Arturo thought as he strode down the corridors of his family’s airship. Wires ran along the walls on either side, conduits pulsed with mana, and sigil grids formed intricate patterns overhead.

  He’d always preferred this aesthetic to the newer models with their sleek white walls and polished floors. This was an , not a luxury hotel. Why was everyone so obsessed with covering the best parts?

  Specifically, this was a 810 Sanako Model G7 with twin thrusters that could push mag-2 at full burn. The ship originally belonged to Arturo’s grandfather before it passed to his father and uncles. Now, the whole family took turns depending on who needed it.

  The scent hit Arturo’s nostrils just before he reached the kitchen—spicy beef sizzling with peppers and onions. His mother stood over the counter, rolling dozens of flour tortillas over its stainless steel surface. His father flipped the meat and vegetables on the flattop grill behind her.

  “Hey.” Arturo glanced back and forth between his parents. “You guys know where Lena’s hiding? She’s not in her cabin.”

  “Workshop,” his father replied without looking up from the grill. “She’s playing with those crystals from the Shadow Garden.”

  Arturo thanked his parents and headed back out the door.

  “Dinner’s in fifteen minutes!” his mother hollered after him.

  “We’ll be there!” Arturo’s boots clanked against the metal grating as he doubled back toward the stern of the ship.

  He stepped into a room that smelled like machine oil and fire mana. The newer airships used directional gravity fields to get around, but this was all classic propulsion. The port and starboard walls curved inward, following the shape of the twin thrusters that dominated the stern. Tools hung from magnetic strips along the curved surfaces, covering every inch of free space.

  Lena Cavaco sat hunched over a metal table in the center of the room, with dozens of small crystals spread on the tray in front of her. Some were as small as coins, while others were bigger than her fists. Each one glowed with pale blue mana that danced beneath the surface. They reminded him of Etherite, but not nearly as powerful.

  Apparently, Clan Trengsen had spent years collecting these crystals from the Shadow Garden. Arturo had examined them back at the fortress, but he hadn’t learned anything worthwhile. Neither had Kenzo or his students.

  He stepped around the table and caught a glimpse of Lena’s face. Her remaining eye was closed, as if she were deep in meditation. Cadrian music played softly from her media player—some band from Vaslana he didn’t recognize.

  Arturo cleared his throat

  The woman's eye snapped open. “Oh, hello.” She reached out to her media player and paused the song. “Arturo, right?”

  “That’s me.” Arturo offered his wrist, and she gave it a gentle squeeze. They’d seen each other around the Darklight’s estate, but they’d never spoken alone. She was always too busy with the important members of his team.

  “Am I in your way?” Lena glanced around the workshop uncertainly. “I can move.”

  “No, no. Came to see you, prima.”

  “Me?” She blinked in surprise.

  “Yeah.” Arturo plopped down on the padded stool opposite her, resting his elbows on the table’s steel surface. “You and the crystals.” He gestured down at the table between them. “How’s it going with those, anyway?”

  “Interesting,” she replied. “I’ve heard of crystals like these, but I’ve never seen one up close.”

  “Wait a second—you know what these are?”

  “Yes. Back on the Solidor’s homeworld, Etherite fell from the sky and buried itself deep within their planet’s surface. This created places of power. Caverns with veins of glowing crystals that grew from the walls and ceiling.” She trailed off and nodded toward the tray. “Crystals like these. ”

  “How do you know they’re the same crystals?” Arturo asked.

  “Each one contains faint traces of Angelic mana.”

  “Kenzo’s students never mentioned that.”

  “I wouldn’t expect them to notice,” she replied. “It’s a small amount, like I said. And Angelic mana is surprisingly mundane on its own.”

  “So what’s your take?”

  She considered that for several long moments. “What do you know about Etherite?”

  “It’s structural mana in crystal form,” he replied. “People say it’s the soul of a dead Angel. Or . . . a piece of an Angel’s soul?”

  She nodded. “Do you believe in the Angels?”

  A year ago, Arturo might have said no. But he’d seen the Solidors fight Storm’s Eye back in Koreldon City. They’d wielded multiple aspects, catching the spirit’s attacks and hurling them back across the skyline. No one else had come close to matching the spirit’s power that day. Not even Prime Minister Salerian or Kalden’s father.

  That proved there were things in this world he couldn’t explain.

  “Yeah,” he replied. “I wouldn’t call myself religious or anything. But all it takes is one person to advance past the Mystic realm.”

  Kalden’s father had mentioned a hefty price tag for that advancement—something about destroying a whole planet and consuming the people's souls. Then again, he hadn’t bothered to explain how he knew that.

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  Another nod from Lena. “If Etherite is a soul, then I believe these lesser crystals are like channels.”

  “Channels that grow in solid rock?”

  “It’s only a theory,” she admitted. “Aeons don’t even have channels like us. And we’ve seen no evidence of Etherite changing or growing on its own. It must be a slow process if it’s true. Hundreds of years. Maybe thousands.”

  Arturo turned one of the smaller crystals over in his hand, watching the pale blue light dance beneath its glassy surface. “So . . . Ethersmithing. How’d you get started with that?”

  Lena gave him a long, searching glance.

  “Sorry,” Arturo said. “Is that too personal? You can tell me to screw off.”

  “No.” She relaxed back in her chair. “It’s fine. I just didn’t expect it.” Her eyes scanned the workshop as she gathered her thoughts. “I always liked working with my hands. Carpentry, jewelry, engineering, . . . I dabbled in all sorts of things as a girl.”

  Arturo chuckled. “No wonder you fit in with my parents.”

  “We do get along quite well.” She returned his smile. “My parents joined the Church of Solidor when I was young. But I wasn’t much of a fighter.”

  “I know the feeling,” Arturo muttered.

  “You held your own against those mana spawn in Koreldon City.”

  Arturo shrugged a shoulder. “I pulled a few triggers . . . tossed a few grenades.” He knew that technically counted as combat, but it didn’t always feel that way. Not when his teammates were living legends.

  “I’ve never fought ,” Lena said. “I’ve never thrown a punch, much less an offensive Missile. I’ve held a weapon, but never fired one.”

  “Guess you’ve got me beat,” Arturo said.

  “My parents were fanatics,” she continued. “When the Church needed volunteers for the Aeon ritual, they offered me up like a prayer. They told me I’d change the world. I was a glorified lab rat.”

  Arturo winced as he remembered her damaged soul. “No offense, but I’m surprised you stuck around after that.”

  She shot him a pointed look. “Did you forget where Elend found me?”

  “With the Dragonlord. But I always figured you were there as a spy.”

  She laughed at that. “Valeria Zantano interrogated me quite thoroughly before I joined. I never could have fooled a Master like her.” Lena fidgeted with her black dragon pendant. “I learned some valuable lessons in that time. In a strange way, my parents were right. Without my sacrifice, Lady Solidor might have failed her ritual with Akari and Kalden. And I still believe those two can change the world.”

  “Still,” Arturo said. “You never got to make anything with Etherite?”

  A sad smile touched the corners of her lips. “Unfortunately, no. It’s been years since I’ve made anything worthwhile.” Her smile faded, and her eyes took on a distant expression. “Even before I became an Ethersmith.”

  “Well, that’s depressing.” Arturo couldn’t leave his workshop for more than a few days without getting antsy. That was another reason he’d avoided the Shadow Garden. Kalden and Zukan planned to spend several months down there, cut off from civilization.

  “Even my teacher never made anything,” Lena said. “But I’ve seen the work of Lady Solidor.”

  “Right, those green crystal arrows.” Arturo paused, trying to sound casual. “What about Thane Solidor’s Veilcord? Did she make that, too?”

  He’d been curious about that weapon since the Battle of Koreldon City, and his curiosity had only grown these past few days in North Shoken. From what Arturo could tell, the North Shokenese entered the three War Gardens and earned these weapons through a mysterious ritual.

  The real question was, who made the Veilcords in the first place? Who made the rituals, and the Gardens themselves? This was a different sort of power. Not physical strength or battle prowess, but the power of creation.

  Lena gave a knowing nod, as if this explained Arturo’s sudden interest. “Veilcords are fascinating, aren’t they? But I can only speculate how they’re made. Even if Ethersmithing plays a role, it’s just one piece of the puzzle.”

  Arturo drew in a deep breath. “This might sound crazy, but hear me out. What if you taught me some Ethersmithing?”

  Lena bit her lip, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “You’re an Artisan.”

  “Oh.” Arturo waved a hand. “I know it’s too late to become an Aeon like my friends.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “Then how do you intend to work with Etherite? You realize how this works, don’t you?”

  He nodded. “Aeons have Etherite souls. These break down and reshape all forms of energy outside your body. Including other Etherite.”

  This much, Arturo knew from Akari and Kalden. He also knew Etherite was much harder to reshape than other forms of mana. Lena had spent dozens of hours bonding with Elend’s crystal cuffs back in Creta. Then Relia had done the same thing before her advancement in Vordica.

  “But how much do we really know about Aeons?” Arturo continued. “Etherite is bioactive, and the soul goes in your chest. But why there, specifically? Why not your arm, or your leg? How deep does it have to be?”

  “The Church of Solidor has done experiments,” Lena said. “So did the people from the Solidor’s homeworld. They’ve tried dozens of methods, including surgery. Each attempt ended badly.”

  That seemed like an understatement, judging by her grim tone. Still, this seemed like unfinished business. Those experiments were a good start, but far from conclusive.

  “But what’s so special about the ritual?” Arturo asked. “Why does that work when everything else fails?”

  Lena cradled her chin as she mulled that over. “Aeons like Lord and Lady Solidor were born with these souls. They inherited them from their ancestors, along with the right conditions to accept them. Others—like your friend Relia—had the right conditions, but not the soul itself. The same was true for all those born on the Solidors’ homeworld.”

  “Sure,” Arturo said. “But what did their ancestors do?”

  “I’d suspect it was something like my own ritual. An Ethersmith but put a crystal sound inside an ordinary human.”

  “Or they did it to themselves,” Arturo said. “But there had to be a starting point, right? Some sort of Patient Zero?”

  “Unless Patient Zero was an Angel,” Lena suggested. “Or some equivalent being from a different world.”

  “Maybe,” he agreed. “But Relia’s gone through DNA testing.”

  “Really?” Lena perked up at that, her dark braids practically bouncing off her shoulders. “When?”

  “Last year. After she advanced to Artisan.”

  “No one mentioned this before.”

  “That’s because it didn’t turn up much. I mean, her DNA was different, but not different. You’d never know her grandmother came from a different planet. Besides, there’s no precedent for advancement changing a person’s DNA. As far as we know, a Mystic’s kid is no different from a Novice’s kid. No reason to think the Angels would play by different rules.”

  “I see your point.” Lena glanced down the hallway toward the cabins. “We knew the ritual would work on Relia, but we didn’t know why.”

  “Exactly.” Arturo grinned. “That’s what we need to find out. ”

  More importantly, how could Arturo use this knowledge to help himself and his teammates? Were there other ways to use Etherite and these lesser crystals? Ways that didn’t involve becoming an Aeon?

  Lena met his eyes again. “Even if I help you, this is a massive risk. There’s a good chance our research will never bear fruit. We don’t even have real Etherite to experiment on.”

  “Fine by me,” Arturo said.

  “Why?” Lena leaned forward. “Why not invest your time in a safer option?”

  He shrugged and stared down at his hands. “I was sort of a prodigy when I was younger. Got in the Artegium at fourteen. Double majored in Sigilcraft and Manatronics. Now I can barely keep up in this crazy world. Last week, my teammates were fighting Mystics. Now they’re doing these War Gardens with the best Masters on the planet.”

  “But why Ethersmithing?” Lena pressed.

  Another shrug. “Between you and these crystals, it’s the only real advantage I’ve got right now. I’m good with sigils, but won’t cut it these days. I need to double down on something if I want to stay relevant.” There was a short pause. “Besides, this sounds like a way for both of us to get what we want.

  “Which is?”

  “To build something that matters.”

  The workshop fell silent but for the distant hum of the twin thrusters.

  Finally, Lena gave a slow nod. “Then I suppose we’d better get started.”