by R. M Garino
“Remmy’s not a runt,” Enid said in the pup’s defense.
“Bicca’s been nursing it until it’s strong enough to return to the A’gist. Enid’s been gushing over it for days now. I think she comes by to see it, rather than you."
“Remmy smells better.”
“Bicca treats it better than his patients, I hear,” Hironata said.
“Only those who don’t have the decency to lay there quietly,” Angus said as poked his head through his shirt. “The care here for the insensate is unsurpassed.”
“We rotate through the A’gist in a few months,” Hironata said. “I think we should hope Bicca has a short memory.”
“We’ll have to use Enid for interference, should it come to that,” Angus said.
“I don’t think she’ll mind all that much,” Ossian said.
“Keep it up and I’ll show you how much I mind.”
“Don’t worry,” Thomlin said. “An Elc’atar named Thesius is in charge of the A’gist, not Bicca. From what I hear she’s scarier anyway.”
“The A’gist marks the halfway point of our first year,” Demona said.
Angus stomped his foot into a boot, supported by Thomlin. “You know what that means?”
“More down time,” Hironata said.
“If we all get accepted,” Ti’vol said.
“What if we don’t all get accepted?” Demona asked. “What then?”
“Those who don’t go home,” Ossian said. Everyone gave him a moment to elaborate on his statement, but as usual, he did not.
“But we’re still a Pride, right?” Ti’vol asked.
“Of course we are,” Hironata said, on top of similar exclamations from Enid and Thomlin.
“Don’t worry, Ti,” Enid said, giving her a shove. “We’ll all make it through selection.”
“I’m just saying, some of us might not be Elc’atar material,” Ti’vol said.
“That’s no way to talk to Hironata,” Angus said.
The seven friends shared a chuckle as Thomlin settled the blanket back over Angus’ shoulders. “Sorry, cousin. No room for a decent coat or cloak,” he said. “It's a bit chilly out.”
“A bit?”
“Think you can make the run across the quad?”
“Not even with the Apostate on my heels,” Angus said with a shake of his head. “Sorry.”
Thomlin shrugged. “So we carry you. Hiro, think you’re up to it?”
“I’ll carry his large ass,” Hironata said with a shrug of his shoulders. “If he gets too heavy, I’ll drag him.”
“Wonderful,” Angus said, casting Hironata a wry glance. “I’m looking forward to it. At some point tonight, however, I expect to hear the reason why we’re rushing about all stealthy like.”
“Of course,” Thomlin said gesturing to encourage the others to move, before running into the darkness. Ti’vol was close behind him, so small that she could pass for a child beside him. Hironata started running the moment Angus climbed onto his back. Enid and Ossian matched each other’s strides. They formed the outermost edge of a diamond pattern typically employed in maneuvers, guarding the flanks. Demona came last, keeping the formation tight and guarding the rear.
The infirmary stood thirty yards away from the labyrinth of tunnels that honeycombed the mountainside. The distance from the communal barracks, offices, lecture halls, and storage rooms gave disease limited ability to spread, and offered the injured a quick line of retreat should the Gates come under attack.
Unfortunately for them, it also offered the wind a convenient tunnel through which to whip and pick up speed.
As a gust sliced into Angus he stole glances about the complex searching for a silver ponytail.
Thomlin took one of the lower entrances, scanning their back trail. They ducked past him. He was the last one in, and barred the entrance behind them.
They stopped by a set of double doors nestled between a pair of intricate pillars carved into the wall. Enid and Ossian fell into position facing away from one another on either side of the columns. Both spread their energy field outward and away. Their physical forms wavered, and stretched. Within a moment, both had vanished from sight, save for a slight distortion in the air, like the reflection of heat on a hot summer’s day.
Thomlin laid his palm against the doorframe. His sin’del radiated against the lock like a stylized sun, the points curling in different directions.
“After you,” Thomlin said, waving them in.
Angus patted the top of Hironata’s head.
“I think I can walk from here, big guy,” he said. Hironata set him down, keeping a grip on Angus’ shoulder until he was sure he was able to stand on his own.
CHAPTER NINE
Why It Worked
The Great Houses of the Areth’kon each maintained certain privileges, including private areas sealed off from prying eyes and ears. The Heir’s Apartments was one such place. It was modest in size, containing less than a dozen adjoining rooms. Included within its design was a sitting area, war council room, map room, library, sleeping quarters, galley, and storage space. Compared to the areas kept by the larger Houses, such as Fel’Mekrin and Le’Manon, or even the Noble House of Rhen’val, the Kal’Parev apartment was akin to Mer’Chien’s: a mere fishbowl. Nevertheless, it met their current needs, and truth be told, it had more room than they needed. Thomlin’s father was the Head of the House, and he had revealed the location to the sanctuary. Thomlin could not live here full time yet, but it was a comfortable place to gather. Life was much easier as a result.
Angus dropped onto a plush chair by the hearth, the soul lights casting a comfortable, drowsy light. Demona and Ti’vol had wandered off, presumably to stow their gear before relaxing. The remainder entered soon after, slapping shoulders, and congratulating each other on a successful mission.
Thomlin was the last to enter.
“Well done, all,” he said, removing his cloak and draping it over the back of a chair. He pitched his voice to be heard throughout, secure in their privacy now that the entrance was sealed. Everyone said their thanks, the echoes of those in distant chambers drifting among the light granite walls.
“For once, things went exactly as planned,” Enid said.
“So, who wants to fill me in on this oddly successful plan?” Angus said, sitting forward in his seat. “Not to sound ungrateful for being rescued from Bicca’s ministrations and all, but I don’t see the point. He would have let me out in a day or two.”
Silence slid across the room with a deft precision. Every face regarded the other, asking who would start.
“Right then,” Thomlin said when no one else offered to speak. “Guess it falls to me.”
He moved in front of the hearth, where Ossian was laying a fire, to face Angus. With his left hand on the pommel of his sword, he drew a deep breath.
“My father arrived by caster two hours ago,” he said to the ceiling. Fixing a hesitant glance at Angus, he added, “Your father arrived with him.”
“Seven hells!” Angus said.
“Language!” Ti’vol called from the back room.
“The Commandant is here as well,” Thomlin said. “They summoned me to a plenary as soon as they arrived. I spent thirty minutes being called every sort of name my father could think of, and some he invented on the spot.”
“They pulled the rest of us in and handed us our heads for not ‘actively curbing’ the foolish tendencies of the two of you,” Hironata said.
“It was not fun,” Ossian said over his shoulder. The kindling took, and he brushed himself off as he stood.
“They planned on pulling you out of the infirmary as soon as you were awake and doing the same to you,” Enid said. “We figured that we’d liberate you first, hide you and give you a chance to rest before you faced them.”
Angus was already shaking his head before Enid finished speaking.
“Well, that was why it worked,” Angus said. “We only succeed at the stupid stuff. I can’t hide fro
m them here.”
Thomlin struck his forehead. “The apartments were theirs during their tour,” he said. “Of course they know where it is. And how to get in!”
“And why did none of us realize that?” Ossian said as he slapped Thomlin.
Hironata shrugged and Enid buried her face in his shoulder.
“Because you wanted to do something,” Angus said. “Thanks. Seriously. But you wasted your time.”
“Your mother’s here, as well,” Thomlin said. “I think they’re both pretty pissed. They are very well informed.”
“Well, her I can hide from here,” Angus said. “My mother never came to the Gates, remember. What did you tell them, anyway?”
“I explained, all nice and contrite like, how you tried to keep Bowler from discovering that I was missing,” Thomlin said. “You, being the heroic type that you are, became belligerent to draw his attention away. I played it up and made you look good.”
“Heroic? Bowler beat him down,” Enid said.
“Yeah, I added that too,” Thomlin said. “It added the right touch of tragedy.”
He paused and gave a stray ember his full attention as he pushed it back.
“And?”
“And I told them how we arranged our surprise for Bowler.”
“Seven Hells!”
“Language!” Ti’vol called again.
“If it helps,” Thomlin said, “your father perked up when I told him how you took the blame for it all.”
“Your father must have loved that.”
“Yeah, not as much as you’d think,” Thomlin said.
“So what do we do now?” Enid said. “Wait for them to come and get him? They’ll know we busted him out. We’ve already had a dressing down once today.”
Hironata placed a hand upon her shoulder. She glanced up at him, and then to Thomlin and Angus. Demona and Ti’vol walked into the room, staying on the periphery. Thanks to the acoustics of the apartments, they had not missed much of the conversation.
“I go to them,” he said. “Showing up where you are not expected is always a sound strategy. It keeps your opponent on their guard and off balance.”
“Please don’t start spouting Phaedrus again,” Ti’vol said. “We all know you memorized his book.”
“Hiro just carried you from the infirmary,” Demona said. “Technically, you shouldn’t even be out. There’s no way you can stand all defiant before your father and the Commandant.”
“And my father,” Thomlin said. “Let’s not forget that he needs to face the Head of his House.”
“The shrew isn’t here, is she?” Angus said, resting his elbows on his knees.
Thomlin chuckled under his breath. “No, she’s not here. From what I hear, she didn’t like the look of all of us burly and uncouth Blades, so she kept right on moving.”
“Thanks for small kindnesses.”
“I thought your grandmother was blind,” Ti’vol said.
“She is,” Ossian said.
Enid touched Ossian’s arm, as if thanking him for his contribution. “It’s just a figure of speech, Ti,” she said.
“Oh,” Ti’vol said.
After a moment, she stopped and tilted her head to the side. “I don’t get it.”
“Your grandfather stayed,” Thomlin said, ignoring Ti’vol. “He’s not sitting in judgment, though. He just decided to stay.”
Angus barked a laugh as he let his head rest in his fist.
“This is going to be rough if Granddad decided to stay,” Angus said. “It’s his way of telling me that there’s at least one friendly face.”
“I for one have never seen him mad,” Thomlin said to the room. “And we’ve done a lot worse than this, believe me.”
“Oh, we believe you,” Demona said.
“Granddad’s got more patience than anyone I’ve ever met,” Angus said. “Nothing upsets him. He’s got an unflappable temper.”
“Maybe that’s the reason he’s been able to stay with your grandmother all this time,” Thomlin said. “You know, despite her constant ire and spleen.”
Angus laughed.
He let his gaze fall to the floor between his knees. The brief exchange had tired him. Every inch ached, and fatigue leeched away what energy he had. It was easier staring at the floor than lifting his head. Demona was right: he was in no shape to face the Commandant’s judgment. He was conscious by only a small margin.
“You all need to heal me,” Angus said. “It’s either that or take me back to the infirmary and let me wait for the summons. There’s no reason for you all to be disciplined again.”
“One problem,” Hironata said from his place against the wall. “You’re the closest thing we have to a Magi.”
“Hiro has a point,” Demona said. “We haven’t even learned how to heal ourselves yet.”
Angus gave a small, dismissive wave. “You all focus your sin’del on a single point, an anchor let’s say, and you continue to nourish it. This creates a feedback loop, and the resulting backwash should heal me,” he said.
“Oh, is that all?” Ossian said.
“I’m glad it’s that simple,” Enid said, “or we wouldn’t understand anything you just said. Oh, wait! We didn’t.”
Angus pointed at Ti’vol. “Ti’s our anchor,” he said. “We all focus our sin’del on her. She grounds our life force, fixes it in place and draws it together. We let it build around her, and when there is enough I can direct it. The resulting backwash should in turn affect everyone in the room.”
“Should?” Ossian said.
“How many times have you done this?” Enid said.
“The theory is sound, I think,” Angus said. “I’ve never actually done it, but I can’t see any reason why it wouldn’t work.”
They exchanged glances, searching faces for confirmation or rejection of the idea. Everyone, however, remained perfectly neutral, not voicing a position for either side. The silence stretched, and Angus lifted his head.
“Why me?” Ti’vol said, her head cocked to the side. “Everyone else is stronger and faster.”
Angus shrugged in response, his habitual smile slipping out. “You can focus your attention better than anyone else here. For this to work, we’ll need that focus to keep us all grounded.”
Ti’vol regarded him without speaking.
“Makes sense,” she said at last. “I’m in.”
She sat on the floor before Angus. Thomlin moved as well. As if breaking the spell of silence and indecision, the others committed themselves.
CHAPTER TEN
Anchor
“This is called Ta’shin,” Angus said, his voice taking on a ritualistic tone as he explained. “It is the ability to extend our selves outward, to blend with the life force around us and create a harmony with those energies in ourselves.”
“Like we do when we merge with the environment,” Enid said.
She, along with everyone else sat upon the stone floor with their legs crossed, Ti’vol in the middle of them. The six of them sat before Angus, who had slipped to the floor with his back propped against the chair.
“Exactly,” he said with a weak flourish. “Ta’shin deals with everything around us. Our sin’dels continuously interact with the environment, mostly without our conscious thought. Energy strives for balance, the way water will find its own level. Without our intervention, the world finds its own equilibrium in all things. A rise in the population of deer prompts an increase in the wolf. This is called Ri’en, the harmony of balance. The animals of the forest exist in Ri’en, as do small children, and it’s this movement which guides their thoughts. As such, their actions are congruent.
“We are creatures of conscious thought, however, and our thoughts rise above the Ri’en when we leave childhood, above the dictates of our immediate environment. That ability to think leads to the ability to act. And as our thoughts are now discordant, so too our actions are no longer of the Ri’en. We sow disharmony and disruption with our every action. Some say we
do so with our every thought outside the Ri’en. They hold that it is the thought, as the basis for action, that drives our interaction with the world.”
“That sounds like what the Fiftanu say,” Ti’vol said. “Thought is the most powerful construct in the Quain.”
“Actually, that sounds like Sigrid,” Thomlin said. His elbows were propped on his knees. “You know the crazy hermit who wanders into the Vaults every few decades trying to teach meditation in exchange for room and board?”
“Funny you should mention that,” Angus said catching his cousin’s eye, “Sigrid was one of the first to propose the notion. He wrote the Phren Al’Gatta before he left Reven Marthal. It is considered one of the seminal works on the topic, and it created quite a controversy among the Magi. Don’t write Sigrid off because he walked away from everything. The Magi still consider him one of the elite.”
“Step out of the lecture hall, Angus,” Demona said. “We don’t have much time. You can tell us about your man-crush later.”
“Right,” Angus said, although he could not suppress a smile. “It is believed that if we alter our thoughts, calm them, still them so that they exist in balance with the environment, we will exist within the Ri’en, and it will guide our actions. The process is easier said than done, however. So some of the early Magi, Sigrid included, developed a way to train the mind to seek harmony, if not stillness. It is called the Vol.”
Every countenance took on a cast of surprise at the revelation. Each, since they’d entered the Areth’kon, had learned and performed the Vol every morning and evening as part of their training. As such, they were well acquainted with the drill. Each, however, understood it to be a martial exercise.
“Exactly,” he said. “The Areth’kon understood the usefulness of the Vol, and so they incorporated it into their training. As such, every Lethen’al is now capable of seeking the Ri’en, if not achieving Ta’shin, because they have all been trained at the Areth’kon. The Elc’atar and Mala’kar supposedly learn how to take it a step further than we do.”
