Chapter 45
“You gave her what!?” Sebastian’s shout filled the relic workshop. “That’s it. That’s it. You’ve actually gone and lost your damn mind. Why on earth would you give her Sixth Sense?”
“I’m inclined to agree with Bas,” Edmund muttered, bending over his workbench with a pair of pliers. He was fiddling with an antique necklace.
This was more or less the reaction Will had expected.
“I didn’t give it to her,” he said. “It’s on loan. I’ll take it back when she’s safe.”
That didn’t placate Sebastian.
“You are blinded by her, Will. Amaya puts out one time, and now—”
“Watch it,” Will gritted through his teeth. “You’re overreacting.”
“You gave her a ring!”
“It’s not an engagement ring.”
“No. It’s much worse than that.”
Will inhaled deeply, trying to keep his cool. He understood Sebastian’s concerns—he did. The last time he’d been captivated by a woman, she’d tried to cut Hellsgate from his arm.
But Amaya Sinclair wasn’t Emelie Hawk. She wasn’t using him or manipulating him. She wanted a life with him, and he wanted one with her. Whatever that looked like.
“Amaya is part of the crew. She’s one of us now,” Will said.
“Like hell she is,” Sebastian argued. “Will, listen. I get you two have something special, and I’m not saying you don’t deserve a .
. . release, every so often. Maker knows you need it.
But giving up Sixth Sense is crossing a line.
You’re a Sky Lord. You have obligations—a reputation to uphold.
Not to mention some really fucking bad enemies.
And let’s face it, without Sixth Sense, you’d be dead a hundred times over. Nobody even wants Amaya dead.”
“I know, but—”
“What’s going to happen when Graven shows up again? Because you and I both know he will.”
“Bas—”
“I’ll tell you what’ll happen. You’ll die, the rest of us will die, and then he’ll take Amaya and do whatever the hell he wants with her, because putting Sixth Sense on her finger is like giving a pigeon a gun!”
“Are you two finished?” Edmund cut in, lifting his head. “I have some progress to report.”
“Yes, we’re finished,” Will said, eyeing Sebastian. He would not be entertaining this conversation a moment longer.
“Great.” Edmund stood up straight, gesturing to the necklace he’d been working on. “I figured we swap out one pendant for another. What do you think?”
Will peered at the amulet—a tarnished silver filigree wrought from delicate gears encased a smoky boneglass crystal, attached to a chain of blackened brass.
“From the way you described Genesis, it toes the line between organic and mechanical. Yes?” Edmund asked.
“Yes,” Will said.
“This is similar. Boneglass is a naturally occurring, yet rare substance mined on the Isles of Ithyllud.”
Sebastian shuddered, and Edmund turned to him.
“You’ve been there?”
“Aye,” Sebastian said, folding his arms. “I don’t have fond memories. The place is haunted.”
Will raised an eyebrow, disinclined to believe his friend, but Edmund nodded solemnly.
“So the stories say. Now, Hellsgate is the only other Class Four I have experience with, but it has some unique properties as well. The black steel is uncommon, for one thing—”
“I’m familiar with my own relic, Ed,” Will said. “What’s this one going to do?”
“Right.” Edmund grabbed his sketchbook, opening it to a design schematic where he’d rendered the amulet and made several notes in the margins. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’m thinking we keep it simple, considering our timeframe and how . . . risky this entire process is.”
Will nodded. “Agreed.”
“I started asking myself, what is the simplest form of power? And then it hit me—animal predators. They’re killing machines, operating on their basest instincts.
They have incredible eyesight, hearing, reflexes.
Their bodies are evolved to perfection. So what I’m thinking is we use this to turn you into an apex predator, so to speak. ”
Will didn’t dislike the sound of that. It stroked some toxic part of his ego to think of himself as the strongest, fastest, most fearsome predator in the skies.
It also brought another thought to mind.
“Hellsgate couldn’t do anything to Genesis,” he said. “With this, do you think I could just rip it out of him? With my hands?”
“Thank you for that unpleasant image, but yes, I think so. We can make that the goal.”
Will stared at the strange pendant, trying to imagine how it would feel to tear Graven apart with his bare hands. When he was done, there wouldn’t even be anything left to burn.
“Okay,” Will said. “I approve. What do you need from me?”
“Well, Pearce’s formulas indicated huge amounts of Aether.
I’ll put in everything I can now, but I’ll need to siphon the rest of it from the storm.
I’ll need a certain combination of shades to accomplish the design—and some help.
So if we can plan on taking a couple hours to do that once we arrive, that would be beneficial.
But there’s a second ingredient we’ll need as well: blood. ”
“Blood?” Will had never heard of relics being crafted with blood before, but when he thought about it, it made a nauseating sort of sense. “Blood is what binds them to the body.”
“Right. Scholars have always guessed at that, so it wasn’t a total surprise. But like the Aether component, the quantity is . . . alarming. A mere few drops won’t suffice. I think Pearce must have drawn it from himself and infused it into each relic over the course of many days.”
Pearce using vast quantities of his own blood to craft relics of unforeseen power was a chilling image. But he’d been alone.
“We have an entire crew,” Will said. “Blood isn’t an issue.”
“I don’t think we should mix blood,” Edmund said quickly.
“This experiment is volatile enough as it is, and I’d like to minimize as many variables as possible.
” He hesitated before adding, “And there’s no evidence for this, but I think that if we were to take your blood, Captain, the relic’s connection to you may be that much stronger. ”
“Sure. Fine.” Will had never considered his own blood to be a particularly high price for anything. He could make more. But there wasn’t much time; they’d be at the storm in just three days.
Rolling up his left sleeve, he extended his arm to Edmund. “Shall we get started?”