Of Kings and Killers (Elder Empire Sea #3) - WIll Wight Page 0,85

we pull him out of that breastplate.”

Too worked up to speak, Petal pointed to the gunner.

“Well…sure, but we don’t know what long-term effects it will have on him.”

“You think they’ll be worse than instant death?”

“Well…no...”

“I called for a Pilgrim who can be trusted,” Foster said, not noticing the death glares he immediately got from the Champions down the hall. “We need Calder to survive leaving the armor, and we need his heart not to stop when the Luminian heals him. Will this do it?”

The female alchemist handed a sheet of paper to her male counterpart, and they discussed something in low tones.

Finally, she blew out her cheeks. “We’ll have to make some adjustments, and of course we can’t know if it will work. But between our stock and what Petal brought, we have enough to try.”

Petal’s heart lifted so high that she felt like she would drift off her feet. She immediately rushed over to her equipment.

“You can’t hold us accountable for what happens,” the male alchemist warned. “Petal has followed some…unorthodox pathways. This is far different from any physical augmentation elixir we make, and it’s designed to have permanent effects. We don’t know what strain it will cause on his system.”

Foster glanced around the lab. “Petal, which of these things can I use to hit him with?”

After a moment considering which equipment wouldn’t break on impact or cause him permanent injury, Petal selected a long wire brush and handed it to him.

Foster brandished it like a sword, and he actually looked threatening as he advanced on the alchemist. “Every time you make an excuse instead of working to save a man’s life, it’s five lashes.”

“I just wanted you to know,” the man muttered. “This is stressful for me too.”

But they fell into line with Petal and got to work.

It was like pulling out his own bones to get the alchemists to answer any straight question, but Foster eventually figured out that brewing the elixir would be done in a matter of hours. Developing the formula and gathering the ingredients were the time-consuming parts of the process; actually putting it together was just the final step.

So Foster had time to prepare himself for Andel’s arrival.

When the knock came at the door, he was ready. He pulled it open, revealing Andel in his spotless white suit and hat with a jewelry box in one hand and Lotta at his side.

Foster addressed the girl first. “Looks like we put the right person on the job.”

Lotta gave him a salute and then ran deeper into the house, leaving Foster to face Andel.

“How is he?” Andel asked. He sounded as unaffected as always, as though he was asking for a weather report, but Foster knew better.

“Come on in. Prying eyes outside.”

In the middle of the night, the streets were lit by sunset-orange quicklamps, and the Capital was as noisy as ever. He didn’t see the traffic that he would expect at noon, but people crouched in every doorstep and around every corner, muttering to one another and holding weapons close.

It hadn’t been so bad only an hour before. News was spreading.

Andel strode in, pulling his hat off and hooking it onto a nearby rack. “If the Independents have taken the Palace, we don’t have long before they think to look here. If they haven’t yet, we should be safe at least until tomorrow.”

“Either way, we better get working,” Foster grumbled. Andel was about to walk down the hall, where he could clearly hear the alchemists working, but Foster held out a hand to stop him.

“You know why we need you here, don’t you?”

Andel craned his neck, looking into the room where Calder lay on a bed, but he should be able to see only a pair of white-armored legs. “I understand.”

“We have to strengthen his body so he’ll survive taking the armor off. They don’t know if their potions alone can do it.”

Andel held out a jewelry box and flipped open the lid. Within was a medallion identical in shape to the one hanging on his chest: a silver sun with a white diamond at its heart. Unlike the one Andel wore, the silver of this one was tarnished, and the diamond in the center pulsed with Intent.

Foster could feel it from a pace away: this White Sun medallion yearned to right the world, to bring light and restoration to the darkest corners. It was a true Beacon, a focus for the most powerful Pilgrims.

With the Luminian Order supporting the Independents, that left very