Tuning the Symphony (Dissolution Cycle)

by William C. Tracy

  Vethis looked between both of them, one hand on his chin. “There are…other… things we can do, you know. No one need ever hear of this.”

  Rilan shook her head. “Absolutely not.” She would have to be a whole lot weaker before she let Vethis get away with something like that.

  Once she got her breath back, she leaned over the fallen Festuour, listening to the Symphony of Healing play out. She touched Ket’s brow with one finger, sparking white and olive as she picked the right notes and changed them so the false majus would sleep. She didn’t have to do much with the head injury. There was blood in her fur where Vethis hit her, still flowing. Rilan could tell from the Symphony it wouldn’t kill her, but Ket would be out for a while.

  She stood back up, wincing as pain spiked through her own head. “Let’s see this room.” She gestured Vethis forward, who led with a frown. She knew what he wanted, and he wasn’t getting it if she got her way. Origon followed behind them.

  The journals were the largest part of Ket’s collection. They dated back nearly fifteen cycles. They spent some time looking through them, during which she and Origon both kept an eye on Vethis.

  “Look here.” Rilan waved a sheet. They had been reading for several minutes. “She was working with a majus from the House of Potential.” She read the journal entry again. “One I don’t recognize. Sounds like he had a heart attack and…the equipment somehow transferred his ability to her. She doesn’t even know how it happened. I was right. She wasn’t a majus, to begin with. Can that even happen?”

  “I have never heard of it,” Origon answered. “If it is possible, it would be shaking the maji to the very core. Our entire institution is depending on the scarcity of maji. Imagine if everyone could be changing the Symphony.” Rilan saw Vethis give a dramatic shiver.

  “What would that many changes to the Symphony do?”

  “Most likely unravel the universe,” Vethis said. He hefted a sheaf of notes. “But I believe the ability can only be stolen, or given away. She believed there was a natural constant to the maximum number of maji, a universal constant, if you will.”

  “She was beginning as merely an acoustic scientist,” Origon added, reading his own pages. “She was to be working on a way to channel the Grand Symphony.” He gestured to another page. “This is to be from three cycles ago. Are you remembering the majus north of Martflen that the sheriff mentioned?” Rilan nodded, recalling the Festuour’s words, a chill running through her. He hadn’t seen her for three cycles.

  “That was to be her second victim,” Origon said. “A majus of the House of Power. It was at the same time she made this lab.” His face tightened, his crest hanging limply. “And then she began testing the apparatus on Kirians. Probably to keep the focus away from this location. Delphorus found out about her and began investigating. I believe he was merely in the wrong place at the wrong time, doing his duty. I am wondering if she even received any benefit from draining his energy away.” He paused, as if unwilling to say his next words. “Maybe I was doing that long ago.”

  “You can’t believe that,” Rilan told him. “You can hear two of the six Symphonies that make up the universe. You didn’t steal them. She did.”

  Origon nodded, but she could tell his heart wasn’t in it. This would take a long time to heal, but it would, with her help.

  Vethis didn’t seem interested in the journals any longer, putting down his papers to poke through the spare parts. Pouting, more likely. He would have been the next victim. Ket must have only drained enough of his song to create the system making the beasts into her guard dogs. Why had she waited so long in between the majus north of Martflen and Vethis? Training her new powers, maybe, and building her equipment. It might explain why those changes were so well put together while the one from the House of Healing was so sloppy.

  “How did she handle so many houses at once?” Rilan asked, both to change the subject, and out of curiosity. She hadn’t found anything to explain that yet.

  To her surprise, Vethis answered. “It’s something that horrible machine does,” he said, fingering a steam valve. “She created it. It lets the recipient keep from losing his or her mind, as well as stealing notes from maji. Otherwise she would have been dead by now.” He looked up suddenly. “She, ah, mentioned something about it while I was lying on that table.”

  They finished looking through the notes, and took them back to the main room. They would take them to the Council along with Ket. This was too important to leave to any one majus.

  Origon dusted his hands. “Are we ready to be going? I will open a portal from here and you can be taking the rogue majus through.”

  Of course he would give her the dirty work. “Come over here and help me,” she called to Vethis. She wasn’t picking up Ket all on her own. Festuour weren’t light.

  “One moment.” Vethis’ voice was airy, distracted. “Just one more thing.”

  Rilan heard the faint click at the same time as Origon. Both of them spun to the other side of the room, where Vethis was quietly adjusting dials on the hiss-tick machine.

  “No!” Rilan reached out a hand, but it was too late. Something was already rising from Ket—a blob of orange and brown. She ran to the Festuour, but before she could gain the full score of the other’s music, Ket had breathed her last.

  “She deserved that,” Vethis spat. “No one steals from me.” He spun back to the machine, pulling levers and pushing buttons. “Now let’s see how far behind I am, with three houses at my disposal. Give me only a few moments. I’ll even be fair. You can try it after I do.” How had he learned to use the machine? She knew the man wasn’t stupid, just lazy. He must have observed Ket or seen instructions when he was in the secret room alone.

  “Vethis, stop this!” Rilan shouted.

  “No chance.” He darted a look back at them, then toward the machine. “You can’t stop me. I know this location. If you drag me away now, I’ll merely come back later, when you aren’t looking. You cannot have eyes on me all the time. This will take but a moment. Think of the benefits when we know how this works.”

  Surely he didn’t think they would let him get away with this? Rilan looked to Origon, to Vethis, and back. She had to do something, quickly.

  Origon locked eyes with her, pointed to her, to Vethis, and then tapped his temple. Rilan looked aghast at him. Was he saying what she thought? It was an intrusion of the worst kind.

  Origon raised his bushy eyebrows and pointed to the man’s back.

  Rilan took a deep breath, stepping quietly across the floor, using training her father taught her in her youth to step silently. Vethis hadn’t looked a second time, absorbed in the details of the hiss-tick machine, hands moving quickly over the controls. She heard the Symphony of his body come into clarity as she got closer, then the more subtle Symphony of his mind. She would need to touch him for this to work, but she gathered the pieces of the Symphony in her mind beforehand, noting where she would use her song to make adjustments to chemicals in his brain.

  She hesitated only for a moment, standing behind him. He was still adjusting dials, directing the machine to give him the stolen abilities. Hers were not the heroic actions the Council championed, but she was still serving the people of the Great Assembly. She couldn’t imagine a Nether with Vethis in control of three houses, any more than Ket, or anyone else, for that matter.

  He must have finally heard or felt something, but he turned too late. Rilan put her open palm on his glossy black hair.

  She changed his mind.

  It was a complex adjustment, burning away memories of the last few days. Much of it she had to do quickly as she encountered the deeper levels of the Symphony defining his mind, catching notes and musical phrases as they flew past. Many sections went almost too fast, but she kept on, her lips pressing together. He fought back, weakly, but he was surprised and she had the full measure of his Symphony. She merely brushed his efforts away. This was her discipline. She was a psychologist. And she was a majus of the Ho
use of Healing.

  She was supposed to help people with mental issues, not take advantage of them. It was so easy to slide into rationalizing that this was necessary. This would be the first and last time she did such a thing.

  Rilan found his hatred of her along the way, burning as brightly as hers of him. She peeked at the chords, surprised to recognize jealousy and shame among them, even more than the hatred. She could just…

  No. She resisted the urge to remove it, and gave that tiny win to her conscience. She understood a little better now why he antagonized her. But why was he jealous? If he just applied himself, he could be every bit as effective as she was in the House of Healing.

  From now on, every time he looked at her, every time he spoke, she would remember she had the opportunity to change that view of her, and hadn’t. She would be the better person.

  When she was done, Vethis sank down into a sleep similar to the one Ket had been in. Before he killed her. She wanted him to answer to the Council for his actions, but that was impossible now. He would recall nothing of the past three days. That was more important even than bringing this to the Council.

  Rilan found her hands shaking, and not with fatigue. She looked to Origon and something in her face must have told him what she was thinking.

  “This was to be the right thing to do,” he said. “And this is what being a majus truly is. Are you understanding, now, why I spend so much time on the homeworlds and away from the Nether?”

  Rilan thought she did, just a bit. Things happened out here. Things with no right or wrong answer. The Council, for all its power, could not control everything. It was up to the individual majus to do that. But too many maji stayed in the Nether, preferring to turn a blind eye. His words sank in, and her next question became clear.

  “With Ket dead, there’s no proof here any longer.” After the results of Vethis’ betrayal, they must get rid of this threat forever. “Should we really give the research to the Council?”

  Origon gave her a lopsided half-smile, several pointy teeth showing on one side. “What do you think they will be doing with the knowledge?”

  Rilan thought for several moments on that, listening to the hiss-tick that filled the silent room. She eyed Vethis, curled up on the floor.

  “Even if they kept it secret, sooner or later someone would come along with more ambition than sense.”

  “Someone like him?” Origon nodded at the slumbering Vethis.

  Rilan grimaced at the thought of Vethis ever being on the Council. That would be the day.

  “So what do we do with it?” She looked around the cavern.

  “We destroy it,” Origon answered, as if that had been his plan all along.

  It took time, but they disconnected all the machinery from the pipes and from the steam generators. Rilan bent the ends of the pipes so they wouldn’t connect to the machines again easily. Origon was the one to destroy the research. She thought he might make some grand change to the House of Power to cause them to combust, but instead he produced a set of matches from somewhere in his robe.

  “Sometimes easier is to be better.” He set the pile of notes alight.

  Rilan watched the journals burn. “Someday I’ll be on the Council. I’ll make it so these things don’t happen anymore.”

  Origon only smiled at her. “But first, I am hoping you’ll travel with me. This has been…exciting.”

  Rilan thought over the last several days and shook her head. “Exciting” wouldn’t have been her first choice of words.

  “We should hide the cave entrance, too,” she said.

  Councilor Feldo was manning the portal ground at the Spire of the Maji when they came back to the Nether. Rilan knew even the councilors were not exempt from this duty, but she had never actually seen one at the post.

  “Celebrating your success?” the councilor asked, arching an eyebrow at the limp form of Vethis slung between them. They had left Ket’s body in the cave with her equipment, under a pile of rubble. Origon had been adept at exploiting hidden faults in the cave system with the House of Power. It was unlikely anyone would find it now. “I am surprised Apprentice Vethis accompanied you.”

  “Merely a short trip to be exploring the possibilities inherent in becoming a majus,” Origon said.

  “You did suggest we should work together,” Rilan added, smiling innocently.

  Councilor Feldo only grunted at them, his bushy black beard pointing accusingly until they left the portal ground.

  They dropped Vethis off in his room. He would wake up thinking he had celebrated far too heavily the night before with his rich cronies. Rilan knew it wasn’t an uncommon thing for him, and his friends likely wouldn’t be able to remember either. Another few days lost to intoxicants.

  They collapsed at Origon’s apartment. They both needed to use his bath.

  “I’ll need to find another place to live, now that I’m a majus,” Rilan told him.

  “You were never giving me an answer, before,” he said.

  “Will I travel with you?”

  Origon nodded.

  Rilan found she didn’t have to think as hard about that as she expected. “Will there be more like this?”

  “Much more,” he said, his crest fluttering in excitement.

  “Then maybe next time we can find a proper inn or hostel to stay in while we travel,” Rilan told him.

  Origon gave her a full pointy smile—the one that disconcerted most of her species, but not her. “With a comfy bed.”

  Rilan smiled back. “I’ll bring my things up tonight, then.” She started to get up from one of his overstuffed chairs.

  “I will be needing to contact Wint, to send my brother’s body back,” Origon said, getting up as well. “He is likely wondering where we went and hoping we also are not going to turn up dead in the forest.”

  “They do like to avoid hubbub,” Rilan added, and was rewarded with a sad smile from Origon.

  He went to the mantle, pulling one piece of paper from his pocket, and picking up a portrait. It was the same one she had seen before, of him and his brother, both looking much younger.

  “What is that?” Rilan asked.

  Origon looked guilty only for a moment. “A memento. I was going to be saving it to remind me of this.”

  Rilan crossed to him quickly and snatched the paper from him. Her eyes widened as she realized what it was.

  “What are you doing?” she cried. The paper was one of Ket’s journal entries, describing how the abilities of the majus of the House of Potential transferred to her. “If this became public, someone could replicate Ket’s work. I didn’t attack a colleague and erase his memory just for you to mess it up!”

  Origon’s jaw worked, but he said nothing. Gently, he put the picture back on the mantle. His hand went to his moustaches, running down their length. Slowly, Rilan looked around his apartment, filled with knick-knacks and trinkets from all over the ten homeworlds. What else was hidden here?

  She thrust the paper back at him. “Burn it,” she said. “Burn it, or you can have adventures by yourself.”

  Origon took the paper back, sighed, and nodded at her. “I like to keep…items to remind me of my travels. But you are to be correct. I am not thinking straight, still.” He glanced to the picture, then back to her. “This is to be why I need you with me. I have been too long by myself, traveling among the homeworlds.” He concentrated on the paper between his fingertips. An orange aura swept up it, followed by flame. The paper crumpled, but Origon watched her.

  Rilan understood. The fire was not a reversible change. Origon would lose notes of his song by making it, but he wanted her to know he was serious.

  “You will come with me now?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “Then there is to be one more thing. You must call me ‘Ori’ from now on,” he told her.

  Well, it’s shorter, Rilan thought. It will be easier to get his attention, the next time we’re fighting for our lives.

&n
bsp; “It was something only Delphorus called me,” he continued. “I was never to be fond of it, but now I am thinking I will be wanting to hear the term again, to remind me of him. I am also thinking you would be the only one I could bear to call me that.” He was looking down, at the paper crumbling to ash, but she could hear his voice shake.

  Rilan couldn’t speak for a moment, fighting around the lump in her throat. She wasn’t an emotional woman.

  “I would be honored, Ori,” she said.

  If you enjoyed this book, please leave a brief review at your online bookseller of choice. Thanks!

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  Continue the story in Merchants and Maji and The Seeds of Dissolution!

  Acknowledgements

  Many people helped this book become a reality. Thanks first to my wife, Heather, for putting up with many nights of ignoring her while I was writing. She gives me excellent feedback and is my favorite sounding board (as well as being a few of my other bests and favorites). Second, a big thank you to my alpha and beta readers: James Olinda, Drew Gula, Dave W, David Vizcaino, Courtney Brooks, Reese Hogan, and all the folks at Reading Excuses for critiquing my submissions. Robin Duncan gets a special shout-out for excellent critiques and suggestions through several stories set in this universe. Thanks to Shrike76 for the suggestion of using “song.” Thanks to Micah Epstein for the awesome cover and interior art. Check out his paintings at micahepstein.blogspot.com. Finally, many thanks to the members of the Writing Excuses podcast for spending their valuable time teaching and encouraging new writers. Without their advice, this would likely have never been published.

  About the Author

  I am a North Carolina native and a lifelong fan of science fiction and fantasy. In no particular order, I am a mechanical engineer, a karate instructor, a video and board gamer, a reader, and a writer. In my spare time, I wrangle three cats and somewhere between one and six guinea pigs, and my wife wrangles me (not an easy task). We both enjoy putting our pets in cute little costumes and then taking pictures of them repeatedly. You can visit my website at williamctracy.com.