She followed her train of thought and recalled a time when she’d had a severe injury to her hamstring as a teen. Physical rehabilitation had been necessary to get her back in shape. Could there be some kind of psychic equivalent? Maybe I can’t connect because my strength keeps overwhelming hers and drowning her out?
It made a kind of sense to Bithia. Psychic powers were like singing voices. Sometimes the volume from a strong and confident baritone overwhelmed a timid soprano’s by mere comparison, and Bithia knew she tended to be a loud psychic. She remembered burning away the minds of the vyrm lichs, the race’s psychics, who tried to stop her at the Temple of Koth. Bithia knew she could be intense, and for all her power, she sometimes forgot the need for finesse.
A pang of guilty emotion rang deep within her gut and she watched the birds for several more long minutes. She didn’t like these long bouts of self-examination. The last few days were filled with them and they only reminded Bithia of her growing loneliness.
Bird watching was a dreadfully boring distraction.
Bithia paced back and forth in her apartment. Finally, she sat down on her couch with a sigh and spoke aloud. “Okay, Claire. I know you’re there, even if I’m having trouble finding you. It hasn’t been my intention to squelch you; I’m sorry if that’s what has been happening.”
She closed her eyes and, using only the slightest touch of her abilities, initiated a meditative trance. “I’ll leave it up to you to make contact… much like you did the first time we met.”
The princess, still entranced, found herself on the astral plane and discovered a familiar environment. She was in an old memory.
Bithia walked through the hallways of the castle; mist crawled across the floor and the lights were low, filling the hallways with shadow. In the vision she was not a child, but she remembered this day from when she had been a very young girl.
Thinking about the odd nature of dreams and visions threatened to destabilize this one and so Bithia pushed any concerns away. She simply let the vision exist and operated within it.
The princess hurried through the corridors, frantically searching for any other people. It had been this way when this memory had occurred. Nitthogr had somehow accessed the castle, not a military breach, but an infiltration. The sorcerer could not overwhelm these walls, and so he must have seduced someone from the royal court. The enemy had not been inside the castle since his fall to the vyrm and his presence shattered the seeming sense of security. The childhood fear created this criterion moment within Bithia’s mind.
We were not as safe as we thought. If the enemy can corrupt our members, he could gain access whenever he desires—I shall never be safe!
Bithia reminded herself that this was only a memory. Without a cadre of enemy psychics invading the astral plane, these memories could not harm her unless she believed in their power. “I am in control, here,” she said.
A laugh boomed in the shadows, low and guttural. It unnerved Bithia to her core, and she felt the dark presence: the spirit of Nitthogr.
Every shred of his spirit felt visceral and real. She was something of an expert in the astral plane and Bithia could tell when a presence there was real and when it was fake.
She backpedaled through the halls. “No. You’re dead,” she insisted. “I watched you get sucked into the rift between reality and the nether-void where Sh’logath consumes.” Bithia tried to convince herself that this was just a part of the memory; this had been the first time Nitthogr had made an attempt to abduct her.
The dark presence reached back, touching her with a terrifying glimmer of icy darkness and Bithia knew that the presence was real. His spirit is still somehow alive!
She turned and fled down the hall. Her footsteps splashed fog into whirling eddies behind her.
Bithia sprinted up her steps and to the door of her room in the same apartment where she now resided. A pang of terror rippled through her. This was the same place where Nitthogr had finally seized her after the castle walls fell, though no furnishings adorned the dream-place except for a full mirror.
The looking glass was one of the many magical kinds that the castle had contained over the centuries. This one in particular she did not recognize, except that it had a kind of aura that glowed powerful on this plane of existence.
She looked into the mirror, half expecting to find Zabe climbing the vines that ensconced the castle walls and coming to her rescue. But that was a different memory, she knew, and he had not rescued her on that occasion.
Instead, Bithia spotted Claire in the mirror. She stood on the other side of the glass, looking impatient and with her arms crossed.
Bithia locked the door behind her and approached the mirror. She hoped the barrier might keep the dark presence from entering at least for a little while.
“Claire?” Bithia ventured, goose stepping towards her, doing everything she could to keep the vision from dissipating.
Looking upset, Claire nodded sternly.
As Bithia approached, she noted her other self’s red, puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.
“You put me here,” Claire accused.
“I’m sorry,” Bithia said, trying to understand and find a way to rectify the situation. She asked, “Where is here? Let me help you escape.”
“I’ve been trapped in here for weeks, re-living every failure and meaningless moment of my life. It’s made me dwell on my regrets and given me lots of time to think… too much time.”
“Claire, I’m so sorry,” Bithia repeated. “I really didn’t mean to…”
“I think you did, though,” Claire interrupted. “Deep down you meant to push me out. You suspected this would happen when that energy wave hit.”
“I was trying to save us,” Bithia argued.
“That’s what you told yourself, sure. You kept insisting that you were the more powerful version of ourself—but you know what? I have strength too, and you were jealous of that!” Claire’s voice cracked as she yelled at the princess.
Bithia slumped. She didn’t admit as much, but she suspected that Claire could have been right. “Let me get you out of here, first. It may not be safe here. I sensed the presence of…”
“Of course it isn’t safe. That’s what this whole vision means, isn’t it? No place is safe! And that’s your excuse for everything, for taking control of us and for taking him.”
Bithia looked wounded. She knew that Claire meant Zabe. “Claire, I would never…”
“Of course you would. You got jealous because Zabe grew to love me—perhaps more deeply than he loved you—and then when I began growing in my role as the princess—a role you forced on me, by the way—you couldn’t handle it.”
Bithia only stared at her, shocked by the accusation, and bewildered at the thought that she might be right. Did I allow myself to do something terrible in a moment of weakness?
Claire continued, her rage unabated. “I am stronger than you think. And if you’re going to take something that I love, then I’ll take something that you value above all else.”
“Oh, Claire,” Bithia began to tear up, and she sensed the dark presence closing in. The shadows had arrived at the door and hit it with a violent shudder. “You’ve got to believe me—you’ll never know how sorry I am. But we’ve got to start working together. Let’s go back to how it used to be.”
Claire turned her back on Bithia and stiffened her neck to indicate she was ignoring the princess. “I should just let you stew in your guilt and remorse.”
Bithia did not know how to make it right, and she felt the spirit of Nitthogr growing closer. The enemy hit the door again, trying to break it down. “We’re better together—we always have been, Claire… ever since I gave you the spirit of the Prime.”
Claire kept her back turned, and Bithia sensed that no amount of pleading would get her attention.
Again, something hit the door, differently this time, and Bithia turned her head to address it. This noise was not in the vision… someone was knocking on t
he door.
Bithia pulled herself out of the trance, grateful for an actual distraction, any distraction. Now that I know where to find her, I can always go back and pick this conversation up again. Perhaps Claire will change her mind, soon?
She sighed and answered the door.
Chapter 5
Bitha opened the door to find Gita standing awkwardly on the threshold. The short, female soldier looked nervously over her shoulder. A tall soldier from the Royal Military, one of Chira’s appointments, hovered nearby with a hand resting on the butt of his blaster. She was not dressed in her Corpsmen armor and Bithia almost didn’t recognize her without it.
The princess waved him off, though she was glad that the castle guard was on top of things. Her recent dream walk had left her with freshly frayed nerves. She shuddered and put the sensation of an evil presence she’d detected within her walls far from her mind.
“Gita. How can I help you?”
The diminutive girl leaned in and embraced her in a hug that belied the tiny girl’s strength. Bithia had not had the chance to get to know her well, although she’d known Gita and Jackie were close and that Wulftone and Zabe both spoke highly of her. She also knew that they had to specially fit some of the Guardian Corps’ armor to fit her.
Where are you, Zabe? Bithia wondered again, as she did each time her thoughts touched on him. He’d had find her a shrunk-down version of armor in the past, too—and Gita was smaller, yet.
Bithia returned the hug, not realizing until right now just how badly she had also needed one. She discreetly pulled several twigs and branches out of the soldier’s hair, letting the sprigs fall to the floor in the hall.
Gita pulled away and looked sheepishly at the bramble. “Sorry. I went hiking earlier.” She blushed, “Sorry about the hug, too. I’m just… so lonely right now with Jackie gone and with Jenner…” she trailed off.
“Please come in,” Bithia insisted. “I’d been meaning to get to know you, too. I’ve just been so busy with… you know, royal stuff. The whole Akko Soggathoth thing put a damper on my schedule.”
Gita nodded enthusiastically and followed her within. “I know what you mean, Princess Claire…”
“Please, just call me Claire,” Bithia said. “Any of Jackie’s friends are my friends.” She made the decision on the fly that the circle of people who knew her true identity needed to remain small, even among friends. “Do you want something? Can I get you some coffee, maybe?”
Gita wrinkled her nose. “No thank you, unless you know that Krispee Kreme recipe for Earth donuts? Jackie usually has some of those stashed somewhere.”
Bithia grinned. “Actually, I do. Tay-lore was the one to come up with the recipe. Ironic, since he doesn’t even eat.”
Gita smiled, and the princess opened a box on the table where they shared a plate of the foreign pastries.
“I feel like I’ve known you for a while, uh, Claire,” Gita made an effort to leave off the honorific.
“I know what you mean,” Bithia agreed. “I’m actually glad you came. I’ve been feeling the same way—desperately lonely. Zabe is… off being Zabe… and Jackie and Wulftone are honeymooning. My father and Shandra are away, too.”
Gita’s face clouded at the mention of Sam Jones. “Yeah. At least you’ve got a father, though,” her tone darkened.
Bithia remembered that Gita’s family had been recorded as casualties of Nitthogr’s invasion, much as Jenner’s had been. She changed the subject and made a note that it was a sore topic for her.
“Sorry,” Gita said, realizing that she’d snapped at the heir and ruler of the multi-verse. “I’m just very testy lately. Do you ever feel like life has gotten away from you?”
Bitha nodded enthusiastically. “You have no idea. I keep waiting for something good to happen—to pull my life out of this tailspin I seem to be stuck in.”
“Well, you’ve got a royal wedding to look forward to, don’t you?”
Bithia feigned a smile.
“And then you’ll have children to look forward to. At least… at least you’ve still got Zabe and a plan for your life—a plan that doesn’t include someone else controlling you—telling you what to do.”
Bithia masked her surprise at Gita’s emotional dump. Is someone blackmailing her? Maybe she’s being taken advantage of in some way?
Gita continued. “I wonder if it’s the same with Jenner? I can’t believe he would ever do what they are accusing him of. Zabe and Wulftone trained him better than that.” Her eyes pleaded for her boyfriend’s life, though she wouldn’t come out and ask overtly for her intervention as a matter of protocol. That would make her visit seem insincere.
Bithia hadn’t been paying much attention, anyway. Her mind still turned over and over with the questions of what was going on with Gita. Is it somehow connected to Jenner and Zahaben’s murder? I’ve got to get to the bottom of it.
The princess asked a few questions to try to glean some more data, but Gita didn’t give up anything else and Bithia didn’t feel like they were close enough that she could come out and ask directly if someone was extorting or abusing her. At least she could be confident that it wasn’t Jenner, if someone was.
She decided to use her psychic abilities to glean the information from her new friend’s mind. Normally, she wouldn’t intrude on someone’s mental privacy without permission, but something seemed very off.
Bithia bit her lip and stewed in the guilt of it. She knew she was rationalizing her decision. She also knew that she’d made it a habit and that could be a red flag for someone abusing his or her powers; Claire’s chastisement burned in her ears, but Bithia pushed ahead anyway.
Gita had continued talking, opening up wide enough that Bithia didn’t think she could have stopped her if she wanted.
Bithia nodded along politely but stretched out to psychically probe the girl. Her face fell as she tried.
“Claire? All you alright, Claire?” Gita asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Bithia had frozen in shock. “I… I’m alright,” she lied, trying to calm herself and pretend nothing was wrong, even though panic coiled around her heart. No matter what Bitha tried, she couldn’t get a reading on Gita and when she stretched out her astral senses, nothing returned.
The princess had suddenly lost all her psychic abilities.
Claire’s words from their astral meeting rang in the princess’s ears. I am stronger than you think. And if you’re going to take something that I love, then I’ll take something that you value.
***
Earth
Vikrum Wiltshire stared at the footage of the theft and watched it again. He studied the blue lettering outlined with white and orange. n Astrod… The detective thought it could be part of a logo of some sort, but the world was a large place, and every company logo on the planet encompassing every industry for the last eighty or so years meant the possibilities were almost endless.
He growled his displeasure and clicked back through some data on search engines. So far, his efforts proved futile and his mind strayed back to the Codex Gigas.
Time was imperative. The more time passed since the theft and the greater the likelihood was that he would not be able to locate the thieves and cash in on his reward. The reward was everything to him; with it, he would either locate Atticus, or avenge him.
He’d had a hacker friend execute some custom facial recognition software, and it had led him to a couple possible matches on the woman, but the younger boy was a ghost. Of the three possibilities for her, one jumped out right away: Cerci Heiderscheidt had been a researcher working for a private R and D firm that Wiltshire traced back to a Heptobscurantum shell corporation.
The occult detective practically ignored the other two: a beauty pageant queen from Illinois and a college party diva from Seattle. Neither of them fit the profile, but Heiderscheidt had gotten her passport a couple years ago and left for Germany when the Heptobscurantum dismantled her program. Shortly after that, Wiltshire�
��s research revealed a rash of similar, unexplained robberies which were still unsolved. They’d stopped for a period and then recently begun again.
Wiltshire’s best guess linked them together, but why the robberies had resumed, and why Heiderscheidt was now stealing from her former employer didn’t make much sense. It didn’t establish a pattern… but if another of the Illuminati was robbed in the same manner, he would know for certain. But motive wouldn’t help him locate Heiderscheidt and her mysterious companion.
He also didn’t have any leverage on her if he could find her and Wiltshire wasn’t prone to bullying or threatening young women. She had been a foster child, raised mostly by CPS and foster homes, and she’d been something of a scientific savant. She’d attended college early, barely had any friends, and was barely in the system aside from the online college ID that Wiltshire’s hacker had used to identify her. The only other blip she had on any network was her student loans, which had just been paid off in full, in fact. One lump sum of nearly a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. He felt pretty sure he’d found his girl.
Wiltshire sighed and combed his hair roughshod with his fingers. He didn’t have anywhere else to turn for details and his mind had begun to fray under the stress of long and tedious hours coupled with a lack of sleep.
He knew powering down to refresh himself was a necessity, even if he wouldn’t be able to easily get much sleep with so many rogue ideas bouncing around in his head. Wiltshire poured himself a standard of single-malt scotch and threw back a cocktail of valerian, melatonin, and Unisom to help knock him out, washing the pills down with the smoky whiskey.
Before Wiltshire got too groggy, he opened a browser window and punched in details for one of his contacts. He typed up as many details as he could think of, including a few frames of the video, and attached them to the message to a mysterious person he knew who went by the handle Tay-lore.
The Architect King Page 6
