My anger had increased the longer I spoke with Brianna. Anger tinged with worry and fear. Freeing Cedric, Irvin, Lohne, and Uron wasn’t going to be a simple matter of asking nicely. Queen Mab had always been a petty ruler, quick to action, action often based on anger and jealousy.

Taking deep even breaths, I attempted to calm down. But my anger would not be contained. I wanted to destroy something. A King, a King that meant to rule well, had to place the well-being of his people first. That I was powerless for the moment only fed the fuel of my anger.

I was past the stage where I could not control my powers or auras, so I wasn’t leaking bits of magic as I reflected on what Brianna had said. Still, sometimes action was needed. A way to shout, to give voice to the unfairness. Instead of letting my anger and power rage out of control, I embraced the icy frigidity of Cyronax.

The ability to dissociate me from my emotions. And because I didn’t want to damage those around me, I funneled that intensity of that frigidity into the waterfalls that cascaded past the mines entrance and the headwaters of the river that fed the Kelpie home lake.

I cycled at a fiendish rate, venting my emotions in a way that was safe and satisfying. The waters responded in the only way possible when subjected to absolute zero temperatures. They froze. An ever-growing block of ice that radiated from the base of the falls and grew both upwards and downstream.

It may have been the first time ever that the falls were silenced. As water hardened and expanded, claiming more absorbing more until a giant iceberg had formed where the falls had once existed. The river, no longer being sustained from the falling waters also fell under the power of Cyronax. A lake of ever-growing ice flowing downstream.

The area outside the falls had been as tamed and built up as the tunnel system behind. The most notable addition was about a half-mile downstream. A jetty had been created that allowed boats to dock. At the moment there were two boats using the jetty. Both more barge than anything else. They certainly would not win any speed contests. They were utilitarian and functional, and I doubted any of the Seelie would deign to ride.

As the ice crept ever closer, the waters cracking and popping those barges were lifted, oddly protruding from the glistening perfection of ice and tide. They looked like ships in a bottle, posed on waves frozen in time.

Seeing the few people on those barges clamoring for safety, a means to escape the creeping ice, I finally released the last of my anger and withdrew my power, allowing the water to begin the arduous task of melting, breaking from Winter’s grasp and returning to the full flower of spring.

“Think it’s safe to skate on?” One of the Abhaic joked.

“Only one way to find out,” I suggested. Grabbing the Abhac by the back of his jacket I spun quickly, building up momentum before I flung the inquisitive creature. The young man slid hundreds of feet before coming to rest. His shouts of indignation met by loud boisterous catcalls and cheers from the rest of the watching Abhaic.

Cheers, that were followed by childish glee as Abhac tossing became sport and bets and wagers were made on who could toss who the farthest. I laughed along with the rest, the respite from anger and worry liberating.

“King Teigh?” Duchess Wynne said. The joy and release I was experiencing vanishing as if I were freed from enchantment. A fleeting bit of insanity dispelled by the somber reality of the moment.

My first concern, logistics.

I had over fifty people that needed transportation, with no way to gather mounts in this remote location. Which meant freeing those barges from the ice that trapped them and riding them downriver.

I was not so proud that I would forget about my friends in order to maintain and worry about my dignity. That was a strange feeling, realizing that I thought of them not as Vassals or retainers, but as friends. I’m not sure when that happened, but some of the logic and reasoning behind my actions before the Dungeon delve were spotty.

The memories were there but they were behind a veil of fog, and not worth the effort it would take to pierce that obstruction at present. I would make the attempt, perhaps, once I’d rescued my friends, but for now, focusing on those fading memories and decisions simply didn’t have the immediacy that returning to Blayney’s herd, and discussing events with him did.

I could have used my M-AI to contact him or Una, but I thought this discussion should be conducted face to face. His son, whom he had entrusted to me, allowed to be adopted to my House, was paying the consequence for my actions. He deserved enough respect to allow him to shout and rant in person.

The M-AI was too impersonal a device, even though it did allow full holographic projections to be displayed. Sometimes, to really sink your teeth into the viscera of events, the unbridled reality of an experience, you needed all your senses. They validated and gave a sense of immediacy and substance to the events.

Leroy pointed out the processing station, a small building located directly adjacent to the mine's entrance. Satisfied he had fulfilled his responsibilities, he shouted at the playing Abhaic to return to the mine.

I wondered at the placement of the building, it seemed more sensible to have built near the jetty where barges docked. My confusion was dispelled once we approached and I saw the inner workings. One of the Abhaic was processing the day's proceeds. A bag of holding was emptied at a steady rate, into a machine that had been enchanted to separate ore, gems, and waste products. The results were cataloged, weighed, and sorted for further distribution.

The mine manager would then bargain price. Still, with the material being able to be held in bags of holding, I didn’t understand the need for such large barges further down the river. It would make sense if they were filled with bulk material.

“Any Silinium today, Ruel?” I heard the mine manager ask the Abhac, his question adding to my confusion. Why wouldn’t the Silinium have been in the bag of holding that was just sorted.

“I have a small piece,” Ruel answered. “The Mother Node was restless today, it made growing seedstock almost impossible.” Explaining why his haul was negligible, he reached inside a backpack and plucked out a piece of Silinium about the size of a grape.

“I wonder why he didn’t store that in his bag of holding,” I said my question garnering the attention of the two who had been engaged in negotiations.

“It’s because Silinium has certain properties very like those of living things. If you put it in a bag of holding, it becomes useless. It loses the unique characteristics that allow it to hold a charge and channel magic.”

That made no sense, I had stored dozens of Silinium seeds in my Ring of Hidden Depth. They had been perfectly fine when I’d planted them on Earth. The Silinium I’d used when crafting the alter as responsive as I’d been led to believe it would be.

Perhaps it was another unique feature of the ring. It allowed me to transport and store living matter. It made sense. When I used it to train or craft spells, I entered the space the ring contained with no ill effects.

“Caraid? Do I physically transition into the Ring of Hidden Depths when I use it for meditation and training?” I asked. I had always assumed it was my soul or astral body that entered the ring, but maybe that wasn’t the case.

[Of course. How else would your body learn the muscle memory of the skills you are practicing or create the magic channels and conduits you are forming.] He answered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He wasn’t laughing at me, I thought, not in the least. And I didn’t hear a snicker or snort from him either.

Fine. He was right, I should have realized that was the case.

“I wonder why no one has asked me or been concerned while I was gone? I’ve done this openly, training Cyronax Aura, I kept transiting in and out of the ring. Testing the aura and working under the assumption I needed to enter the physical world in order to create the conduits I was building to channel that aura.”

“You might have mentioned something when I spent hours needlessly entering and exiting the ring!” I complained. And it was a valid complaint, I was not whining or embarrassed at my naivety.

[I could have,] he said outright laughing at me now. [But the extra practice didn’t hurt or really add to the time it took you to be comfortable with the new Magic.]

[And the reason no one has mentioned or asked where you went is another feature of the Ring. It creates an illusion, a doppelganger of your body when you transition inside.]

“So that Universe that exists within the confines of the Ring, that Cosmic display I experienced when guided by that entity, those are not spiritual representation, but a physical manifestation of reality and confined personalities?”

[Yes and no. Some of it is an illusion. It’s hard to tell what is real and not once you enter the Ring. But those physical hits you take when training weapons really happen, those aren’t an illusion. The most efficient way to improve weaponry skills and defense is through that pain.]

[As for the things you saw when meditating, those are most likely illusion and array constructs created to expedite the process.]

It was good to know more about the Ring's real functionality. It might come in handy at some point. I still wanted to keep the Ring’s secrets to myself. Even if we were bound and no one or nothing could steal it. It was a powerful artifact and just because it couldn’t be done, didn’t mean some idiot wouldn’t make the attempt.

The mine manager and the Abhac were finally done with their haggling. He was about to return to his office, ignoring my presence as well as the fifty or so others that had been waiting patiently for him to conclude business. Any other time I would probably have thought his attitude amusing. But I wasn’t in the mood for slights or petty bureaucrats abusing their power to make a point.

“Duchess Wynne,” I drawled, “I have yet to see your abilities in action. How long do you think it would take you to completely disassemble this building and the equipment used for sorting? And by disassemble, I mean nothing but the raw materials remaining.”

Identifying the Duchess by name probably had more to do with his abrupt change in attitude than the threat of destroying his building or machinery had. A Duchess of any species was a power. That he hadn’t taken the time to find out who we were was idiotic. Even for a Seelie that believed in their own superiority, it was a mistake to not find out who you were dealing with before insulting someone that may just be powerful enough to level a city. And a Seelie that had been stationed in this back end of nowhere, said much about his ability.

His obsequiousness after he realized we might be more than he had assumed was as distasteful as his dismissive contempt for us had been earlier. And during that fawning, I felt the slightest pulse of perception as he finally sent a magic burst to identify who we were.