The vivarium was connected, via arrays of slender copper wires, to a circle of metalglass jars capped by onion-shaped seals made primarily of nickel and embellished with dials that resembled clockwork gears. Inside each jar was a molten core of sapphire magic speckled with red droplets that dripped and coalesced like mercury.
“What do you know about spectrals, Your Grace?” Ishan asked, gesturing at the creature clinging to a branch.
The little primate blinked at Talasyn with unnervingly large eyes as she replied, “Not much.”
“Well, they tend to vanish when they’re startled—or as a means to escape from predators. After studying them for years, we have determined that this vanishing is actually a method of planar shift,” said Ishan. “In much the same way that you can access the dimension known as the Lightweave, all spectrals possess an inherent genetic trait that allows them to transport themselves to another realm within aetherspace—and back again—at will. We speculate that the dragons utilize a similar mechanism, which could account for their elusiveness despite their size, although of course it is impossible to run our current model of testing on such large beasts—”
Urduja cleared her throat. Pointedly.
Ishan ducked her head, flashing an abashed grin. “I apologize. I get carried away with shop talk.” She gestured at the circle of jars and wires. “This is an amplifying configuration. We can make sariman blood pliable for us Enchanters by suspending it in magic from the Rainspring. We have been able to do amazing things with it. For example, we can retain the sariman’s inborn trait of affecting its environment within a seven-meter radius while at the same time canceling its ability to suppress an individual’s aethermancy. Then, by mixing it with the spectrals’ ability to vanish, we can . . . Daya Langsoune, if you please—”
Niamha stepped into the circle. There was a moment wherein she looked the most uncertain that Talasyn had ever seen her, but it passed quickly. Ishan fiddled with the dials on the onion-shaped caps. Once she was satisfied, she stepped away from Niamha and rapped her knuckles gently on the vivarium.
The spectral’s reaction was instantaneous. It disappeared before Talasyn could even blink. The copper filaments glowed white-hot and aether flowed between the tank and the amplifying configuration like dozens of thin, glittering streams. A reaction rippled through the molten core of rain magic and sariman blood and it blazed amidst walls of metalglass, and then—
Niamha vanished.
There was no ceremony to it. One second the Daya of Catanduc was there, and the next she was gone.
“We have had great success replicating this effect on an outrigger warship,” Ishan said into the stunned silence that filled the Zahiya-lachis’s darkened salon. “There is no reason to believe that it won’t work on Sardovian vessels, even the stormships.” She waved a hand to indicate the vivarium. “The filaments here have also been infused with aether magic extracted from sariman blood. This keeps all those affected by the amplifying configuration invisible, hidden in another plane, until an Enchanter cancels the process.”
With that, she wiggled her fingers, and the molten cores of blood and magic within each jar dimmed. The copper wires hummed one last time before stilling. The spectral materialized as soundlessly as it had disappeared, and so did Niamha, looking somewhat startled but otherwise none the worse for wear.
“Utter concealment,” Ishan pronounced with all the satisfaction of a job well done. “Completely undetectable.”
Urduja took over. “Envoys were sent to Vela’s forces several hours ago and they are coordinating as we speak,” she told Talasyn. “As long as we position these amplifiers strategically, the shelters and landing grids scattered throughout the isles of Sigwad will be shrouded from sight. From the air, it will look as though the Storm God’s Eye is uninhabited. When Kesath flies over this area, they will see nothing but sand and rock and water. If their troops search the dense mangrove forests, there will be nothing there to find. And this is all assuming that they’ll even notice that the isles of Sigwad exist. I’m certainly not going to tell them.”
“Are you all right?” Talasyn asked Niamha.
“I’m quite fine, Your Grace.” Niamha brushed off Talasyn’s concern. “It didn’t hurt at all. It was like being in a strange room with the lights out. I could move around and talk and breathe normally, even though my surroundings were—insubstantial.”
“Aetherspace is riddled with dimensions such as these,” said Ishan. “Like cells in a honeycomb. Piggybacking on the spectrals’ ability takes us to one type of dimension, which is a fairly neutral, sort of in-between place, and then there are the dimensions of magical energy like the Lightweave and the Shadowgate. Who knows what else is out there?”
“Let’s focus on matters concerning this dimension first,” said Urduja. “As you can see, Alunsina, it is all taken care of. Once Kesath discovers no trace of Sardovia within Dominion borders, Alaric Ossinast will lower his guard. But the work doesn’t end there—you will have to keep on convincing him that you have no idea what has become of your comrades. Every minute of every hour. Carry yourself like you cannot be questioned. Give nothing away.”
Talasyn was as awed as she’d been when she saw the dragons for the first time. This kind of technology had so many possible applications. The Night Empire might have invented the stormships, but it would take them years to catch up to the Dominion’s level of advancement.
It was in this moment, in a burst of sharp clarity, that Talasyn truly understood that the Hurricane Wars weren’t over. With Nenavar on its side, Sardovia could still take back the Northwest Continent. There had to be a way. She would find it. She would figure it out, one day.
Her mind was afire with curiosity. She longed to visit Ahimsa and see for herself what other marvels Ishan and her people were cooking up. But that could wait; she needed to get through Kesath’s sweep and whatever else had to follow first.
Chapter Twenty-Six
One day after another passed without incident, and it spoke volumes about the state of Alaric’s life that he was somewhat shocked by that. With Dominion escorts ever on the alert for signs of trouble, Kesathese forces combed through their assigned sections of the archipelago and reported nothing of note save for the occasional dragon sighting.
Mathire had been correct in her estimations; by the second afternoon of the search, the various teams had all but wrapped up their respective routes. All that was left on the agenda was the Deliverance’s straight shot across Nenavarene airspace, which at this point was more ceremonial than anything else.
While Mathire finished up traipsing through the jungles with her men, Alaric and Sevraim left for his stormship a few hours ahead of Talasyn and her father. Alaric was eager to leave the cloying walls of the Roof of Heaven. The bulk of the would-have-been invasion force had been sent back to Kesath days ago, and only his and Mathire’s fleets remained, and—as his convoy tore away from the Nenavarene coastline, as the hot tropical sun shone on the sight of familiar ironclads proudly bearing the Kesathese chimera hovering above the Eversea—Alaric breathed easy for what felt like the first time in a long, long while.