Free The Nemesis Blade by Elaina J Davidson

nodding.
    “Colour,” he
muttered.
    Frowning, he
moved his finger along layer after layer, then paused. His eyes
closed again and this time, Jonas knew, he attempted to find the
marker. Long, tense moments ticked by and then those eyes opened.
He touched twice and rose, paper in hand.
    Passing it
over, he said, “Two markers. Either there is a divergence I am
unaware of at this point or I did not note the real marker too
well. Apologise to your brother, for I ask twice as much of him
now. As to the world? Luvanor, Sanctuary or Valaris.” A grim smile.
“Again, apologies. If I uncover something to point more
specifically, I shall let you have it.”
    “Of course, my
Lord.”
    Torrullin
nodded and left.
    Jonas looked
at the drawing in his hands. It was like looking at the rock
itself. Every shadow was there, every curl and dip in the layering,
every shade and nuance of colour, and two layers instantly caught
the eye. One below the other. He drew breath, rolled the paper and
left Grinwallin.
    He understood
now how real and intricate the task was - not only for him, but for
every member of the team.

Chapter
8
     
    When a team
functions in tandem, it is an effective tool.
    ~ Book of
Sages
     
     
    Valaris
     
    F uma and Amunti commenced the search for the source of
the rumours in Galilan, capital city of Valaris.
    The reason for
this was the Farmer’s Union conference between Valarian farmers and
Beacon Farm’s representatives, among them Kris Westlake.
    They made an
appointment with the Electan, the human leader of Valaris, and were
shown in as they arrived.
    The governing
of Valaris was organised from a grand old building near the river
Galilan and was a statement in subdued and beautiful style. The
Electan’s office was on the third floor and was simple and inviting
in wood and glass, a soft green carpet underfoot. A cottage-style
window overlooked the river below.
    The Electan
was in middle years, mild-mannered, clever and decisive. He worked
well with the council of Elders in ruling Valaris for both Valarian
and Valleur. Soon he would rule with a new Vallorin, and it was
hoped the status quo would not be significantly altered.
    His name was
Isaiah Kronig.
    He rose as
Fuma and Amunti were shown in, a quizzical expression on his face.
A hand extended in welcome.
    “I do not
believe I have had the pleasure before today. I am Isaiah Kronig,
but please call me Isaiah.”
    His gaze
rested a mite longer on Fuma.
    Black men were
not unknown as visitors on Valaris, but Fuma was the first black
man this Electan had personally encountered.
    Fuma gripped
the proffered hand. “I am Fuma of the Deorc and this is Amunti of
the Drinic.” Amunti had no clear race name, but evolved on the
homeworld of the ancient Drinic; Torrullin declared him as Drinic,
it being simply a matter of timing.
    Isaiah’s eyes
widened as he shook Amunti’s hand as well. “Kaval?”
    “Indeed,”
Amunti responded. “We are on a mission for Elixir.”
    Isaiah paled.
“Oh, dear Aaru, do not tell me trouble heads for Valaris
again.”
    Fuma smiled.
“No, Electan Isaiah. We merely seek your permission to enter the
Farmer’s Conference. There is a Beaconite among the delegates we
wish to speak with.”
    A puzzled
smile. “Farmer’s Conference?”
    Amunti
grinned. “An Electan cannot keep track of every meeting. Your
farmers meet with Beacon Farm over genetically engineered grain.
Vall Peninsula, we believe.”
    “Genetically
engineered grain?” Isaiah repeated and then, “We do not agree with
altered substances. Vall, you say?” He pursed his lips and left
them to return to his seat behind his desk. “Please, do sit. How do
you know this is happening?”
    “The Valla
heirs informed their grandfather,” Fuma said, “and he, in turn,
informed us.”
    “Ah,” Isaiah
murmured, his face clearing. “And Elixir is concerned over
genetically interfered grain?”
    Amunti
laughed. “Now we know how you feel about it. Others say
‘engineered’,