by Ella M. Lee
“Hey,” I said, drawing his dark gaze. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, affecting a much more chipper tone this time. But I’d known him a long time, and I’d seen him in every mood. He wasn’t happy.
“You’re not,” I said.
He reached out to squeeze my hand. “You have to focus on getting through the conclave. I’m good. Trust me.”
I didn’t quite believe him, but Dan wasn’t comfortable talking about his emotions. Death hadn’t changed that, and I didn’t want to push him.
Instead, I threw my arms around him awkwardly, pulling him into a tight hug. When we finally broke apart, I said, “Thanks. I needed that.”
I let myself dream, for just a few seconds, of getting Dan out of here, of falling back into our old rhythm—sparring all evening, curling on the couch to watch Japanese TV shows, teasing each other while baking. All the closeness that had always been so easy for us.
One look in Daniel’s eyes told me he was imagining the same thing.
I stood awkwardly. I couldn’t exactly slip out without him noticing that I was crossing the torii gate back into my own sanctum.
“So, um,” I said. “I actually didn’t mean to come to this sanctum today.”
Dan tilted his head up at me, his hair ruffling in the breeze. “What?”
“I got here accidentally,” I explained. “I went into my own sanctum. I found a torii gate in it, so I stepped through… and I ended up here.”
Daniel’s eyes widened, his lips pursed and assessing. “That doesn’t seem possible.”
Dan, an excellent student, knew as much about magic as any of us, having studied it for years under the best magicians in the world.
“Yeah, I know. I was pretty surprised. It’s like this arch goes to other places. Other sanctums.”
Daniel stood and circled the red gate. “It doesn’t seem strange to me.” Hesitantly, he put a hand out and very slowly let it cross through the empty space of the doorway. “I don’t feel anything different.”
I put my hand through. The other side felt warm and calm to my skin. “I feel my sanctum.”
“Huh,” Dan said. He laughed. “I’m sure Nicolas will just love this.”
“I can’t wait for him to pelt me with a hundred questions,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Listen,” Dan said. “I’ll try to do some experimenting here to see what’s up. It’s new magic, so who knows what’s going on with it.”
“I thought you weren’t, uh, here without one of us here?”
“If I focus hard, I can be. It’s like, uh, when you’re half asleep, and you don’t want to move, but you could wake up if you really needed to. Or you could just fall asleep instead.”
“I see,” I said, although I didn’t really get it. I opened my arms wide. “Come here.”
I caught Daniel in a hug, and he put his arms around me in another bone-crushing embrace that forced all the air from my lungs.
“See you soon, Fi?” he asked, pulling away to study my face.
“Yeah. I can’t wait.”
I stepped back, took a deep breath, and walked through the gate. I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the dim light of the barn.
I swallowed twice, trying to get my dry throat to function properly. Tears burned the back of my throat. Well, that was the weirdest thing ever.
I closed my eyes, reaching into my core to find that thread back to my body. It took only the slightest bit of tugging, and then I was back in the lab.
I pulled Nicolas’s headphones off, sitting up, gasping. I fumbled at the blindfold. When I had it off, I was met with Nicolas’s startled expression. He studied me from the couch, where he was stretched out with a notebook.
“Lamb?” he asked, his brow furrowed.
“You will never believe what just happened to me,” I said, sitting by his side and launching into a messy summary of what I’d experienced inside my sanctum. I knew it was messy because Nicolas kept interrupting me to ask questions, something he rarely did unless he was genuinely confused about the topic.
“It was like, like… a bridge, I guess,” I blabbered. “I could walk through from one place to the other. What does that mean?”
Nicolas shook his head, confusion still marring his handsome face. “I have no idea. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“You aren’t able to do that?” I asked.
“I’ve found no such gateway in my own sanctum, if that’s what you’re asking. I would have told you.”
“We should ask the others.”
“Of course. Although I think they would have told us as well. I believe you and I are now the only people who have been inside of Lightning’s sanctum.” He paused. “Did you see Daniel?”
I looked away, my stomach writhing. “I did. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. We didn’t talk for long. I wanted to get back here to you.”
He frowned. “It’s all right. We’re still working out the details of the experiments. I think I’ll have something solid by tonight.”
I took his hand. “Thanks for getting me into my sanctum.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t do anything. With you, I can always give a little push and you’ll get something done. How many successes do you need before you realize how competent you are?”
“Good question. Maybe another thirty years’ worth.”
He laughed. “All right. I will keep trying.”
Light danced in his tawny eyes. I didn’t deserve Nicolas’s constant attention, his Herculean efforts to improve me, or his endless patience. But when I met his gaze, I could see why he did it—the connection between us was so strong that it felt like a palpable thing, a tether. He put up with my imperfections, and I put up with his—what few there were—because we couldn’t not.
Love was its own brand of magic.
“Here is the plan,” Nicolas said.
He stood at the whiteboard in the soubou’s meeting room, the rest of us gathered around the long table, nursing late-night coffee and tea.
“We have three problems to solve,” he continued. “Problem One: Discover whether the entity within the sanctum truly is Daniel, trapped somehow by the magic. Problem Two: If the entity is Daniel, figure out how to unbind his life and essence from the sanctum. Problem Three: If we ascertain that the entity is Daniel and find a way to unbind him from the sanctum, we need to have a plan for binding him to this world.” He gestured to the empty board with a dry erase marker. “I have an approach for Problem One.”
“Just for Problem One?” Chandra asked.
“I think it will take us up to the conclave, if not longer, to see a meaningful result from Problem One,” Nicolas said. “We’ll plan for that, and work on Problem Two when it seems as though heading in that direction makes sense.”
I exchanged a look with Ryan. I already worked sixteen-hour days; I’d have to reorganize my schedule in order to help Daniel and make sure the other pinnacle members at the conclave wouldn’t crush me into dust.
“I’ve said before that magic isn’t innovative or creative,” Nicolas said. “This is true. Magicians are creative in their uses; magic as a raw material is not. Even a sanctum is bound by rules and does not vary from them. It does not make rational decisions. It does not form memories. It does not adapt unpredictably, not even Lightning. It does not think. That is the crux of our experiment—can the entity inside our sanctum think? Magic as we know it is straightforward. It cannot trick. So our testing will seek to discover if the entity can do something we wouldn’t expect magic to be able to do.”
I swallowed. I didn’t like Nicolas’s crisp, professional tone. I didn’t like that he kept calling Daniel “the entity.” Everyone else in the room watched him with rapt attention, but I found myself upset by the idea of proving anything.
Why wasn’t it as clear to Nicolas as it was to me that we were talking about Daniel? I’d held him in my arms, and his essence had called to me. Dan and I had always been drawn to one another.
&nbs
p; Nicolas shot a sharp glance my way, his expression fixed in warning, and I looked down.
“Here is how I want to start,” Nicolas went on, writing notes on the board as he explained his plan. “I want each of you to think up three memories you have with Daniel. These should be specific, memorable incidents that only you and Daniel were present for. Something unique to the two of you. I want you all to write down your detailed account of what happened in those memories. Everything you can possibly remember, no matter how small. From there, we will all take turns entering the sanctum in pairs—one tester, one observer. The tester will discuss each memory with the entity, with a different intent each time.
“For one of them, the tester will simply ask for the entity’s account of the memory, drawing out as many details as possible. This is the control test, to see if the entity has Daniel’s memory and can behave in a human way. As we all know, Daniel had an exemplary memory, practically perfect. This should prove to be no challenge. For one of the other memories, the tester will relay the story but will lie about three aspects of it, misrepresenting them. This test is to see if the tester can force the entity to adapt to lies, make corrections, and drive the conversation. For the final memory, the tester will engage the entity in conversation about it, with the intent to get the entity to discuss what-if scenarios and alternative things that could have happened in the memory or as a result of it. This test should indicate whether the entity can imagine or invent. In all three, the observer will take notes and act to keep the experiment on track if needed.
“There are some rules,” Nicolas went on. “When coming up with your memories and writing them down, do not tell anyone else what you are planning to discuss with the entity. Keep your ideas entirely to yourself. Enter your memories only into the specific files that will be labeled for you in the project folder. Additionally, try not to discuss anyone or anything else with the entity beyond your chosen memories. Finally, do not write down information related to the entity beyond the confines of the folders and databases for this project. It is important at this point that we do not talk about the potential of Daniel being alive outside of our clan, or let it affect our decisions or work on other projects.
“Teng will be going first when it comes to testing the entity. After he has conducted his experiment, he will be coordinating the testing and the rest of the data collection. Teng and I will be the only ones who will have access to all of the information at once. He will post a schedule of testing and the tester–observer pairings, as well as prepare the final reports.”
Teng gave a nod to the rest of us, his gaze lingering on me. He tilted his head at me. I shrugged. He put his gloved hands out in a sweeping gesture, palms down, as if to say Relax. He and I were really good at silent communication these days.
No one was paying attention to us. Most of them were already focused on their laptops or tablets, lost in thought. The grim determination in the room stifled me, but it warmed my heart to know we were all trying so hard for Daniel.
Teng was ready to go into the sanctum for his test the next day. Nicolas was going to be his observer, mostly because Nicolas was the only one who’d been inside the sanctum and could speak Cantonese, the language that Teng and Daniel were likely to conduct most of their conversation in.
“Anything I need to know, Commander?” Teng asked me as he, Nicolas, Ryan, and I gathered in the cold afternoon air outside of the temple.
Teng and I had settled into a comfortable relationship over the past months. We’d even gotten a little playful with each other, both of us possessing a sarcastic sense of humor. I appreciated his respect immensely, partially because it hadn’t been forced on him by Nicolas as it had with some of the others. Teng never allowed himself to be swayed by anyone else’s opinions; if he liked me, it was something I’d managed to do myself.
“Not really,” I said. “Tell me what you think of it when you’re back out.”
“Will do,” he said, bowing to the Buddha and then seating himself next to the sanctum. Nicolas joined him, while Ryan and I sat farther away—we were there in case something went wrong, but I didn’t expect any trouble.
I took out my tablet and started writing. I needed to get my memories with Daniel down. Lucky for me, I had plenty of memories of the two of us alone, and it took nothing at all for me to set my thoughts on him and get the words flowing.
The easiest and most soothing thing I’d done in months.
Teng’s experiment went well. I ended up first on the roster after him, in two days’ time. When I asked why I was chosen, Teng lifted an eyebrow at me and said, “I thought you’d explode with anxiety if you had to wait.”
I silently cursed him for being right.
Nicolas was full of calm reassurances and encouraging words at dinner that night. The two of us had gone out to Machiko’s, the small izakaya in town. The little pub only had four bar seats and four small tables. The corner one was luckily open, so we picked our way through the cramped space, Nicolas ducking to avoid the very low-hanging glass lanterns. The wall behind the bar was crammed with mostly whiskey and sake bottles, but this place also had a great selection of plum wine.
Nicolas, more fluent in Japanese than I was due to his annoyingly great ability to pick up languages, ordered us drinks and a wide array of food. Our worn wooden table was soon filled with glistening skewers of chicken, bowls of grilled shishito peppers, homemade soft tofu, and three different types of gooey, flavorful takoyaki.
The food distracted me, but I was still nervous about my upcoming test.
“It’s only a conversation,” Nicolas said. “Focus on that. You’re talking with Daniel. You’ve done that a million times.”
“Does Dan know what we’re doing?” I asked. “Did he guess with Teng?”
Nicolas shrugged. “Maybe. He’s very insightful. If so, he hasn’t said a word.”
“I don’t know if I can act normal,” I said. “I feel like I’m on stage. I hate being on stage.”
“Think about it as practice for the conclave,” Nicolas said.
I poked his shoulder. “You just had to remind me, didn’t you?”
“We’ll need to have a conversation soon about our strategy,” he said gently. “I know it’s a frightening topic, but it will be fine. I want you to try coming at it from a different perspective. You think you’re walking into a room full of sharks—magicians who are older and more powerful than you. But you are also a shark. You created this clan, Fiona. Don’t forget that, and don’t let them forget that.”
I leaned in to give him a quick kiss. “I know I once called you a shark, but I think if I’m a shark, you must be something insane. A kraken.”
He laughed. “A kraken?”
“Bigger and badder,” I clarified. “Cthulhu, maybe?”
He shook his head, his smile wide and amused. “An elder god. A sleeping monster.”
“Have you ever read any Lovecraft?” I asked.
“Oh, a long time ago, I suppose,” Nicolas said. “I will admit, I find his writing cumbersome, especially as English is not my first language. But his imagery is beyond comparison.”
“I love his writing,” I said. “I love the idea that there are mysteries out there, things that humans can’t or shouldn’t conceive of. That’s probably why I was drawn to magic. It’s so… foreign. Something beyond comprehension.”
“To you, perhaps,” Nicolas said. “You and I are different in that regard. You love magic’s mysteries, and you covet them. I hate them and seek to solve them.”
“Does that make me wrong?” I asked.
“Of course not,” Nicolas said. “It simply means the two of us will see different things. Different meanings, different challenges, different solutions.”
“But we’re still stronger together?” I asked, suddenly afraid and unsure.
Nicolas sensed my tension. “Of course, lamb. We will always learn from one another.”
A cold, creeping fear woke me from sleep that night. My bones vi
brated and rang like bells within me, my skin slithering repulsively. My heart thundered in my ears as magic ran over me again and again.
Alarm wards.
Next to me, Nicolas sat up, his breathing fast, his eyes wide in the darkness.
The alarm wards in our sanctum had been triggered.
We exchanged one brief glance before I threw myself out of bed and shoved my feet in my shoes, flying out the door with Nicolas right behind me. There was hushed commotion coming from the soubou as the others recognized the alarms, too. We all made it to the temple as a group, with Nicolas the first through the door.
The room was still and quiet, but the sanctum itself was brighter than usual, churning more violently than I’d seen it since its creation.
“I’ll check outside,” Sylvio said. Teng followed him out.
Ryan went to the glass panel by the wall, a sensor he’d rigged to report on details of the sanctum. It was glowing so brightly that he needed to shield his eyes to see what it was telling him.
“The inversion is off the charts,” he said. “If it moves any faster, it will become unstable.”
“Merde,” Nicolas said, studying the sanctum with a hand to the bridge of his nose.
“Can it do this by itself?” Chandra asked. “We’ve only seen power spikes when one of us was doing something to it.”
“Our sanctum isn’t exactly normal,” Irina said.
None of us had a response to that.
Sylvio returned, out of breath, brushing his blond hair from his eyes. “There’s no one out there. Nothing amiss. This isn’t some sort of attack.”
I exchanged a glance with Nicolas. I knew what he was debating without asking.
“I’ll go in,” I said.
“Is that a good idea?” Athena asked, looking around to Ryan and Teng.
“It’s fine.” I took a step closer. “I have the most experience, and I’ve been inside when it’s been like this before.”
Nicolas caught my wrist. “Be careful.”
I sank to my knees next to the sanctum and pressed my hands to it. Calm down, I thought, pulling our connection to the forefront of my mind and diving into it.
