“But Fisher Gesha…I have the notes from the ones who made the spear.” He watched her as he spoke, anticipating her shock. “If we could make the spear of the Jai ancestor ourselves, why would we prize it so highly, hm?”Ĭlearly, she didn’t know what he’d taken from the Soulsmith foundry at the top of the Transcendent Ruins. Everyone who used such weapons became monsters, hideous and deformed.” She shuddered. But it did to men the same things it did to…them. Used those bindings to make weapons and take power from the ones they killed. “In my grandmother’s day, they tried such a thing. Gesha brushed her hands off on the front of her robes, though she hadn’t touched anything. He was working himself up with every word, envisioning himself standing in an arena against Jai Long with a white spear of his own. “If this can steal and process madra, like the Ancestor’s Spear does, doesn’t that make this a treasure? Every dreadbeast has the material for a new spear!” When it eats a Remnant, the madra goes there.” “When a dreadbeast eats an animal, the meat goes to its stomach. Spent my life hunting these woods, you think there are surprises here for me?” She jabbed a finger in the direction of the corpse.
“You’ve seen one? I have seen a thousand. She slapped him again, on the other side of the head this time. The same technique that had gone into the Jai Ancestor’s Spear, allowing it to steal madra. His white spiral binding was large and pristine, whereas the one in the dreadbeast had been small and shot through with other colors, but he thought they may be the same crystallized technique. In fact, he suspected he had one in his pack. “But honored Fisher, I believe I saw one of those before.” Lindon bobbed his head to indicate he’d heard her, but he couldn’t just leave it alone. “You don’t touch madra you know nothing about,” she warned, shaking a finger at him. Before his advancement to Iron, she might well have killed him.
The white was speckled with a rainbow of other colors-and, of course, drenched in blood-but he reached the tongs in for it.Īt the first touch, the binding dissolved like chalk in rain.įisher Gesha smacked him on the side of the head. The white object was a tiny spiral no bigger than his thumbnail, but it was warped out of shape, like a half-melted wax seashell. He pushed some of the muscle away, though he found himself leaning at an awkward angle to get around the ribs. There was a glimmer of something behind the wet space where the binding had once rested, a speck of white too bright and clean to be bone.
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