Warsinger by James Baldwin (most important books of all time txt) 📕

Curious, I hit the switch and watched as the gauntlet unfolded itself along my arm. When I could slip it off, I went hunting for the Maker’s Mark. It was on the inside pad of the ring finger: a triangle with a double-barred cross underneath it. Didn’t seem that unusual to me.

“Hmm. Maybe Rin or Ebisa would know what it means.” Even though I couldn't use the gauntlet myself, I was pleased. This thing was a god-tier artifact, and unlike the Spear - it wasn't cursed to shit by some fuckwad admin. Rin would explode into a cloud of glitter when she saw it. “Man... what is this place? And who are you, epic beard dude?”

The mummy did not reply. I was grateful for that - but then, I remembered something. I could call shades now.

“Hmm.” My eyes narrowed. I ran my tongue over my teeth while I switched the un-useable epic mage gauntlet for my much shabbier novice one. Then I raised my hand over the sarcophagus, concentrated, and uttered the magic words. “Suund'karon, Karalt, Binah!”

[This corpse is too old to be used to raise a Shadow.]

“Meh.” I sighed, and put the glove away. “Worth a shot.”

“Hector, I just felt magic. What happened? Did you find anything?” Karalti stuck her head in, and her eyes widened when she saw the paintings. “Woah. Pictures.”

“Yeah. Hella pictures.” I gestured around, still a little shocked to see it all myself. “I don’t know who this guy is, but I’m guessing he was an artificer that worked on this Warsinger. Do you know what this means?”

“Nope!” Karalti said happily.

“It means that, for some reason, the queen of frigging Dakhdir was here, in Karhad.” I gestured up at the painting. “This place is about two thousand years old. This tomb must have been built here when the fifth Triad – Grigori and Lirenian, Sachara and Withering Rose, Phaedra and Zarya – came to Myszno to repair Matir’s Dragon Gate.”

Karalti’s eyes widened. “Ohhhh.”

“But you know what this means?” I continued. “Nocturne Lament might not be the only Warsinger in Myszno. Your great-grandma five times removed said that Nocturne was the least of them… so what if Withering Rose is here, buried somewhere right under our feet? We could be sitting on it and not even know.”

“Then we better find her and kick Baldr’s ass, huh?” Karalti leaned over the edge of the coffin and sniffed curiously. “We need to be careful in here, though. There's heaps of books, and scrolls, and magic stuff, and mana that's not... like... in great condition. If we disturbed something, it could start a fire, or make this place too toxic for archeologists to go in and out.”

“Yeah, for sure.” I strung the medallion on some leather, hung it around my neck, and waited to feel smart. After a couple of seconds without some major Stephen Hawking-style revelation about mathematics or space-time, I shrugged and turned back to the image over the tomb. “But you know what we are going to do?”

“What?”

“We're gonna grab that paper and charcoal and take rubbings of that engraved text outside,” I said. “And then we’re going to find someone who can translate it, because I’m pretty damn sure it’ll take us to where we need to go next.”

Chapter 28

I gathered the crew in Kalla Sahasi’s War Room, which was really just the ballroom, but with a table. The castle’s actual war-room was missing its ceiling thanks to one of the Demon’s catapults, so we’d moved the dining table in here and had set it up for meetings. I’d taken screenshots of the fresco and sent them to Suri and Rin, who were still looking off into space with expressions of curiosity and awe. Ebisa and Istvan couldn’t see them, so they had listened to our description. Karalti, who had, was busily devouring an entire raw carp at the other end of the table.

“There were ten Warsingers, all created near the end of the Drachan War, and five Triads across a four-thousand-year span,” I said, looking around. “Each Triad is a team of six Starborn who have the ability to open the Dragon Gates and somehow access them to repair – or destroy – the Caul of Souls. The Caul itself incarnates the appropriate Starborn into Archemi if it’s being threatened with destruction.”

“Six people? Not three?” Istvan asked.

“The ‘Triad’ part of the Triad refers to the role each pair takes,” I replied. “The Paragon is a dragon and bonded rider pair in charge of the Spear of Nine Spheres.”

“Hi! I’m the dragon!” Karalti waved to him, her cheeks bulging as she chewed.

“The Artist pair are Artificers who manage the technical and mechanical aspects of the Gates, I guess,” I continued, looking to Rin and Ebisa, before my gaze slid over to Suri. “And the Warsinger pairing represents the Warsinger itself as well as the pilot who controls it.”

“I see.” Istvan rubbed his chin. “You have the Spear of Nine Spheres, so you and Karalti are obviously the Paragon pairing. Are Rin, Ebisa, and Lady Suri…?”

“Dunno,” Suri said. “I doubt it. I don’t know shit about Artifacts. Can’t speak for Rin and Red over there.”

Ebisa, who had dressed in her red travelling leathers for the day, shook her head. “I’m not Starborn. I’m not an Artificer for that matter, either. I can look at Kanzo’s library of memories like a cookbook, and can tell people how to do something. Rin has to do all the actual work.”

“YOU fixed the Spear?” I cocked my head at Rin.

She nodded, blushing blue. “E-Ebisa did everything but hold the lathe, though! It was mostly her… I just… did what I was told!”

If Ebisa had any eyes, she would have rolled them. “Modesty does not become you, kitten.”

“I think I understand what this is about,” Istvan said. “But I have a question. Why are we searching for these Warsingers to fight Baldr, to the exclusion of other options? Vlachia is one of the most magically advanced civilizations in the world.