by Andy Havens
She nodded. “Very perceptive. You’ve been in therapy before?”
“Me?” He seemed honestly surprised she’d asked. “Oh, no. Never. I just read quite a bit and employ a number of therapists and social workers on behalf of my employees and some of our non-profit organizations. I like to understand every aspect of my businesses.”
She nodded. “Of course. Then may I ask why you are seeking a therapist now?”
He ran a hand through his thick, silver hair and seemed a bit embarrassed. Charmingly so, she thought.
“I’m not. I’m here to see you specifically, Doctor. Personally.”
That took her a bit aback, though this time she maintained her composure. “And why is that, Mr. Ezer?”
“Because of Rain Vernon.”
Her heart stopped beating for a moment and she felt a prick of sweat instantly bead up at the base of her neck. She managed, barely, to keep her wits and show no outward sign of her anxiety.
“I’m sorry? Because of rain where?”
He shook his head. “There is no need to dissemble, Dr. Lyonne. I understand Rain had an agreement with you that required complete and total secrecy. As far as I know, you never broached that covenant, did you?”
She almost answered. Almost said, “Of course not.” He was that smooth. But she was experienced in deception herself.
“I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Ezer nodded and reached into his coat pocket. He removed a small, somewhat battered spiral-bound notebook and handed it across the desk to her.
It was filled with her handwriting. Her notes on Kendra White. The first of several notebooks she’d filled and delivered by hand to Rain Vernon over the past few years.
“How did you get this?” she asked, voice calm, though she was inwardly trembling. If Rain discovers that someone else knows about us, she thought, I know what he will do to me. I’ve seen what he can do, has done, to others who have betrayed him.
“Rain gave it to me. He worked for me. As you worked for him.”
That can’t be true, Sasha thought.
Thinking quickly, she managed a look of anger and exasperation and replied, “I still don’t know who or what you’re talking about. But all my notebooks are kept in a private storage unit. I’m going to have to ask you to tell me…”
But that’s as far as she got. Ezer reached across the desk, touched the back of her hand, and she felt/saw/heard/knew a Way envelop her from wrist to chest, toes to hair almost instantly. It was a warm feeling. A pleasant feeling. Like finding a precious, coveted object in a store at a ridiculously low price. A flush of discovery, of pride, of self-worth and anticipation.
He’s… one of them. But Rain never told me…
That was as far as logical thought took her before she surrendered to the waves of pleasure washing over and through her. It was the happiest she could ever remember being. It was all of her dreams of eternal youth and beauty and knowledge and power come true. It was knowing that every person who’d ever slighted or mocked her was now sure that she, Sasha Lyonne, was better than they. So, so much better.
They all want to be me now, she thought. Or be with me. Or both. Closer to me somehow. I can feel their envy and desire.
The rational part of her mind registered that Ezer had leaned back in his chair, waiting patiently without visible emotion. She wondered if he’d drugged her. Or hypnotized her.
No. No. It’s a Way. But not a Way of Earth.
“How old are you, Dr. Lyonne?” Ezer asked.
Without thinking, she replied, “One-hundred and thirty-nine.”
“Rain was keeping you physically young. That was his part of the bargain. What was yours?”
She shook her head. The waves of whatever-this-is still flowing through her. It has to be something like a drug. Something like dopamine or serotonin. She fought to keep control of her thoughts, but they kept coming back to how simply happy she was to be, well… better than everyone else.
“You are thinking this is an illusion,” Ezer said, leaning back a bit in his chair, gesturing broadly: a teacher about to lecture a student who’d come in for a tutorial. “Or some kind of chemical narcotic. I assure you it is not. What you are experiencing is an understanding of your true self. It is the kind of understanding that would normally take… someone like you… a lifetime of concentrated effort and introspection. It is the feeling of fully grasping your strengths while simultaneously knowing how to minimize your weaknesses. It is precision of self. In a minute or two the… sensual… part of the change will dissipate. But you will retain the deep self-knowledge of your place among your kind.”
It was true. The full bloom of the physical rush had already passed and Sasha was beginning to feel…
Cleaner? Sharper? More in control? More… myself?
It was an extraordinary feeling. Deep meditation and reflection had indeed, over the decades, given her brief glimpses into this kind of understanding. This feeling, though, was if she’d gone from dabbing at her psyche with a moist napkin to, well... Being completely immersed in a mirror of self.
Sasha was not a vain woman. She had never sought fame or wealth. When Rain had stopped and reversed the aging process for her he’d asked if she wanted also to be more beautiful. She had refused.
“I am as I am meant to be,” she’d told him. “I only wish to remain so for as long as possible.”
She’d been a nurse in France during the Great War when he recruited her. She had been studying psychoanalysis on the side, determined to get both a medical degree and a specialization in mental health. She was good at medicine and at helping people heal their souls’ wounds as well.
There isn’t enough time to learn it all, she’d told him.
Yes there is, my dear, he’d said, showing her the first Way she’d ever experienced, causing a tiny, dead weed to instantly come to life and sprout a flower.
She’d taken him up on his offer. Who wouldn’t? The chance to live longer, know more, be more. That was the prize. Not worldly fame or riches.
Sasha realized that the feelings of pride and superiority she’d felt from Ezer’s Way were simply an externalization of her new self-knowledge. It wasn’t important that others knew she was better, wiser and more blessed. Only that she knew.
“I understand,” she said out loud.
“You see now, Dr. Lyonne. Sasha… if I may. And you should call me Gareth, please.”
“Gareth,” she said, nodding. Still not quite sure what was happening.
“I am an… associate… of Rain. Or I should say, I was. I’m sorry to have to tell you, Sasha. But Rain was killed several weeks ago.”
That snapped Sasha right out of her pleasurable trance.
“Rain? Killed? I mean… How? What?” She was babbling, she knew. In front of this man… This Reckoner… she corrected herself. But how can Rain be dead? He was so powerful. So wise.
Ezer was nodding sympathetically. “I understand. You were good friends. He was your… mentor. It must be quite a shock.”
I’m not sure I thought he could die, Sasha realized. How many thousands of years? And now… gone?
“A shock. Yes. He was… a good friend.”
Ezer leaned forward, his earnest, wise face a study in concern, and said, “I’m afraid I have even more shocking news. He was killed by one of your patients: Kendra White.”
If she’d felt shock and horror at the news of Rain’s death, all she felt at this new twist was… disbelief.
“That can’t be,” she said, frowning. “She’s a child. A troubled child. Rain is… was…”
“Rain Vernon was a Master of Earth, Sasha,” Ezer finished her sentence. “He had thousands of powerful Reckoners at his command and knew more of the Ways of the Mother than any other being I’ve ever known. But I assure you… he was killed, brutally and purposefully, by Kendra White.”
Sasha sat silently, shaking her head.
We were watching her so closely, she thought. Between
her visits here and the gardening job, we were keeping nearly constant tabs on her. And the Ways in her mother’s house. And at her school.
“I don’t understand,” she said quietly.
Ezer nodded. “It’s a tragedy,” he said. “We will all miss him. His wisdom and his strength.”
“I mean, I don’t understand how Kendra could kill him.”
“I don’t either,” Ezer said. “But I intend to find out. That’s why I’m here.”
She nodded. “It’s why you touched me with your Way.”
“Indeed. As a confidante of both Rain and Kendra, I expect that you may be able to help to me in this matter. I have several thoughts on how to proceed. Some of them involve your active cooperation.”
A new patron? she thought. Perhaps not as strong as Rain, but certainly a powerful Reckoner.
“I’d be glad to help in any way possible,” she said. “Rain and I had many decades of… mutually beneficial arrangements.”
“I know, and I’m prepared to offer you similar… arrangements. Perhaps even more appealing ones. That will depend on how well you perform.”
“Of course,” she nodded. It’s always about their goals. Though I had thought of Rain as more than a patron. Maybe a friend. Who can tell with a creature so very different?
Ezer stood, the interview at an end.
“What will you want me to do?” Sasha asked.
“At first, only be more aware of the situation. With Rain gone, you may be contacted by others in his circle of influence. If that happens, pay careful attention and commit to nothing. And then call me.” He handed her a business card with a phone number on it and nothing else.
“If, however, Kendra visits you, contact me immediately. If possible, keep her with you until I or one of my teams can arrive. Don’t threaten her. Be… friendly. Sympathetic. But call me quickly.”
“I understand.”
Ezer buttoned his coat, shook out his cuffs a bit, adjusted his gold wristwatch and then tweaked his lapels.
Interesting, Sasha thought. I wonder if that’s conscious or automatic.
“Lastly,” he said, stepping closer to her as she stood from behind her desk, “if we have no news of Kendra within another week or so, I may ask you to visit her mother.”
“Oh? Why?”
“I’m not sure, yet. But it may be another route to finding her. I’ll keep you informed.”
With that, he held out his hand and she shook it—this time, firmly, professionally.
“Thank you for your time, doctor.” And then he smiled, almost a bit boyish, and corrected himself. “Sasha.”
“You’re most welcome… Gareth.”
As she shut the door behind him, she realized, I don’t even know what House he’s from. Rain never wanted me poking around in Domain politics. But someone as famous as Ezer in the Mundane world… one of my contacts must know who he is among the Reckoners. I’ll make a few calls…
Down on the street, Ezer gestured to the tall, blonde man who was still playing ball with the group of kids. The man tossed a ball back to them and they whined a bit to see him leave their game.
“Watch her,” Ezer said to the man. “I’m almost entirely certain she knew nothing of the Gardener’s treachery. She’s a pawn of his, but she may lead us to someone who knows more.”
The man nodded and reached for his coat which he’d folded neatly across the top of a mailbox.
“I could have handled this myself, sir,” he said as he put it back on.
Ezer nodded. “I know you could have, Charlous. But if she’d known anything important, I wanted to be there when it leaked out.”
“I understand, sir.” The blonde man said. “I’ll let you know what I find out. Hands off at this stage, yes?”
Ezer shook his head as they stepped off the curb into the Narrow Road, flowing almost instantly into high-speed movement. Reckoners of Increase were more adept than others at the Narrows, having done most of the work to create them.
“Not necessarily,” he replied. “Things are moving quickly. If she makes contact with anyone on our list, you have my marque to take them.”
“I understand, sir.”
“I know you do, Charlous.”
Ezer turned to face the tall, blonde man as they sped through traffic and around turns. For someone not familiar with the Ways, it would have seemed odd. Two men chatting, facing each other, as they raced down city streets at the speed of a bullet train.
“I have only spoken to a few within our House of the true danger we face. What we do now is already dangerously close to the edge of the Law, but can certainly be defended. I cannot express these suspicions widely. This is beyond kanli, but if House vengeance is invoked, it might actually help our enemies. We must proceed delicately.”
“Yet decisively.”
“Of course, Charlous. If I’d had any idea that the girl could harm, let alone kill Rain Vernon, I never would have set him against her. I spent years cultivating that traitor’s trust.”
Charlous nodded, grim and attentive.
“And now,” Ezer said, “another trail has grown cold. I have little faith that the… doctor… will yield any useful results. But if she does tease out any new threads, we must be ready to pull on them quickly.”
“I understand, sir.”
“I know you do, cousin. I know you do.”
The streets blurred by beneath them as they passed through city and countryside. When Ezer stepped off into a Way that would take him home, Charlous stayed on and rode the Narrow Road back into town, back to the street where Dr. Lyonne lived and worked. He called several Ways upon himself, unbuttoned his jacket, settled into a comfortable standing position with his back against a tree across the street and fell into something like and unlike sleep.
Chapter 3. Bargain
Tiny orange lights lit the steep steps leading down from the dungeon. The lights had burned without cease for nearly five thousand years. They had been lost for a time after the Great Flood, as had the cavern below. But generations of slaves had moved mountains of silt and quarries of stone, finally recovering the path. The Way had been rekindled, the steps cleaned and widened, the path lined with precious stones and pure onyx. The foundation of the new palace had been laid atop the stairway, blocked by only one small, unobtrusive door.
The barracks of the palace soldiers lay between the main areas of the castle and that locked door. To get there required passing through the ranks of hundreds of armed Thanes, dozens of the sorcerous Weyyrd, the spymaster’s quarters. And, then? There was still the dungeon. More guards, more twists and turns, more locks, more mysteries more passwords.
It was all unnecessary. For show. Because the only person who could open that door without being killed instantly was the Bloodlord himself.
My people do love a good performance, though, he thought, placing the unnecessary key in the unnecessary lock. Had anyone else attempted to open the door, they would have died a very unpleasant death.
It was fun to see who tried to steal the key, bribe the guards, suborn the soldiers and distract the spies.
Sekhemib Senbi opened the door with a great show of how heavy it was (it wasn’t) and how impressed he was with its heft (he wasn’t). The three Bloods who followed him, though, were duly awestruck.
As he closed the door behind them with a satisfying boom, he said, “The lights burn forever by the ties of Blood. May they lead us to truth.”
He made up different crap like that each time. Since he rarely had people down here more than once, he wasn’t that concerned. Who are they to question the wisdom of their Lord?
The steps were steep but regular and well kept. The two women and one man who preceded him down the stairs were, though startlingly old, relatively fit. Working the Ways of Blood prolonged vitality and health.
Another good reason to do more of my own magic, he thought.
The stairs turned again and again, the air around them becoming cooler and more damp with each twist. Fin
ally, after nearly a half-hour, they rounded a corner and came out into a great, open space beneath what seemed to be a constellation of bright, orange stars.
The cavern was enormous and the lights in its dome seemed miles away. Were they? Senbi didn’t know. It was just really intentionally, impressively big. The tiny lights made it seem more so.
Beneath the enormous arch of the false sky was the great, underground lake, called Wraidd, the Source, Krini. There were many words for it in many languages. It had been part of Blood folklore since the kin first told tales around a fire and recognized the Ways that bound hunter to family, brother to brother, chief to tribe.
The water was still as glass, reflecting back the tiny, orange lights above from its pitch-black depths.
The path from the stairway continued, paved in black, jutting out into the water like a dock, but barely a finger above the surface. Some trick of the light made it seem as if the paving was itself a liquid, just a bit more viscous than the water on either side. It was only discernable because the path did not reflect the lights from above hardly at all—it looked only like black rock on black water.
Senbi gestured to the three Weyyrd to follow him out into the lake. They did, murmuring thanks and polite phrases of obedience. From the shore, it seemed as if the path might lead into the darkness forever. The other side of the lake was not visible and the walkway merged with the water in the distance.
They went single file as the path was not wide enough for even two abreast. In time, the Waymaster woman from Bone Clan, last in line, looked back toward the shore they’d come from and saw that it, too, was gone.
Nothing but black behind her, nothing but black before. Only the tiny, false stars above and their dim, sleepy reflections in the water’s depths below.
I am in a dream, she thought. A dream of our holiest ancestors and earliest memories.
I am already in need of more coffee, thought her Lord. The climb back up is going to be a bitch.
Finally, the path widened into a circle about twenty feet across. It resembled a small courtyard with a raised, round altar in the middle surrounded by a low, circular stone bench.
