The Cathedral of Known Things

by Edward Cox

  ‘No, it couldn’t,’ said Nurmar.

  Jantal turned a cruel sneer to Marney. ‘There used to be more of us, you know. But they didn’t make it, and we … ah, well, food isn’t easy to come by in this place.’ She slid one of the daggers from the baldric. ‘And your rations won’t last us very long.’

  Marney responded with a slow blink.

  As Nurmar grinned, a strange glint in his Aelfirian eyes, Jantal snorted and offered the slender silver blade to Red. The large Aelf stared at the weapon, but made no move to take it.

  ‘Go on,’ Jantal urged. ‘You know what to do with it.’

  Without a word, Red took the dagger and walked towards Marney, her steps slow, her eyes averted. Jantal walked alongside her, but Nurmar remained close behind, rubbing his hands together, shifty and nervous, like a schoolchild egging on a bully. They reached their captive.

  Marney felt nothing.

  ‘She’s a tough little bitch,’ Jantal said, stepping beside Marney and facing her colleagues. ‘But I think we can break her.’

  Nurmar chuckled. Marney tried to catch Red’s eye, but the Aelf wouldn’t look at her.

  Jantal gazed down at the kneeling empath. ‘One more time – why are you here? Who sent you?’

  Marney met her gaze, but said nothing.

  Jantal sighed. ‘I’d start talking if you don’t like pain.’

  The threat was ineffectual. Marney had fathomed this woman – nothing like as ruthless as she wanted people to believe. Jantal had her fears, and Marney knew what they were.

  ‘You’re going to die here,’ Marney told her, voice as stony as the hut, ‘and no one will remember you.’

  Jantal’s features twitched and her jaw clenched. She stared at Marney briefly, before she turned angrily to Red.

  ‘Hurt her,’ she ordered, grabbing Marney’s hair and forcing her to face the large Aelf. ‘Take out an eye.’

  Red went down on her knees before Marney. Very slowly, she moved the point of the throwing dagger towards the empath’s face.

  Ignoring the rough hold of Jantal, and the childlike excitement of Nurmar, Marney calmly summoned her empathic magic. She sent out a searching tendril, probing into Red’s emotions, hunting for the place inside her where pain and trauma had taken a toll on her mind. As she found it, wrapped her magic around it, Marney felt herself guided by the teachings of Denton.

  Once you understand your enemies, you will know how to turn their emotions against them.

  Marney’s empathy gripped what remained of Red’s emotions, and she injected her voice into her magic.

  Look at me.

  For the first time, Red’s big eyes met the empath’s. Pale, watery. Although she kept the blade slowly moving towards Marney’s face, there was doubt in Red’s mind, a question: had she chosen the wrong side in this war?

  Of course you did, Marney thought to her. You already know that.

  A subtle pulse of agreement tingled along Marney’s magic.

  But what could she do about that now? Red asked. She had made her decisions, and now she had to live with the regret, with the hurt.

  Yes, you’ve done terrible things in Spiral’s name, Marney told the Aelf, watching dispassionately as the dagger inched closer and closer. But that doesn’t mean you have no choices left.

  It had been a long time since Red had believed in choices, salvation, a way out. Marney felt another flare of emotion: primal despair, as if from an infant clinging to her mother, desperate for reassurance, answers …

  Isn’t it obvious? Marney said soothingly as the tip of the dagger came to rest on her cheek and slid up towards her left eye. You know what you have to do, Red. You’ve always known, haven’t you?

  The dagger stayed still. Red narrowed her eyes and nodded.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered.

  ‘What are you doing, Red?’ Jantal said. ‘What are you waiting for?’

  The large Aelf smiled at Marney, and Marney smiled back.

  Jantal and Nurmar jumped clear with shocked cries as Red stabbed the dagger into her own throat. She stabbed again. And again. Over and over, never making a sound, ignoring the shouts of her fellow deserters begging her to stop. By the time Red died, and her corpse toppled sideways, her blood had spewed over Marney’s face, drenching her vest and naked thighs.

  Marney felt nothing.

  Nurmar choked as he tried to speak. Jantal turned wide and fearful eyes to the empath.

  ‘What did you do, you bitch!’

  You know what I did, Marney thought to her. You know it makes sense.

  Jantal flinched. ‘Yes … Yes, I reckon it does.’

  There’s no need to be jealous of Red, Marney continued. She found a way out, sure – but she left the door open.

  Jantal nodded. ‘I suppose you’re right.’

  ‘Who are you talking to?’ Nurmar said shakily.

  Pick up the dagger, Marney told Jantal. It’s for the best.

  Submissively, Jantal bent down and pulled the blade from Red’s throat. It came free with a slurp, and she studied the red-smeared silver in her hand.

  ‘Jantal,’ Nurmar hissed. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Shut up!’ Jantal spat. ‘Just … shut up!’

  Stick Nurmar first, Marney directed. He’s a liability, and you never liked him anyway.

  Jantal clenched her teeth and turned dangerous eyes on her colleague. ‘Come here, you bastard,’ she growled.

  Nurmar yelped and tried to make a dash for the rifles leaning against the wall. But Jantal reached him first and kicked his legs from under him. As Nurmar crashed to the floor, Jantal was on him. She kicked him onto his back and gripped the collar of his uniform in her fist.

  ‘No!’ Nurmar screeched as Jantal raised the dagger and prepared to stab it into his face.

  The hut door flew open with a howl of wind, disturbing Jantal, disrupting Marney’s magical hold. An older Aelfirian soldier ran in, clutching several sheets of paper in one hand, and a spell sphere in the other.

  ‘She’s a magicker,’ shouted Matthaus, the leader of the deserters. ‘Get away from her!’

  Jantal released Nurmar. She looked at the blade in her hand and dropped it. ‘Shit …’

  Nurmar scrambled away.

  Before Marney could react, Matthaus stepped forwards and threw the spell sphere at the floor. It smashed two feet from the empath, and released a shock wave. It hit Marney with a droning vibration. She felt as though the spirit had been sucked from her body.

  She must have passed out. The next thing Marney knew, she was still bound and on her knees, but Red’s body had been removed, though a thick, sticky puddle of her blood remained. The empath felt acutely frightened.

  Her magic was gone.

  ‘What are you?’ said a calm, amiable voice. ‘Telepath? Empath?’

  Matthaus sat at the camping table, watching Marney. He was a gaunt and grizzled Aelf, a greying veteran with a thick white beard. He still held the sheets of paper, and Marney realised they were the contents of Denton’s envelope of instructions. He also had another spell sphere close at hand on the table.

  Marney became aware that she was covered in blood. She could smell it, taste it on her lips. She retched.

  Matthaus seemed to recognise the sudden fear that Marney had been exposed to without her magic. ‘Empath, I’d say.’

  The door to the hut opened. Jantal and Nurmar walked in, looking scared and angry. Nurmar carried a long, sharp knife.

  ‘We were going to get Red … ready,’ Nurmar said, ‘but her body disappeared. Just like that.’ He clicked his fingers.

  ‘Doesn’t surprise me,’ Matthaus replied. He smiled at Marney. ‘Things like to appear and disappear in this House, as I’m sure you’ve fathomed. But,’ he said to his colleagues, ‘it might not matter now.’ He held up Denton’s instruct
ions.

  ‘What does it say?’ Jantal asked after giving Marney a threatening glare.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Matthaus said. ‘It’s written in code. But I’ve gleaned enough to know who she is, and that she didn’t come to Ghost Mist Veldt alone.’

  ‘Another human?’ said Jantal.

  ‘And almost certainly a magicker. His name is Denton. Her name’s Marney.’ Matthaus sat back and rubbed his beard. ‘If I had to guess, I’d say they’re agents of the Relic Guild.’

  ‘The Relic Guild?’ Nurmar sounded shaken. ‘What do we do?’

  Matthaus placed the coded instructions down on the table and sighed. ‘First, I need you two to find where the other magicker is hiding.’

  ‘Easier said than done in this place,’ Jantal complained. ‘Doesn’t help that our rifles are useless. The anti-magic drained the power stones. They won’t charge up again for a couple of hours.’

  ‘Then take this,’ Matthaus replied, handing Jantal the spell sphere. ‘Use it wisely. It’s the last one we’ve got. Now go and find this Denton, nullify him, and bring him back here.’

  Although the order was spoken calmly and quietly, it held gravitas, and Jantal and Nurmar accepted their leader’s instructions without question. Once they had left the hut, Matthaus leant forwards in his chair, resting his elbows upon his knees, whilst his large Aelfirian eyes studied his empathic hostage.

  ‘There’s a water spring not far from here,’ he told her. ‘Seems to be the only constant thing outside this hut. Some days, cold water is all we get to put in our bellies.’

  Marney was shivering, not just from the chill, and tears came to her eyes.

  ‘It’s the magic of Ghost Mist Veldt, you see – protecting its House. Oh, it occasionally gives us a treat or two. One day we might find wood to burn. On another day, maybe an animal to kill and eat. But this House has trapped us in a bubble of magic that we can’t escape. And until now, Marney, no one has found us.’

  He sat back again. ‘I don’t blame you for killing Red,’ he said wistfully. ‘I don’t blame anyone for anything, not anymore.’

  ‘Please,’ said Marney. Her teeth were chattering. ‘Let me go.’

  ‘Go where? You’re stuck in this hut with the rest of us. At least for the time being.’

  Matthaus took the instructions from the table, and stared at them for a moment.

  ‘Shall I tell you what I did when I first joined the army, Marney? I was a hierophant. I deciphered codes.’ He held the pages up. ‘And I won’t decide what to do with you until I understand what all this means.’

  Angel groaned and fell to her knees in the sand. Van Bam was quickly at her side. Angel’s skin glowed with magic, as yet more poison seeped from the wound on her hand.

  ‘This coppion sting is freakishly strong,’ she said through clenched teeth. ‘I can’t get a handle on it. I could really use a magical apothecary.’ She managed a weak smile for Van Bam. ‘Where’s Gene when you need him?’

  The moon was bright and silver over the desert of Mirage, casting long shadows across the grey sands. Namji and Buyaal were properly attired for the trek, and did not feel the chill of the desert night as Van Bam and Angel did. The dress of the Relic Guild agents was better suited to the heat of the blistering days. Van Bam had cast the illusion of warmth to combat the chill, but Angel still shivered from the effects of the venom.

  Namji came over to her. ‘Perhaps you should rest for a while,’ she said.

  ‘No. We keep moving,’ Buyaal said edgily. He was looking to the first outcrops of rock that heralded the western mountain range, a short distance away. ‘The Hermit can help her, and we’re almost there.’

  ‘I’m okay,’ Angel protested, ‘I can walk,’ but when she tried to stand, she almost fell again and had to grab on to Van Bam for support. ‘Or maybe not.’

  Van Bam put one of Angel’s arms over his shoulder, Namji doing the same on the other side; together they helped the healer to trudge through the sand and follow Buyaal into the rocks. The western mountains rose high above the group, black and formidable.

  Van Bam looked back to the east, where they had travelled from, his eyes scouring the shadowy expanse of the desert. He decided that even if the citadel of Mirage wasn’t invisible from the outside, its high walls and turrets would still be lost in the gloom. The horizon was thinly lined with the first pinkish evidence of dawn’s approach.

  As the group began following a path that cut into the base of the mountain, Van Bam grew uneasy. They had been fleeing for two hours or more, yet there was no sign of pursuit. Someone must have been alerted to their escape by now, and the illusionist aired his concerns to his companions.

  ‘Don’t be too quick to assume we’re not being pursued,’ advised Buyaal. ‘There is a Genii controlling Mirage, Master Van Bam, and higher magic does not have to be seen or felt to be present.’

  As he led the way, Buyaal held a hand out before him, as if feeling the air. Feeling for some magic, Van Bam decided, that would allow the Hermit’s friends to find him.

  ‘I still do not understand,’ Van Bam said. ‘How could an Aelfirian House fall into Spiral’s hands without Lady Amilee noticing?’

  ‘Yeah, I’d like an answer to that too,’ Angel added weakly.

  ‘I wish I knew,’ Namji replied. ‘I only learned of the betrayal shortly before the banquet. I wanted to tell you, but … but I had to pretend I was on board, for my own safety.’

  ‘Have you met the Genii?’ Van Bam asked.

  Namji shook her head. ‘But my mother and father are completely loyal to him. As for Ebril … you heard what he said back at the citadel.’ She broke off as her voice cracked.

  ‘I tell you what I don’t understand,’ Angel said. ‘What are they waiting for?’ Van Bam could see the sheen of sweat on her face glistening with reflected moonlight. ‘This war has been going on for two years, yet Mirage hasn’t been involved in the fighting. In fact, they’ve been helping as a supply line for the Timewatcher’s armies. What are they doing?’

  ‘An excellent point,’ said Van Bam. ‘Mirage’s militia could have attacked Green Sky Forest and the Floating Stones of Up and Down, and destroyed that supply line at any time. Why have they held back? Why the pretence?’

  ‘Because the Genii has been biding his time,’ Buyaal explained. ‘He has been waiting for confirmation that Fabian Moor was successful in reaching Labrys Town – which you gave him when you allowed Ebril and his entourage to return home.’

  Van Bam thought for a moment. ‘And now the Genii has confirmation, what is his plan for Mirage?’

  ‘Isn’t it obvious?’ Buyaal looked back as he led the way. ‘Outside the citadel of Mirage, on the Giant’s Hand, sits a doorway to the Great Labyrinth. Creatures of higher magic cannot use it, but Aelfirian soldiers …?’

  Angel swore.

  ‘He plans to invade the Labyrinth,’ Van Bam whispered.

  ‘The doorway in Mirage is the first portal to the Great Labyrinth that Spiral’s army has secured in this war,’ Buyaal said. ‘The Genii has an army at his disposal, Master Van Bam. At any moment, he could send it to Labrys Town to serve Fabian Moor. And seeing as Lady Amilee has already failed to see so much, I doubt anyone will notice until it is too late.’

  Van Bam shared a look with Angel. She was clearly as startled by Buyaal’s words as he had been. And she was getting weaker.

  ‘We must get word to Lady Amilee,’ Van Bam said, ‘The Nightshade has to be warned.’

  ‘No, you need to speak with the Hermit,’ Buyaal insisted.

  Van Bam made an angry noise. ‘Who is the Hermit?’ he demanded. ‘What part does he play in this?’

  ‘Right now, he is the only person who can help you,’ Buyaal said sternly. ‘The Hermit saved a hundred or more citizens from subjugation. Most of them live out here in the mountains, protected by him. A few of us
– like me – hide in the city, gathering intelligence. We are the resistance, freedom fighters, and perhaps the last hope Mirage – and Labrys Town – has.’

  ‘You are a hundred Aelfir against the rest of Mirage?’ Van Bam said. He hadn’t meant a scornful tone to enter his voice, but it was there nonetheless. ‘What does your resistance hope to achieve against such odds?’

  Buyaal sighed. ‘I don’t know.’ He looked back at the illusionist, as though searching for an answer. ‘Maybe the Hermit will tell you why he hasn’t put any plans into action yet. Only he can answer your questions. Come. Not far now.’

  With his hand still feeling the air, Buyaal set off along the mountain path. As Namji gave Van Bam a perplexed look, the illusionist adjusted Angel’s arm around his shoulder, and the three carried on following.

  It wasn’t long before the path led into a narrow valley with high walls. Soon after, Buyaal took them out the other side, and down into a wide crater. It was then that Angel groaned and pushed Van Bam and Namji away from her. Falling to her hands and knees, she vomited dark liquid onto the ground. Van Bam tried to persuade himself it was the wine Angel had consumed earlier and not blood. He crouched down beside her.

  ‘What is it?’ Namji said, her young face creased with concern. ‘Why can’t she overcome the poison?’

  Van Bam could feel the heat radiating from Angel’s skin through her cotton shirt. He pressed two fingers to the side of her neck. Her pulse was fluttering, erratic. The wound on the back of her hand was swollen and angry.

  ‘Hold on,’ the illusionist told the healer. ‘We will reach help soon.’

  Angel nodded. ‘Just let me sit for a while.’

  Van Bam helped the healer into a sitting position. Once again, Angel’s skin glowed with the light of her magic, but this time it paled and flickered out. And it was not blood-streaked venom that oozed from the sting wound; the substance that emerged almost looked like smoke. It ballooned from the hole in Angel’s hand like a bubble blown from a child’s toy. But the bubble didn’t pop or float away; it shrank and disappeared as if it had been drawn back into Angel’s veins.