Page 24 of The Tree of Spirits
As soon as I stepped outside, the sky cracked open and unleashed a lavish serving of rain. Even as the drizzling, glittering drops fell, the hot summer sun broke throughthe clouds, shining brightly. Light and rain intertwined into beautiful beams of sun-kissed droplets.
I’d read somewhere that sunshowers were a regular visitor in the Fortress, a perfect blend of two opposing forces. Just like life in the New World. Sunshine and rain, happiness and sadness, victory and defeat—all bundled up together into one perfectly imperfect moment.
The sunshowers followed me all the way to the train station. The Watchers were waiting for me there.
CHAPTER 7
THE IRON WOLF
The Watchers were so big that they blocked out the rain—and everything else too. The world shrank to the sliver of space between us.
When the Knights spoke through their helmets, they still sounded human. The Watchers always sounded like machines.
One of them proclaimed, “The General wants to speak with you.”
Of course he did. Making a conscious effort not to sigh, I followed the Watchers to the black iron gates that barred entry to their district. Or maybe the gates were there to keep prisoners in.
The General was in the middle of a video call when the Watchers brought me to his office. The room had more personality than its counterpart in the Castle. For one, the walls were actually painted. It was a pretty ugly shade of grey that looked a little too much like bare concrete for my liking, but that’s probably why the General had picked it. The ugly paint wasn’t the interesting thing about the walls, however; that was the huge glass display case filled with model airplanes. It hung on the wall opposite the General’s desk, presumably so he could look at it while he sat there.
But the General wasn’t sitting behind his desk right now. He was pacing in front of the flat television fastened above the fireplace.
“You’re supposed to be the Many Realms’ leading expert in magic armor. You’re supposed to be the best,” he said, his voice strained, scratching like shifting gravel. He must have spent too much of today shouting at people.
“Iamthe best,” replied the man on the screen. He was dressed like an Alchemist, sporting a vest full of gadget-stuffed pockets, worn over a dress shirt with rolled-up sleeves.
“And yet you found nothing.”
“I found a lot of things,” the Alchemist replied. “Just not what you were looking for. There’s no magic in the Techno Knight’s armor.”
“Stop calling him that,” the General grumbled.
“The soldiers who brought me the suit called him ‘the Techno Knight’. I assumed that was his official name.”
The General’s brow furrowed. “It isnot. It’s just the ridiculous name the Knights came up with, and it’s since spread to my soldiers.”
“Well, technically speaking, it’s a pretty accurate name. The armor was made to mimic magic, but it itself is not magical. It’s tech. Made from salvaged parts.” The Alchemist adjusted his glasses. “Materials salvaged from Gaia.”
The General stopped pacing. “Are you saying that someone on Gaia made that armor?”
“I can’t be surewhereit was made. I can only sayhowit was made: with materials from Gaia. Some of the materials were over two decades old, from the time before the Curse.” The Alchemist drummed his fingers across his desk. “This is very impressive work, General. I’ve never seen armor mimic magic so effectively without having actually been forged with magic. I didn’t even know it was possible. This is astonishing!”
“Yes, it’s just peachy,” snapped the General. “But I’m going to have to ask you to keep a lid on this.”
“Why? If the Court knew Gaia could produce such powerful armor?—”
“They’d admonish us for having such powerful armor and yet still failing so horribly at ruling our own world.”
“I see you watched Prince Fenris’s recent interview.”
The General somehow managed to turn both ghostly pale and bright red at the same time. “Just send the boxes of armor pieces back to the Black Obelisk.”
“I figured you’d react this way. I had your courier pick up the boxes earlier today. The armor is already on its way back to you. See you at the Summit, General.”
The General grunted in response, and then the screen switched to a news broadcast.
“Well, don’t just stand there lurking in the shadows, Miss Winters,” the General growled over his shoulder, like a wolf impatient for his dinner.
I moved slowly toward him. “That was Daykan, one of the most famous Alchemists in the Many Realms.”
