Page 110 of Amethyst and Iron
I was expecting there to be people milling about inside, just like everywhere else we went in the Shadow Tunnels.
“I’ve had them clear out so that we are afforded privacy,” my dad said, reading me well, as had come to be the way with him.
“Privacy for what?”
“For what I have to show you, of course.”
“And that might be?”
“You’ll see.”
“Shit, you’re a real fan of cryptic, aren’t you?”
“There is a right time and a place for everything. Patience is—
“A virtue?”
“A necessity. Strategically sound. Highly advisable.”
“Ah, got it,” I teased. “Locking that pearl of wisdom away as we speak.”
A chuckle escaped him. “I have no doubt. In spite of your sarcasm.” He beamed out at me. “You have learned a great deal since being here. You demonstrated that during our battle in several distinct ways, and during your feed just now. Do you feelit? The blood humming through your veins, energizing you, yet also calming you in an inexplicably satiating way?”
“Yeah. That’s the perfect way to put it, actually.” I grinned out at him, barely believing it as the words left me, “I want to do it again, experience it more… just like that.”
“Then I will ensure feeders are brought to you when you take your leave. Until I am able to teach you how to cultivate your own in a safe and secure manner.”
I started. “Take my leave? You’re… you want me to go?”
“On the contrary. I wish for you to remain right here by my side. However, I am sure that you will wish to leave once I show you what I intend to. You will be pulled back to them.” Off my look, he said, “Those whom you love so dearly, my son.”
“I don’t understand.”
He smiled sadly. “You will.”
He led me further into the space, my senses on high alert now after that hefty dose of more cryptic, my entire body tensing.
I took in the room.
Holy shit.
It was some sort of mystical forensics lab, like magic and science meshing in a weird, yet layered and highly-controlled way.
Smooth black stone walls wrapped around the space, the buzz of magic rolling through them. The outer perimeter was full of rows of white-lacquered workbenches covered with microscopes, alchemical burners, numerous vials, and calibrated measuring tools. Magically-created projection screens hovered over each station, showing real-time results for whatever was being researched—some really complicated shit was about all I could tell. I caught sight of vaults with frosted glass front compartments containing relics, shards of weapons, bottled essences of magical beings, preserved tissue even, bones. Above, a narrow mezzanine ran the perimeter, where therewere tons of bookshelves stocked to the brim, magical research manuals, grimoires, the whole nine.
“This is where we push the boundaries of what is possible, even in our world dominated by magic and supernatural beings,” Remnant told me.
“Yeah, I’m getting that. Wow.” Kind of along the lines of how I imagined the secret magical research group that Sylas was a part of being.
“Come,” he urged, gesturing to a frosted glass privacy panel over to the far left of the space.
I followed him over and choked at what I saw.
There, hovering in a blinding white field of energy was a heart—a golden, shimmering heart.
Pulsing.
Alive.
