Bliss didn’t. The Elder wall had never been so violent before, which provided interesting opportunities for observation. That was her purpose, after alclass="underline" to observe the Elders and learn what she could from them. She could never stop their plans if she didn’t know what they were.
None of the living whips struck at Bliss, even as she drew closer. They knew better.
She placed a bare hand against the sickly greenish skin of the growth. She wasn’t a Reader, but she was a Soulbound, and she could sense a few things. For one, this Elder barrier wasn’t just growing around the Emperor’s quarters—it was a part of them. Shutters had turned into eyelids, plaster into meat, support beams into bones, and paint into skin. Not all of the building had been corrupted, but enough that she worried for the structure’s stability if the Elder wall were removed.
The transformation excited Tharlos. We could redecorate the entire Capital like this…but more! We’ll go even further! Bliss’ mind filled with images of carpets like tongues, windows that bulged out into eyeballs, roof tiles sprouting hair.
That is neither positive nor constructive, Bliss chided herself. She didn’t need to dwell on Elder imagination. That way lay madness, and Bliss could only tolerate a certain threshold of madness before she had to put her foot down.
Refocusing on the building, she confirmed once again that the inside of the Elder wall was hollow. The Emperor’s quarters and all surrounding rooms should be intact, beyond the initial cocoon of growth. And there, in the belly of this newborn beast, a person was trapped.
And that was the core of Bliss’ dilemma. Who was this person? Were they a prisoner, held hostage by an Elder? Were they the mastermind behind the Elder wall’s creation? Maybe they were food, here to nourish the wall until it was no longer needed. She could be fairly certain that they weren’t using the Optasia, because they rarely moved over to that side of the room. As Bliss understood it, accessing the global amplification relays should take quite a bit of time, and her mystery guest never spent long enough close to the Optasia.
Bliss didn’t believe in luck, because whether chance outcomes were ‘good’ or ‘bad’ depended entirely on the opinions of the observer.
But in her opinion as an observer, what followed was extremely good luck.
She was just about to remove her hand from the skin of the Elder wall, her curiosity still unsatisfied, when a wave of energy passed through the air around her and entered into the Elder flesh. The wall absorbed a surge of nourishment, like a plant’s thirsty roots being washed in fresh rainwater for the first time.
The lashing tendrils withdrew, the membrane bulged outward, and Elder muscles grew stronger.
Bliss wasn’t quite delighted enough to smile, but she had to express her excitement somehow, so she clapped enthusiastically. Like a satisfied audience member at an excellent performance.
The Elder wall’s vitality wasn’t infinite, and it wasn’t coming from within. It was being sustained from without, probably calling power from elsewhere with the Optasia. It was entirely possible that there was a circle of Elder cultists somewhere in the Aion even now, dying one by one to feed their lives into the growth of this wall. Well, as far as Bliss was concerned, the world would be better off with fewer Elder worshipers in it. Even though they had, entirely on accident, given her the clue she needed.
She didn’t need to destroy the Elder wall; she had to drill through it, piercing a tunnel into its heart. It wouldn’t rejuvenate until it received another influx of vitality, which it couldn’t summon if they disconnected the Optasia. So all she had to do was pierce the hide while avoiding its attacks, bore through four or five yards of rubbery flesh, locate the Optasia in the darkness, kill the person protecting it, and remove the throne from Elder control without destroying the device itself.
Come to think of it, there were quite a lot of steps to this process. She should write them down.
No, wait! She should ask for help. That was what Alsa Grayweather would tell her to do. General Teach would probably appreciate it as well.
Pleased with herself, Bliss turned from the Elder wall and walked across the courtyard past her wounded Watchmen and Guards. Not only had she managed not to turn them into dogs, but she’d figured out the mystery of the unpleasant-looking Elder wall. It had been a good day.
She’d caught a Great Elder spying on her last night, which had been the first thing to spoil her mood. But even though it had tried to distract her, she’d managed to figure out the secret anyway.
That would show Kelarac. Him and his dreams.
“We provoked the Regents for a calculated reason,” Maxeus said, addressing the room. “We did not expect to be exposed publicly, which is a setback, but I can still handle them. Plans are in place. Meanwhile, we must act like the Regents are not a factor.”
“Then we should announce an Emperor as soon as possible,” Teach said firmly. Her eyes on Calder were stern, but at least he didn’t feel the murderous Intent that she’d shown him at every meeting in the past. That was progress.
Maxeus tightened his mask, as though adjusting it to fit a new expression. “We’ll need to do more than that. We have the military power to match any Guild except the Champions, who have thankfully remained neutral. Or possibly disbanded. Kern has been vague. However, we do not have the economic base that the Independents do. Between the Consultant’s Guild and the fortune of the alchemists, they will eventually sway the public to their side. But even if they cannot, time is still their ally. With the current lack of cooperation between Guilds, the Empire will fall apart. It’s only a matter of time.”
Cheska groaned loudly. “So we need…what? We have the better military, okay, so we attack. Scatter them. If there aren’t any more Independent Guilds, then everyone’s in favor of a new Emperor.”
“Again, public opinion must stay on our side. We need a battle, but we can’t strike first.”
Calder and Teach saw Maxeus’ point at virtually the same time, because they both sat up straight and looked at him.
“We force them to attack us,” Teach said.
“I thought that was the point of assassinating Alagaeus,” Calder said. He still couldn’t talk about it without feeling a chill; however indirectly, he had been party to the murder of an Imperial Regent. If their side didn’t win, he was going to die a traitor’s death.
Maxeus rubbed gloved hands together like a man anticipating a fine meal. “We gained several advantages from the Regent’s death, including the obvious benefits of his absence. We’ve reduced the battle capacity of the Regents by twenty-five percent, if nothing else. And I’ve proven the efficacy of a certain…pet project of mine. Besides which, even if we’re blamed for instability in the east, the fact remains that Izyria was destabilized while under the command of Alagaeus. If that doesn’t drive public opinion against the Regents, nothing will.”
“But now we need to goad the other Guilds to action,” Teach said, back on topic as usual. “Who will take the bait?”
Cheska ticked names off her fingers. “Kanatalia won’t respond to anything but a blatant attack, which defeats the purpose. The Greenwardens are too weak and too quiet. In fact, I don’t know the last time I saw a Greenwarden at all. The Consultants are too good. If they retaliated against us, no one would know. And besides, they’re still dealing with that Elder attack on their island. Which leaves the Luminians.”