Other worlds. It seemed too vast a concept for her to grasp right now—and that was saying something, as she was presently contemplating the death of a god. She turned to her experiment. “Ready.”
“Excellent,” Raboniel said, closing the book. “Mizthla?”
Navani’s stormform guard entered the room, seeming somewhat annoyed. Though that was common for him. “Mizthla” was his singer name; he said the Alethi had called him Dah. A simple glyph instead of a true name, because it was easier to remember. Perhaps if she had lived her entire life called something because of its utility, Navani would have shared his disposition.
She presented him with the fabrial, which was … well, not a true fabrial. The housing was a mere coil of copper wires around some gemstones. Raboniel knew a method of changing the polarity of a magnet, a process involving the lightning channeled from a stormform. Captive lightning seemed to have boundless potential applications, but Navani kept herself focused—maybe the polarity-swapping process would also work on gemstones filled with Voidlight.
Navani and Raboniel left the room, as the lightning could be unpredictable. “Remember,” Navani said on her way out, “only a tiny release of energy. Don’t melt the coils this time.”
“I’m not an idiot,” the Regal said to her. “Anymore.”
Outside, Navani glanced down the hallway—lined with boxes of equipment, some hiding her traps—toward the shield around the Sibling. It seemed darker inside than before.
She and Raboniel avoided the topic. Working closely together did not make them allies, and both recognized it. In fact, Navani had been trying to find a way to hide future discoveries from Raboniel, if she made any.
Lightning flashed in the room, then Mizthla called for them. They hurried in as he set the coiled-up fabrial on the desk. It was likely still hot to the touch, so Navani gave it a few minutes, despite wanting to rip the gemstones out immediately to inspect the result.
“I have noticed something in your journals,” Raboniel said as the two of them waited. “You often remark that you are not a scholar. Why?”
“I’ve always been too busy to engage in true scholarship, Ancient One,” Navani said. “Plus, I don’t know that I have the mind for it; I’m not the genius my daughter is. So I’ve always seen it as my duty to grant patronage to true scholars, to publicize their creations and see them properly encouraged.”
Raboniel hummed a rhythm, then picked up the fabrial with the copper coiling it. The metal burned her fingers, but she healed from it. “If you are not a scholar, Navani,” she said, “then I have never met one.”
“I admit that I have trouble accepting that, Ancient One. Though I’m pleased to have fooled you.”
“Humility,” Raboniel said. “It’s not a Passion my kind often promote. Would it help you believe if I told you that you no longer have to use titles when speaking to me? Your discoveries so far are enough to recommend you as my equal.”
This seemed an uncommon privilege. “It does help, Raboniel,” Navani said. “Thank you.”
“Thanks need not be provided for something self-evident,” Raboniel said, holding up the fabrial. “Are you ready?”
Navani nodded. Raboniel pulled the gemstones out from within the coil, then inspected them. “The Voidlight seems unchanged to me,” she said.
Navani hadn’t expressly told Raboniel she was hunting for anti-Voidlight. She shrouded her quest in many different kinds of experiments—like this one, where she explained she simply wanted to see if Light responded to exposure to lightning. She suspected that Raboniel suspected, however, that Navani was at least still intrigued by the idea of anti-Light.
Navani sprinkled some of the black sand on the tabletop, then placed the gemstone in the center, measuring the strength of the Investiture inside. But because the air didn’t warp around this gemstone, she secretly knew her experiment had failed. This was not anti-Voidlight. She made a note in her log. Another failed experiment.
Raboniel hummed a rhythm. A regretful one? Yes, that was what it seemed to be. “I should return to my duties,” she said, and Navani could pick out the same rhythm in her voice. “The Deepest Ones are close to finding the final node.”
“How?” Navani asked.
“You know I can’t tell you that, Navani.” Though she had spoken of leaving, she remained sitting. “I’m so tired of this war. So tired of capturing, killing, losing, dying.”
“We should end it then.”
“Not while Odium lives.”
“You’d actually kill him?” Navani asked. “If you had the chance?”
Raboniel hummed, but looked away. That humming is … embarrassment? Navani thought. She recognizes she’s lied to me, at least by implication. She doesn’t truly want to kill Odium.
“When you were hunting the opposite of Voidlight, you didn’t want to use it against him,” Navani guessed. “You teased me with the idea, but you have another purpose.”
“You learn to read rhythms,” Raboniel said, standing up.
“Or I simply understand logic.” Navani stood, and took Raboniel’s hands. The Fused allowed it. “You don’t have to kill the Sibling. Let’s find another path.”
“I’m not killing the Sibling,” Raboniel said. “I’m … doing something worse. I’m unmaking the Sibling.”
“Then let’s find another path.”
“You think I haven’t searched for one already?” She removed her hands from Navani’s, then picked up and proffered their notebook, the one where they logged their experiments. Rhythm of War, they called it. Odium and Honor working together, if only for a short time.
“I’ve run some experiments on the conjoined rubies you created—the ones of different sizes,” Raboniel said. “I think you’ll like the implications of what I’ve discovered; I wrote them in here earlier. This might make moving your enormous sky platforms easier.”
“Raboniel,” Navani said, taking the notebook. “Negotiate with me, help me. Let’s join forces. Let’s make a treaty, you and I, ignoring Odium.”
“I’m sorry,” the Fused said. “But the best chance we have of ending this war—barring a discovery between us—is for my kind to control Urithiru. I will finish my work with the Sibling. Ultimately, we are still enemies. And I would not be where I am—able to contemplate a different solution—if I were not fully willing to do what has been asked of me. Regardless of the cost, and regardless of the pain it causes.”
Navani steeled herself. “I had not thought otherwise, Lady of Wishes. Though it leaves me sorrowful.” On a whim, she tried humming to the Rhythm of War. It didn’t work—the rhythm required two people in concert with one another.
In return, however, Raboniel smiled. “I would give you something,” she said, then left.
Confused, Navani sat at the table, feeling tired. These days of furious study were catching up to her. Had it been selfish to spend so much time pretending to be a scholar? Didn’t Urithiru beg for a queen? Yes, it would be wonderful to find a power to use against Odium, but … did she really think she could solve such a complex problem?