by Trevol Swift
A cement slab big enough to host a ferryboat projected from the mountainside surrounded by smaller, natural rocks. The skiffs towed the yacht into position where lay brothers and sisters caught their mooring ropes then looped them around mooring posts. A few smaller boats for emergencies and supply runs bobbed upon the waves. Those working the lines paid no attention to crashing waves or sea spray. Within the sleeves of her robes, Jhee dug her nails into her palms every time a storm-driven surge struck the slab or strained the ropes. Her mind filled with the image of them overwhelmed and swept away. What would be worse? Screams or silence.
Mirrei and Kanto huddled against her as they approached. Shep’s reassuring hand on her shoulder blade gave her the support she needed. Stalwart, she forced her attention to the abbey itself. Antenna arrays mounted to the central spire wobbled in the high winds. Lightning flashed off the sun arrays on its roofs and those in the fields beside it. The brightness gave glimpses of the newly built, glass-domed hothouse modules. Full-sized, life-like figures made of brilliant coral lined the eaves and facade. Preservatives and arcane protections stopped the statues and famed, blood-ruby red walls and emerald green roof from bleaching over the years in the onslaught of sun and rain. Constructions hewn from similar coral to that which had scuttled their yacht. She could not help but think the First Makers wanted her here.
“What a ghastly place,” Mirrei said.
“Certainly, not what I’d call tranquil. Precisely the sort of austere place I’d expect of ascetics,” Kanto said.
Jhee swallowed hard, her stomach churning, as they sailed past the breakers. “This place boasts empire-renowned mineral springs. Very good for the health.”
“Is it truly made of coral, denbe?”
“No doubt some form of mineral encrustation subject to rapid fossilization, thus retaining its color. It becomes its own natural coral rag or coral concrete.”
Shep moved his hands to Jhee’s shoulders. “I think I rather preferred the yacht.”
Jhee raised an eyebrow. Had she been alone, she might have kissed the solid ground once they disembarked.
A stern-faced woman about Jhee’s age met them at the dock entrance. They exchanged formal gestures of greeting. “Greetings, my Lady Justicar. Welcome to Tranquility Bridge’s of the Drakists. I am the prioress. I see to the grounds and provisions. Please, pardon our delayed response. We had a tremor here. The second in as many full-months.”
Servants, laypeople, and a spattering of shabbier laborers bustled by them with produce and fresh-caught sea meat. Jhee used her siren module to make herself heard over the din.
“Thank you. I must admit to wanting to visit for some time. I corresponded with your abbess, Saheli, about acquiring some of your famous nectar wine. Is she around so that I might pay my respects?”
“Saheli passed into the Makers’ sphere some months ago.”
“My deepest regrets. Who may I ask is in charge now?”
“Pyrmo is our current abbess.”
“You seem beset by tragedies lately.”
The prioress frowned at all the baggage Jhee’s servants unloaded. “You took all this on a pleasure cruise and in a storm no less.”
“I’ve been reassigned to the capital. I thought we might make a trip of it. A tremor explains the wild wave that disabled our ship and the collapse I heard about here. The Shell Drake and the Storm Child must be restless.”
The prioress grunted. Lay brothers and sisters poured out the gate on the aperture that opened out from the bottom of the crag. They helped Jhee’s servants unload their belongings, including a litter for her marriage cohort. Fishing vessels and fisherfolk continued about their daily business with no great urgency. Few spared their entourage a glance. Not all seemed as practiced at their work. Even more lay brothers and sisters transported bundles of kelp and lettuces, sacks of grain, and crates of shore meat-producing animals such as chickens and pigs.
The milled symbol above the gate, a sword and bridge, creaked and groaned in the strong winds. While Jhee waited until everyone in her charge passed beneath it to safety, she studied the significant number of idle people with lean, hungry looks who watched their entourage pass. The gate swung closed behind her with a definitive rattle, sealing them inside. Or the world outside.
What circumstance caused an abbey named Tranquility Bridge to have a sword as its symbol? The spotty connection only allowed her to do minimal background research beyond what she already knew about the place. When her interest in healing picked up due to Mirrei’s condition, she learned of their honey nectar wine. She had always meant to attend their seminars or visit their reliquary, yet she never found the time. Since it was in her district, she always delayed it until later. Later had arrived. The First Makers’ Design be done.
“If I may, I’d like to pay my respects to your current abbess.”
“This way.”
The prioress led her to stone steps while the litter with her cohort disappeared through a passage under it. Jhee motioned for Bax to follow her and the prioress. The moment she saw the precipitous height of the abbey, she had feared for Mirrei. She insisted all three use the litter because she did not want to single her out. “Is it your order’s normal custom to see husbands and wives parted during their stay?”
“This route is far too precarious for a litter. You’ll be reunited with them in the dormitory level after your meeting with the abbess. She can explain to you more fully the rules by which we ask guests to abide.”
The prioress led the way up an interminable number of stairs with a bio-luminescent glow torch. How she wished she had joined her cohort in the litter. She wheezed. “Such a wealth of stairs. They may do me in before that.”
“Aside from the mechanical lifts and cranes for moving cargo, we don’t use most modern conveniences. Anything other would be a drain on our limited resources. As a self-sufficient order, most non-essential devices have been shut down to conserve power until the storm passes.”
“I saw your sun arrays.”
“They are our sole means of power.”
“I noticed you also possess an antenna array. I can’t seem to access anything with my conch beyond the local area. Might I be able to use your communications to contact the Central Authority to inform them of my delayed arrival and the damaged reef?”
“Reception follows the weather’s whims. We almost missed your captain’s distress call while dealing with the quake aftermath. The broadcast transmitter’s power requirements, though, are prohibitive with the overcast skies. Its usage reserved for the direst of emergencies. You may, however, ask the abbess.”
3 Echoes
Reception with the Abbess
The prioress knocked upon the door to the abbess’s quarters. Jhee took a moment to compose herself and catch her breath. The abbess welcomed her by touching their escae as if they were old friends. She gave off an odor of smudging sticks and sacral wine. If she were not so winded, Jhee might have been scandalized by such familiarity. “I am Pyrmo, the Mother of Rites for Tranquility Bridge’s.”
“Thank you for your hospitality, Abbess.”
Jhee noted the dual nature of the chambers. A cat dish despite vanishing evidence of a cat. The sounding bowl, striker, and meditations rugs she expected of such a pious individual. A low altar for burning incenses. In fact, the room emanated smudge as heavily as the occupant. A hutch desk and simple glow lamp full of parchments. Half-painted easels which had not seen use in months. Shelves of seeds and elixirs gathering dust. It bore the earmarks of the previous owner as much as the current. Pyrmo must not have felt comfortable in her position yet.
“You are most welcome, my Lady Justicar. Please, call me Pyrmo.”
“Please, I prefer simply Justicar.”
Jhee brushed at the cat hairs on her robes and sniffed a few times. She already felt her eyes watering and nose itching. Did she put her allergy medication in the items they brought from the yacht?
“Is something wrong, Justicar?”
“I wondered if there was a cat about? Mild allergy.”
“Cat? Ah, not anymore. Saheli’s cat meant very much to her. She used to feed it from her plate and let it drink from her bowl. She painted it constantly and did it in all sorts of sculpture and reliefs. It died shortly after her. They say it refused to eat out of grief. She was a true artist with a heart as much of an aesthete as an ascetic.”
“Very interesting. Died of grief, did you say?”
“Ah, very tragic as many of us loved that cat almost as much as we loved Saheli. Losing them both so closely thoroughly demoralized us. We have endeavored to carry on though. I myself was pained to have taken on the position as abbess as she was so respected, and I had enormous shoes to fill.”
“I’m sure the Chief Abbess would not have assigned you if she didn’t think you were ready.”
Pyrmo adjusted her sash of office. “My assignment was a bit of a shock, but I did my best to make the most of it. Ah, you know you are not our only Imperial official and noble hosted here. The imperial vizier, Bathsheba of Toho and Wilobeia, retired to our abbey a few years ago.”
“Bathsheba of Toho. Oh, yes.” Pyrmo clearly expected Jhee to know who that was. Jhee touched her chin to give herself a moment to wrack her brain. When she came up empty, she improvised, “She was the...”
“The respected sage and former Imperial music tutor.”
“Yes, yes. I know someone who may be so delighted to hear that. I must admit having wanted to visit here for some time. Between your seminars and empire-renowned reliquary and wines.”
“The vizier works closely with our Mistress of Relics.”
“Splendid. I may have corresponded with them regarding access to your archives. I was most saddened to hear of the passing of Saheli, not the only tragedy you have had of late.”
Pyrmo frowned and tucked her hands inside her robes. “Yes, it has been unfortunate times. However, today you have arrived on an auspicious day. It’s the hundredth anniversary of our residence here long after its sack by barbarian hordes. The abbey is celebrating our founding with a feast.”
“The feast explains the commotion I’ve seen. I’d hate to have thought you went through such trouble for me.”
“It’s always our honor to welcome a noble servant of the Empire. Would that the weather was better.”
“Once the storm zone stabilizes, many issues are liable to address themselves. They say peace will return to the Blessed Isles once more. We will have nothing to fear from the barbarians.”
“As the Makers will, so shall it be.”
“I’ve heard you’ve had communications problems due to the storms.”
Pyrmo adjusted her sash of office again. “Low power communications are effectively nullified by the weather.”
“That must explain why our initial hails were ignored.”
“Ignored? The Justicar’s pardon for the discourtesy. Must have been one of our more inexperienced operators. The rest of us were dealing with the aftermath of the second tremor.”
“I hoped to use your transmitter to establish some form of communications with the Central Authority. The prioress told me it requires a lot of power.”
“Power? Just so, under the current conditions, we minimize its use and even then, not until the twin suns are at their maximum height in the skies. Unless you have a pressing need, your best chance of getting a message out is to wait for a storm break.”
Jhee thought of her conch full of case files. They kept this long. They could keep longer. Despite her reasoning to the prioress, she had no urgency in telling Central Authority about the damage her vessel did to an imperial treasure. “No pressing need as of yet. Mostly routine work.”
“The tremors knocked a few of our systems off-line and misaligned some of the solar sheets. I will inquire with the power management and facilities teams to see where we are with power storage and repairs. Perhaps we have enough to power it for a few minutes at full-sun.”
“Thank you, Abbess.”
“My honor, Justicar.”
“As our most gracious host, please pardon my ignorance of what I and my household must do to be most gracious guests.”
“We are a chaste order and ask guests to refrain from fraternization with the Prospectives and the Professed. Land meat is reserved for the sick or others with heavy protein requirements.”
“Shore meat shall suffice. My household avoids raw land meat. Trace amounts are fine if cooked.”
“Philosophical or health-related?”
“Both. No need to enact protocols, though.”
“Our kitchen complies with Pascoe protocols and Blue Waters guidelines already. A few areas are prohibited to males, namely the mineral springs nearest the temple sanctuary and sections of the archives.”
“No doubt to protect them from arcane knowledge.”
“We are not only a chaste order. Many of us eschew all arcana.”
Did Jhee detect a sneer? A religious order founded by former combatants like Drakist Adepts to her mind would have been more accepting of cyphering or at least the healing arts. “Your restrictions on arcana surprise me. I thought the magnificent preservation of your coral edifice must be the result of arcane arts. How do you maintain its brilliant appearance without it?”
“A secret, lost art of those who originally built the abbey. We bring in workers now and then to maintain it. More recently, the refugees have been doing the work in exchange for food.”
“I did notice many idle people on your docks.”
Pyrmo frowned. “Refugees.”
“A question about the stricture against the use of arcana here at Tranquility Bridge, if I may? I have been instructing my youngest consort in its use. As I am unsure of how long we will be here, I wanted to know if there were provisions I could make to continue her instruction.”
The abbess looked thoughtful. “There are several fields on the bluff.”
“My consort’s health is not the best. An arduous trek to the bluffs may be too much. I also worry about such an open location.”
“Ah, yes, I see your point and worry about the same within the walls. It is a vow. Many, especially the veterans, employed it in our secular life. We have chosen to dedicate ourselves to a life without it, which is sometimes easier in an environment without its constant use. It lessens the temptation. If you need privacy, there is a courtyard on the beach side. Access is controlled. Only one gate and walls are high enough with sharp spikes to discourage idle curiosity. Inform me of your practice times in advance, I’ll make additional arrangements to keep the area clear.”
“Thank you, Abbess, that would be most ideal. A whole courtyard. I am honored.”
“The honor is mine. We are doing some renovations, and it goes largely unused except for a guest who exercises his bull hound there. We’ll be starting the feast soon. You and your household simply must attend. You shall be hosted at my table. You can then have an opportunity to speak to Lady Bathsheba and the Mistress of Relics about access to the archives in person.”
A headache pounded fierce behind Jhee’s eyes. Her knees screamed in agony. She craved nothing more than to soak her aching muscles in a warm, mineral spring. “Again, your hospitality overwhelms me. As you wish.”
Jhee forced a smile and clasped forearms with Pyrmo. Pyrmo flinched. She held up her hands, which had severe burn scars. She applied a bitter-smelling salve from a tin on her desk. “My apologies, Justicar. I sometimes forget.”
“I have some small experience with healing. May I take a look?”
“No need. You must be tired from your travels, and the last thing I should do is put you to work before you have had a chance to rest and enjoy our hospitality. You should rest before the feast. I’ll have you taken to your quarters so you may refresh yourself.”
Jhee nodded politely and left. The prioress led her and Bax to another corridor. Her knees and muscles felt sore.
“Does your abbey have mineral springs underneath it?”
/> “Unfortunately, they are under the stars and exposed to the elements. Underneath us are only crypts.”
“What of baths?”
“Only communal showers.”
Jhee sighed. “Whelm.”
“I can have a purification and rehab tub brought to you and your cohort’s room.”
“Splendid. Room singular?”
“Interest in taking holy orders is on the rise. Many have also been stranded here by the beastly storms, among them a troupe of itinerant performers. In fact, they shall be performing at the feast tonight. We’ve housed you in the dormitories instead of the hostelry with the more common guests.”
“What a delight. Although, a whole marriage cohort in one room. I shall not have a moment to myself to think, let alone meditate. Best to show me to your shrine immediately.”
“This way.”
“A moment, please. I want to send my servant ahead.” Jhee pulled Bax aside. “Begin making inquiries. Discretely.”
“Yes, Justicar.”
The Curious Courtyard Shrine
Jhee supposed she could put this separation from her cohort to good use. The prioress brought her down a spiral tower to the courtyard. They emerged from the aperture door onto an exposed rain-soaked grotto. Broad First Makers architraves stood in the center without a bit of shelter for anyone who might use the pillars and basins under them for offerings. Though the perpetual flame and water feature were protected from the Wind Witch, who howled with as much ferocity as her Sea Sister. The rest of the grotto housed many and numerous representations of the variegations of the Makers and Lesser Makers. At one point, everyone claimed every ancestor or nature spirit to be a Maker.
“This way,” the prioress yelled. “Here we are, the shrine. Please, feel free to take as much time here as you need.”
“I will. Thank you.”
The prioress directed her to a small, covered shrine off the main courtyard. This shrine did not contain quite so many effigies. Four nooks separated by columns housed a basin and a pedestal. Being Drakists, one held a physical carving of the Double Shell Drakes wound about the Blessed Isles consuming the other’s tails. The sky pillar and basin on the left had an ever-burning candle. It provided the only light to the shrine; light which danced and leaped in partnerships with the shadows it cast. The alcove on the right had a small water feature on top of the earth pillar. A thin layer of gray-green algae lined the basin. Moss had been allowed to grow on the water feature itself. A pitcher of water, a striker, and incense were already present in the alcove. Rather than use those, Jhee gave of herself. She breathed on the ever-burning candle. Breath and warmth. She pricked her finger and let one drop of blood fall into the water-filled basin. She also used a nail file on the tip of one of her claws over the basin. Flesh and blood. The last hollow, dark and full of stricken out totems, venerated the Unknown Maker. She said a few quick prayers and touched her esca to the ground in supplication. Best not to draw too much attention from that one.
