AraRaash opened his eyes.
That was unusual for several reasons. For one thing, AraRaash didn't need sleep. Faleast was still too attached to human behavior to properly use that quirk of kandra physiology, but AraRaash had perfected it, letting him control their shared bones while Faleast's mind slumbered. For another thing, he was pretty sure that when the blast had happened Faleast was in control and AraRaash had been delegated to brain-cleaning duty. Something about not stabbing anyone on this highly-Invested ship and after the glorious victories on Sel and First of the Sun.
But now AraRaash was in control. And Faleast was... still there, but distant.
Oh, and he had half an access panel fused to his arm.
AraRaash tapped a bit of gold, restoring the burned bits of flesh, then simply slammed his arm into the ground to knock off the shards.
The arm grew red again.
Faleast opened his eyes. He was on the ground again, but in... a completely different spot than he'd thought he'd been flying towards.
Come on, I need that brain of yours. The Dahkor isn't working.
Faleast sighed, staring at the chaos they'd caused. While the sensitive equipment in the walls seemed fine, the panel itself had been ripped from its hinges, taking a significant amount of hinge along with it. There was then a rather large dent in the floor.
He smirked. "It seems to be working perfectly fine to me," he said. "I doubt even a Pewterarm could damage that floor. It's pure titanium."
You know what I mean. The bone's magic triggers whenever I try anything remotely requiring strength, and then it overdoes it. We're lucky nobody saw.
"We're lucky it didn't kill us both," Faleast whispered. "I told you we shouldn't have brought the full set with us. We need time to test it, time to figure out its limits and its deeper abilities. All we know is that it's Fjordell, its bone-related, and that it's either so strange or so evil that no text in Elantris or Silverlight ever mentioned it. We only know what it's called because of Wyrn's slip."
All the duralumin spikes are in place. They're Connected to Fjordell and the Dahkor monastary better than anyone save that gragdet. There's no reason for it not to be working.
"Maybe the HI is interfering. Or maybe the bones aren't made to have an off switch. They just... are. Like a Blessing instead of Allomancy."
He reached into his bag. "Let's be careful for now. Don't overexert. This is a ship in the future - the Dahkor might be more well known here."
"I just don't know if that's good or bad for us."
He pulled out a box. A Walki-Talki, or something. It didn't walk like it was supposed to, but it worked fairly well as a spanreed for voices.
"This is Faleast; I found the problem with the door. Looks like sabotage."