rocaan. He hadn't been able to continue anyway, not after Jewel's death. But he hadn't lost his interest in the history of the Tabernacle. And that interest had gone from the history of the Tabernacle to the history of the Secrets.
So many of the Secrets the Rocaan held were useless pieces of information. The Tabernacle no longer held the Feast of the Living nor did it celebrate the Lights of Midday. Those sacraments had disappeared during the time of the Twentieth Rocaan, although the Secrets to the ceremonies were still passed from Rocaan to Rocaan. There were two dozen such Secrets, of which the Rocaan still employed about five.
The one that had intrigued Matthias most was the Secret of the Sword. The Eighth Rocaan had discarded this one, saying that Rocaanists no longer needed to carry weapons. But the Sword-Making ritual was passed on from Rocaan to Rocaan in an unbroken line from the time of the Roca's death. Forty generations of unused knowledge.
Matthias was trying to resurrect it all. Five years of research had
"Her smithy is dead, and I have you."
"I'm a scholar just like you, holy man. My smithing days are long gone."
Matthias smiled. "They were long gone. But you've had six months of practice now."
"Six months of exploding metal." Yeon picked straw off his skin. He had welts too. He wiped an arm over his face, leaving a long black streak on his forehead. "Most metals don't explode."
"I suspect that's what makes this one so special." Matthias picked some straw off his stomach. He was in the middle of the straw pile on the outside of the smithy. The water had exploded backwards, into the smithy, putting out the forge fire, but leaving the furnace running. Steam and smoke still poured out.
They would have quite a mess to clean up.
"I think you're chasing your tail," Yeon said, as he pushed himself to his feet. "I really do."
"Maybe," Matthias said, "but if I am, you're chasing with me."
Yeon grunted, put a hand over his mouth, and went inside.
Sometimes it did feel as if they were chasing a dream. But Matthias's scholarship had turned up interesting changes in Rocaanism over the centuries. The Fiftieth Rocaan had pointed the way by resurrecting the original recipe for holy water. Once he put in an ingredient missing from the common recipe, some people started to have skin reactions. Elder Reece had the worst one, and it was his lack of a reaction that led the Fiftieth Rocaan to know that a Fey had tampered with the holy water in the Tabernacle.
The reactions intrigued Matthias. What if the Islanders' reactions were merely a mild form of the melting the Fey suffered? If that were the case, then perhaps there were other ways of attacking the Fey, ways forgotten or not yet discovered.
He brushed the last of the straw off himself. He had started pursuing this theory when he couldn't get that Fey's voice out of his head. Burden, the Fey he"d murdered, had said Matthias had Fey-like magick, and that he had used that magick to create the poisonous qualities of holy water.
You changed the water's properties, Burden had said. Your magic is now part of the mix, and that is a sign of a very powerful magic maker.
His voice mingled with the voices of so many others.
Demon spawn.
They had called Matthias that from childhood because of his unusual height. That had been one of the reasons he'd decided to join the Tabernacle.
You're tall, Burden had said. Islanders usually aren't tall. Height seems to go with the magick for reasons we don't understand.
Matthias had killed him for saying that. Or at least, the Fey had tried to make Matthias believe he had killed Burden. There had been another Fey in the room, a spark of light known as a Wisp, and it had flown into Matthias's face before Burden's death. Who knew what kind of magick the Wisp had imparted? Who knew how they had tried to warp his mind?
He had resigned as Rocaan. He hadn't been able to continue anyway, not after Jewel's death. But he hadn't lost his interest in the history of the Tabernacle. And that interest had gone from the history of the Tabernacle to the history of the Secrets.
So many of the Secrets the Rocaan held were useless pieces of information. The Tabernacle no longer held the Feast of the Living nor did it celebrate the Lights of Midday. Those sacraments had disappeared during the time of the Twentieth Rocaan, although the Secrets to the ceremonies were still passed from Rocaan to Rocaan. There were two dozen such Secrets, of which the Rocaan still employed about five.
The one that had intrigued Matthias most was the Secret of the Sword. The Eighth Rocaan had discarded this one, saying that Rocaanists no longer needed to carry weapons. But the Sword-Making ritual was passed on from Rocaan to Rocaan in an unbroken line from the time of the Roca's death. Forty generations of unused knowledge.
Matthias was trying to resurrect it all. Five years of research had
Similar Books
