by Lori Hyrup
“You people are monsters, that’s what’s caused him to run away!” blurted a red-faced Alyse. “You’re terrorizing children.”
Zai’il’s brow angled downward. Aria stared at Alyse and forced down the anger that suddenly welled in her. She felt something touch her elbow and glanced down to see Kharra’s hand. Aria took a long, silent breath and relaxed.
“Mrs. Fornsworth,” Aria started, “the Order of the Shard was founded to protect people from shard beasts, but it’s an organization run by people. People have faults. I won’t pretend that I think everything is okay at the academy at this moment, but I really do want what is best for your son. Right now that means finding out what’s really going on there and what caused him to have such a fright. Please, if there’s something wrong at the academy, I want to get to the bottom of it. The academy is supposed to be a place of learning and training, not fear.”
The redness remained in the other woman’s face, but the tension in her body relaxed. She exhaled loudly, nodded stiffly, turned on heel, and exited the room. The young girl who had been hiding behind Jorun dashed through the same doorway after the woman.
Aria turned back to the boy. “So are you okay if we ask you some questions?”
Though fear still lingered on his face, he nodded tentatively.
“Please have a seat,” said Elias.
Aria and Kharra each picked out one of the thick-cushioned chairs placed on either side of a low rectangular table. Elias sat on a light tan sofa, and Jorun sat beside him.
“I’m fine,” said Zai’il as she took up a standing position against the wall opposite the sofa.
As everyone settled in, Aria said, “Congratulations on your shard.”
The youth smiled, the unexpected compliment putting him further at ease. “Oh, thank you.” He blushed.
“It looks like it hasn’t finished healing yet. You must have received it fairly recently.”
Jorun nodded. “It hasn’t even been a full moon cycle since I received it.”
“We all attended the ceremony,” said a much calmer Alyse as she returned to the room. “It was quite lovely.” Alyse sat upon the sofa beside her son, opposite her husband. The young girl climbed onto Elias’s lap.
Aria gave a tight smile to the clearly worried mother. Then she turned her attention to Jorun and asked, “So, Jorun, what happened that gave you such a fright?”
Jorun stared down at his hands, and silence fell in the room as everyone waited for his answer. He took a deep breath and exhaled. “I-I’ve been having nightmares nearly every night since I received my shard. Horrible nightmares.”
Kharra furrowed her brow. “What can you tell us about your nightmares?”
Jorun frowned. “I can’t remember them very well. What little bit I do remember…I’m always in a room with thick stone walls and dim lighting. There are people, but I can’t tell who they are. My body always hurts something awful, but I can’t tell why. Then my vision gets blurry as if I’m looking through murky water. I see shapes, forms of some sort of creatures moving all about me, but it’s too blurry to tell what they are.” He sighed. “I’m sorry. That’s about all I can remember.”
“What about the other nights?” Aria asked.
The boy looked at her quizzically. “Every night I have nightmares, and every night, the nightmares are the exact same thing.”
“He looked horrible when he arrived, Kruusta,” said Alyse. “But he slept soundly through the night and well into yesterday afternoon.”
“Did he have nightmares?” Aria asked.
“I don’t think so,” the mother answered with a shake of her head. “I don’t think he moved at all. He looks much better today.”
Aria drew her lips taut. She glanced at Zai’il. The dark woman’s nose and lip barely contained her snarl. Then she looked at Kharra sitting on the chair on the opposite side of the table and held her gaze. Without any mind seeking involved, she knew all three of them had drawn the same conclusion.
Kharra shifted her gaze from Aria to the boy. She did not even have to delve into Aria’s thoughts to know Aria held suspicions similar to her own. Kharra took a deep breath. “Jorun, I’ve been gifted with a very rare ability. In some ways it’s like a shardhealer’s, except I don’t need to use crystal tools. If you let me, my ability will allow me to actually see what you dreamed. Would that be okay?” She looked from the boy to both his parents.
The boy looked first at his mother, then at his father, and then at his sister. Seeing the young girl’s worried face, the boy smiled a little bit. He looked back at Kharra, licked his lips, and nodded.
Kharra nodded in return and stood. “I’ll need to be able to touch you—your hands will do.”
“Oh, come take my seat,” said Alyse as she stood.
“Thanks,” Kharra replied as the two women changed places.
Kharra sat down beside Jorun at an angle. She caught a glimpse of Zai’il leaning forward slightly, observing them. Jorun mirrored her position so the two of them were mostly facing each other. Kharra held out both of her hands, palms up. “If you could just place your hands in mine and close your eyes, I’ll begin.”
With no further hesitation, Jorun did as requested.
“Take long, slow breaths and relax,” Kharra said softly.
Again he did as she instructed. Once he was relaxed, Kharra closed her own eyes and allowed her consciousness to extend from her mind down into his. While she could see into a person’s mind without touching them, the physical contact made it much easier to get past any resistance or barriers the person may consciously or subconsciously have in place. She compared it to the difference between looking down into water at some fish below and being under the water with a glass mask on and seeing the fish right in front of her. The barrier that was the water’s surface was removed simply by submerging. Likewise the person’s natural mental barrier was removed with the contact, the equivalent of being submerged.
With efficiency Kharra navigated her mind through the boy’s conscious mind and down into his subconscious. She sifted through his memories of his days of training and discipline. Down further she went, searching for anything that resembled his description. After several minutes she found what she sought. Her heart sank. She dared to hope she was wrong, but her theory had proved correct. Well, not quite. It was even worse. Her eyes snapped open with alarm.
“What’s wrong?” Aria asked, sensing something out of place.
Instead of answering, Kharra said, “Jorun, can I see your back?”
The boy turned and lifted his shirt. Kharra gasped at what she saw, as did both Aria, Zai’il, and the boy’s mother. Scalelike bluish crystals completely covered his shoulder blades.
“What in the world is that?” said Alyse, her voice rising an octave.
Standing across from her, Kharra saw Aria’s face grow dark. She showed no other outward signs of emotion, but to Kharra’s sensitive empathy, the kruusta was radiating rage. Kharra knew it was for the well-being of the family that Aria said nothing.
Through the rest of the conversation with the family, Aria had struggled to smile politely and keep her tone light. Now that they had bid them farewell, Aria strode purposefully in the direction of the academy without bothering to school her face to hide her anger. Not even possessed of his shard for a full month, and Jorun already showed signs of conversion. Whatever was going on with her order, she knew it was also somehow involving innocent kids like Jorun. Unacceptable did not begin to cover it. Aria envisioned putting her fist into the face of the very next priest she encountered.
“Aria, wait up,” said Kharra as she quick-stepped after her. “Don’t do anything rash.”
Without turning Aria stopped to allow the shorter woman to catch up.
Kharra’s hand grabbed her arm gently and turned her. Aria was surprised that she remained angry; Kharra had not used her empathy to calm Aria as she had done in the past. Zai’il, Aria noticed, hung back.
In a low voice, Kharra
said, “Not everyone is involved, and you still need more information.”
Aria took a deep breath and allowed herself to calm a little. “I know.”
Composed, Aria began walking again at a much more normal pace. Kharra remained at her side, and Zai’il sped up to join them.
“Can this conspiracy run so deep that they are targeting trainees?” Aria asked.
“Part of me is having trouble believing it,” said Zai’il. “But we all saw the same thing. This goes way further than we suspected.”
“I’m sorry, Aria,” said Kharra.
Aria glanced down at the young woman. “For what? You did nothing except confirm what I already knew.”
Kharra shrugged. “I’m sorry that you have to go through this. Both of you. I know this organization is like family to you both.”
Zai’il said, “That is kind of you to say.”
Aria nodded and managed a weak smile. “Thanks.” She shook her head. “It disgusts me, but there is no use denying what is. We need to figure out exactly what they are doing and why.”
Kharra’s head bounced in agreement. “And that will require a deeper investigation.” The younger woman’s lips twitched up at both corners.
“I know that look,” Aria said. “It’s the same one Zai’il used to have…”
“I had a look?” asked Zai’il with a raised eyebrow.
Aria nodded. “Yep, you had it any time you were about to do something that would get you in trouble. So, Kharra, what are you up to?”
“I think I have an idea how we can get more information.” Kharra’s tone held a hint of playfulness.
“Would you care to elaborate?”
“I’m going to spend a couple of days among the trainees.”
Aria’s brows came together. “I was going to start interviewing them tomorrow.”
Kharra shook her head. “No, they’ll be guarded if either of you go. Zephyron would probably have a similar effect. No, I’m going to spend some time with them by myself. I’m near enough to many of them in age, and I don’t carry with me the aura you all carry.”
“Huh? Aura?” Aria asked, confused.
“You kruustas and Zephyron have had decades of battle experience, and you all radiate an aura. I don’t know if it is confidence or danger or something else, but even people who don’t have my gifts can feel it.” Kharra lifted her palms up and out. “I don’t know. People are either intimidated by you both or act deferential around you.”
Aria raised an eyebrow at Kharra. “But not around you?”
Kharra batted her eyelashes and said, “I’m just a girl who might need a young, strong man’s protection.”
Zai’il laughed. “Oh, that type of trouble…”
15
DISRUPTION
Aria paced around her room as she absorbed the words of Kharra’s report. All eyes watched both of them. She paused and looked at the shorter woman. “Are you certain?” she asked.
Kharra nodded.
Of course she was certain. In the assessment of people, Kharra had yet to be wrong. Over the past several days, their small group had taken to socializing with a variety of people both in and out of the academy. Inside, they mingled with students, acolytes, trainees, priests, and staff. Outside, they visited local establishments—taverns, inns, shops, even guard posts—to learn if anyone had observed anything out of the norm with regard to the academy or its members.
Charmed by Kharra, First Acolyte Dolson had been eager to give her a thorough tour of the expansive academy grounds, and when asked, Dolson had introduced her to a number of the krusword trainees.
Aria originally thought Zephyron to be the more charismatic of the two, but then she caught a glimpse of Kharra taking lunch with no less than a dozen trainees plus Dolson. Maybe Aria had been wrong because Kharra always seemed so reserved.
“I’ve spent the last three days around them,” Kharra began. “All of them are hazy about specific details, and each one wakes up in the morning in his or her bed, making them believe they’ve been dreaming. However, all of their so-called nightmares are exactly the same—same people, same locations, and same experiences. Their descriptions are exactly the same as Jorun’s, the krusword trainee who ran away.”
Aria glanced at the others. Rauss’s face simmered with anger. Zai’il’s expressed disappointment. Tual’s looked calculating. Zephyron, who was always smiling and witty during normal, casual conversation, showed the same intensity he did when any situation became serious. At least his eyes are not glowing, Aria thought. While she knew she had nothing to fear of Zephyron, seeing those eyes for the first time when he was facing down Tual had haunted her for the rest of that night.
“We can’t let this continue,” Aria said at last.
Rauss nodded. “Something needs to be done.”
“Our biggest problem is knowing who we can trust,” Zai’il added with a hint of sadness. “Is the entire priesthood involved with this?”
“I don’t think so,” Kharra responded.
Aria shook her head. “There were several between Murali and here who did not appear to be involved.”
“I interviewed a few here,” said Rauss. “Surreptitiously, of course,” he added hastily. “I did it under the guise of a younger kruusta needing advice. For the priests, I think those bracelets you mentioned are the key. The ones without the bracelets seemed oblivious. The ones with them, while not outright suspicious of my various questions, brushed me off or made excuses to be elsewhere.”
The others listened as Aria laid out her plan. Their goal that evening would be to search about discretely and find out where the trainees were being taken. One at a time, her companions and fellow kruustas left her rooms and headed to their assigned areas. With just the six of them, they would be hard-pressed to cover every crevice in the massive academy complex.
When the last person departed, Aria focused on her own assignment. She pulled on her new brown doeskin breeches. The soft, supple leather fit perfectly. They, along with a few other items, were a gift from Elias Fornsworth. She started pulling the matching long-sleeved tunic over her head, but she caught her reflection in the room’s mirror and stopped. She lowered the tunic and approached the mirror.
With her right hand, Aria traced over the shards protruding from her left shoulder. Since White Bluff, they had continued to grow a little each day. The white tendrils on her arm had finally met up with the shards. One might almost mistake the texture for a sleeve if they ignored the prismatic reflection and mirrorlike sheen. Soon no skin would show. Aria would not be able to keep her condition hidden from the others of the order much longer. The sooner they dealt with the issues within the academy, the sooner they could be away from the city, and the happier she would be.
Aria refocused her mind and finished dressing, donning her thin leather spaulders, which had been cut to accommodate her shards, and her cloak. She needed to deal with the problem at hand and not allow herself to be distracted. These kids were her current priority.
Aria cracked her door and slipped out into the night. Without the usual moonlight, the shadows from the torchlight along the arches and hallways stretched much farther than normal. Moonless nights only happened once every three months, and Aria was grateful for the darkness. She skirted the edge of the large quad that separated the different wings, thankful Master Fornsworth had included a pair of soft-soled black deerskin boots. They were much easier to keep quiet in than her normal traveling steel-tipped boots.
For two hours Aria stalked the hallways and rooms of the north wing. In and out she slipped among the shadows, not certain what she was looking for but confident she would know when she found it. She entered the cavernous assembly hall, the only enclosed room in the academy capable of holding all residents, instructors, staff, and visitors at the same time. Over one hundred pillars supported the vaulted ceiling of the massive chamber. The nave of the room was vast and, during the day, bright with hundreds of panes of stained glass lining the upper level.
When the sun was high, one could not help but feel uplifted by the brilliant, colored light, but on a moonless evening like tonight, the chamber was as dark as anywhere else.
Aria approached the large shard, drawn to its pulse of life. Before Murali, she had never sensed the shards, and the only pulse she felt had come directly from the crystal in her hand. Ever since White Bluff, the call of the shards tugged at her soul, some opening to her without her even trying. Now their pull grew stronger. It would be so simple to open herself up and let the rapture of its power fill her. Why not? It wanted her and would embrace her. She shook her head clear.
For sixty-seven years, Aria had served the order, taking up the lonely life as a warrior against dangerous shard beasts so other people might live normal lives. In that time she had acquired few acquaintances and fewer close friends, and she had been without family since her childless brother had died twenty-three years earlier. People had feared her and most had never wanted to get close enough to become a friend. She never knew what she had been missing. That had changed nearly six weeks ago when she met Kharra and Zephyron. In such a short period of time, they had become her good friends. She now understood what it was to care for people, and her heart clung to that as tightly as the shard’s call. She did not yet want to let go of it, of that feeling, so she would hold off conversion as long as possible.
Aria placed her hand on the shard more as a gesture of sentiment than a need to commune, so she was not prepared for the barrage of imagery that assaulted her mind—cells, cages, tables, vats of a boiling silvery substance, screaming, crying, a lifeless emaciated body against a wall. Aria pulled her hand away, staggering backward as she did. Her hand throbbed. She glanced down and was shocked to see the crystal pulsing bright red. She had never seen that color before, but she knew the meaning. Whatever was going on here, the shard was furious.
Aria turned and ran, not caring if anyone saw her. If they did, she would be just a fleeting shadow, here one moment and gone the next. Aria sprinted across the quad, through the south hall, left at the end, down a flight of stairs, another left, through the library and several study rooms. She was unfamiliar with the areas through which she ran, but the shard had shown her where to go. Down three more flights of stairs, Aria came to halt, her path barred by a locked metal door. Failing to find a key or other mechanism to open the door, Aria paced back and forth.
