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The suspended astrylite lattice had trembled with startling force above the chamber floor while senior scholars argued over pressure ratios and current strain. Then Elowynn had stepped forward, adjusted the resonance sequence herself, and little by little, the unstable structure calmed beneath her hands until only a soft hum of balanced resonance remained.
Blue-white light had spilled through the observatory chamber like captured starlight.
And everyone had been shocked into silence and stared open-mouthed.
“You should have seen Vaelor’s face,” Lora said gleefully, her heavy breathing finally calming down.
“I saw it perfectly well myself,” Elowynn quipped.
“Oh, come on! He looked like someone spit in his morning tea!”
Elowynn failed to suppress the laugh that worked its way into her chest as the image was actually quite accurate.
Master Vaelor had remained composed throughout the symposium, of course. He always remained composed. Elowynn had a personal goal to make him crack one of these suns. But she had noticed the slight tightening around his eyes as the resonance stabilized beneath her touch.
“You embarrassed half the chamber,” Lora continued happily as they began walking again, slower this time, and crossed another suspended bridge between observatory towers. “Including three Conclave masters. Honestly, I thought Archivist Relnor was going to faint.”
“I was not trying to embarrass anyone,” Elowynn said with a bit of remorse.
“Which means you weren’t even at your full potential. Disappointing,” Lora sulked.
As they walked and chatted about the latest fashions and what they were going to have for supper, Elowynn took in the city. Even after nearly an entire turning here, Veylspire still stole her breath. She had seen all the moons beneath the city skies, and each one was more beautiful than the next.
Far beneath the city, the aethercurrents hummed. She usually could feel them from even the tallest towers of the Spire. But tonight the vibration felt stronger, and Elowynn slowed her steps as she focused on them, recalling Caelyn’s mention of them at the abbey, too.
Lora slowed alongside her and studied Elowynn’s profile. “What?”
“Nothing,” Elowynn answered right away. “It is nothing.”
Lora thinned her lips, looking skeptical. “That’s what someone would say if they didn't want someone else to know that something was wrong.”
Elowynn glanced downward through the open stone archway, peering through the rain toward the lower districts hidden beneath drifting fog.
She could feel it again. The resonance beneath the city didn't sound balanced.
Most people probably heard only the steady hum of the Spire’s aethercurrents, vast and infinite beneath the mountains. But threaded beneath that harmony was something irregular—a subtle dissonance that rose and vanished too fast for her to fully grasp, like a single wrong note buried deep within a beautiful song.
Subtle and unnerving. A distant harmonic interference beneath the city.
Her fingers gripped hard along the spines of her books.
Lumenshire.
The vibrating foundations beneath the western archives, Caelyn had said.
Veylspire.
Was it the same as what he described?
The thought left a cold unease curling beneath her skin.
Before she could respond, a loud, low-toned bell rang somewhere below them.
This was no observatory bell. She had never heard this one. The sound rolled through the city once. Then again.
Lora stiffened where she stood and widened her eyes; the humor vanished from her expression so quickly it startled Elowynn.
“What is it?” she asked.
