Page 119 of The Cruel Dawn
How did she have time to study his tattoo so thoroughly?
“And his skin has turned the color of paste,” Elyn shares, “and his eyes change from blue to lavender to no color at all.”
“And there’s this glow that emanates from him now,” I add. “Like the light in an underwater cave. Watery and…”
Malik Sindire studies the drawing in worried silence.
Elyn finally takes a long swig from her glass. The old Elyn’s dead and gone.
“And this marking faded,” Malik Sindire says, “right after Celedan’s destruction? And then it returned and spread?”
“It’s now up to here.” Elyn points to her wrist bone.
“And according to Agon the Kindness,” Malik Sindire says, “Selenova at her fullest will galvanize the mark’s full power?”
“Yes.”
“Did he tell you why?”
We both shake our heads. “Do you know the reason?” Elyn asks.
Malik Sindire looks up at us, his face flushed. “Linionium,” he declares. “It must be.”
“The mallet that Agon used to destroy Celedan Docci was made of linionium,” I say.
“Correct.” Malik Sindire shakes his head. “The ink used in Jadon Rrivae’s marking was infused with linionium, which derives from the very element Supreme used to create the first realm. That ink is indestructible.”
“Even against our swords?” Elyn asks.
“Catherite,” Malik Sindire says, “was the second element that created the first realm, and the metal used by the Yeaden to craft the weapons of the gods. Not linionium. And there’s a reason: only linionium can destroy linionium.”
“But what if we were to forge weapons from linionium to counteract the linionium in Danar Rrivae’s amulet or in Jadon’s marking?” Elyn asks.
I press my fingers against my forehead. “Forging one sword of linionium can take half an age,” I say. “It’s unforgiving. Willful. Only the hottest fire on Linione Realm can coax it to bend. There’s no time to forge linionium blades.”
Elyn crumples back into her chair. “So we’re gonna die.”
Malik Sindire gasps. “Giving up already, Lady Fynal? The greatest battles don’t happen only on battlefields. I’m not concerned with facing the traitor with blades and spells. What’s most worrisome is…” He picks up Elyn’s drawing of Jadon’s tattoo. “The linionium ink used to create this beautiful mark…makes him the most dangerous, most powerful weapon in the realm.”
The old man peers at Elyn and then at me. “Destroying Celedan Docci simply transferred his linionium to the closest source of power.”
“Are you saying that Celedan was made of linionium?” I ask, brows furrowed.
“Come with me.” Malik Sindire leads Elyn and me to his office, a dim space with true walls of stone rather than glass. The only illumination here comes from a single candle on his desk and a few shafts of pale light from the narrow skylight.
We stand at his desk covered with scrolls and ink-stained quills. The air smells of aged paper and incense; the walls are lined with shelves filled with books, faintly pulsing crystals, small glass vials filled with mysterious liquids, and artifacts that gleam with a light all their own.
The Dindt opens a thick, brown, leather-bound book with a cover embossed in intricate symbols faded from constant touch. The paper within the tome is aged, thin, and fragile. The ink, though, has remained dark and sharp, and the text is written in fine, precise script. These words will survive even after the parchment disintegrates.
The pages are also filled with vibrant and detailed sketches of gods, spirits, and creatures from throughout the Aetherium. Some of the beings drawn here are graceful, their forms almost ethereal, while others are terrifying, with jagged, inhuman features and wings that span two pages. It’s strange how the eyes of these drawings seem to watch us as we peer at them. These lines and arcs make the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
Malik Sindire continues to flip through the pages of this odd book. Each time he turns a page, I shiver. That naperone with its crocodile-like scales and lion-like head looks like it could step off of its page and into this room.
Uneasy, I comment, “Any minute now, I’d expect to see our faces in this book.”
Elyn snorts.
“Oh, you’re in here somewhere,” Malik Sindire says absently.
