by Andy Havens
The Episkopos, a small and somewhat dainty man seemingly in his seventies, grinned the beatific grin of all clerics, everywhere, who love to share their craft with the outside world. On their own terms.
He said something in response, but Kendra was too involved experiencing the coffee.
This is a problem, she thought. I’m probably never going to be able to have coffee from anywhere else again. It’s not right for this stuff to be this much better. Holy crap.
She nodded as if she’d heard him and took another sip.
Holy. Crap.
Impossible to describe. It was the Ur Joe. The Platonic Ideal of coffee from which all other brews were mere shadows.
She’d been warned to sip slowly, and she understood why. It wasn’t strong in the way “normal” coffee was. There was no bitterness or bite or tang. But she could tell that if she didn’t take it easy, she’d be wired for hours on just a couple cups.
It finally registered to her that the others were all kind of smirking and watching her.
“Don’t worry, my young friend,” the Episkopos said. “Everyone has a similar reaction.”
“Thank you, uh… your… I’m sorry. I don’t know what to call you.”
She put the coffee down, reluctantly, with more than half left. I’ll have another sip in a couple minutes. Draw it out. Savor it. Make it last.
“You can just call me Sa Martin, Kendra. While I am the nominal head of our order, we are all equals within the Cathedral. The Sae of the Gate are a very democratic lot. I’m mostly in charge of administrative details that the others aren’t si fond of.”
He smiled softly and Kendra thought he was probably being modest. The man radiated a kind of calm strength. Being near him actually made her feel less anxious and stressed out.
Their entire party had gathered here on a wide balcony after Kendra and Vannia had taken a little while to clean up. It was the level of the Cathedral just below the first of the “steps,” and so rested on a kind of shelf all the way around the curved edge of the building. This section was walled off from those on either side, but was large enough to accommodate a much bigger crowd than the eight of them.
Monday and Ezer sat on wrought iron garden chairs on either side of a small table. Vannia was perched on the ledge of a quietly bubbling fountain. The turquoise-haired woman from Flux, Annie, was sitting on the grass itself, and Niles Fayton of Release was in a chair opposite Vannia. McKey couldn’t sit still for some reason, and was pacing near the stone railing of the balcony, looking up and down as if searching for something.
Realizing an absence, Kendra asked, “Where’s Wallace?”
Ezer answered, “We already have two from Sight here. More than that would be, well… Unbalanced, I think. Plus, he’s not really senior enough for these conversations.”
McKey looked at Ezer and Kendra could swear she stuck her tongue out a little.
Sa Martin waved away the explanation as if it was trivial. “Your friend is engrossed in study with several of the Sae,” he said. “We have ancient resources here unavailable anywhere else. Not even in Mr. Monday’s Library itself.”
Monday nodded, taking a sip of his own coffee. “I always enjoy visiting with you, Sa Martin. Excellent accommodations and study facilities.”
“How long has it been, my friend?” the old-seeming fellow asked. He was wearing a kind of semi-uniform that Kendra had seen on all the members of the Cathedral’s order; loose, black slacks, a kind of billowy, black top and a narrow scarf-thing that draped over the shoulders. The drapes were colored differently and were embroidered with different symbols.
Different concentrations within the order? Kendra wondered. Merit badges?
Monday raised one white eyebrow and answered, “One-thousand-and-three years, four months, nine days.”
“Ah yes. You were here to speak with Sa Renoit.”
The Librarian nodded. “She was very helpful. Thank her again if you see her and let her know we found the other two pieces of the tryptic in the Jzhantzee Hills just as she’d predicted.”
Martin nodded and smiled.
Central casting got him right, Kendra thought. He looks like an ancient, odd little monk for sure.
Stretching on the grass, Annie said, “OK. I’m wired on that coffee. It’s great. We get it. Clearly this is not a normal convo. The Episkopos Himself, two House Lords, the little assassin, a Second Circle dude, Monday’s personal fixer... and then yours truly. I feel like Pete Best at a Beatles reunion.”
Vannia laughed and choked on her coffee and everyone else looked blank.
“Nobody?” Vannia asked. “Kendra?”
“Nope.”
“Cultural wasteland,” she murmured.
“Can I ask about this place before we get into the meat of the meeting?” Kendra asked.
“What do you want to know, dear?” Sa Martin asked.
“I get that all the Sanctuaries are places where the Houses can mix and mingle. And I spent a bunch of time at Bardonne’s. But I don’t understand this split ziggurat deal.”
Martin looked at Ezer and Monday for permission and they both nodded.
“As you say, all Sanctuaries are places for congress between the Domains. Each has its own particular flavor and purpose. Bardonne’s, and others, are primarily social. A place to exchange favors or indulge in cross-House friendships, make wagers or settle a score.”
“OK. I get that. And the Ways that run throughout Bardonne’s keep everyone honest I guess?”
He nodded. “That’s true in the case of Bardonne’s. It is almost entirely about maintaining and providing observation and, well… oversite. Very little goes on there that requires real protection or scrutiny. More like being observed by a constant referee, if you take my meaning.”
“It’s small potatoes,” said Annie. “You don’t do serious business at BD’s. Just funnin’.”
“Where do you do serious business?” Kendra asked.
“It depends on the nature of the business,” Ezer replied. “In the case of Increase, my people tend to use the Glass Cave at Narragansett.”
“Let me guess,” Kendra ventured. “It’s more about contracts than fun.”
He nodded, either not catching her sarcasm or not responding. “Yes. A much smaller Sanctuary than the Cathedral, or even Bardonne’s. But with Ways specially crafted to create binding agreements. Very binding.”
Monday chuckled at that and even Fayton smiled. “Yes,” he added. “Release will rarely take a marque that involves breaking a pact forged in the Glass Cave.”
“They also all involve some connection to what Wallace called the ‘Beyond.’ Right? Or an ‘Otherwhere?’”
Ezer sighed and the Librarian looked at him with some irritation. “The girl hasn’t been a Reckoner for even three months. Give her a chance to learn, Warden.”
“I would simply like to get to our business,” he said.
“Are we in any hurry?” asked Fayton. He’d left his coat and tie on a chair inside and looked quite relaxed, shirt sleeves rolled up and collar unbuttoned. “I’ve cleared my calendar for a week. I assumed this might take a bit of a while. At some point I’ll have to report to Lady Percy, of course. But…” and here he gestured with and at his own cup of coffee. “I have no objection to proceeding slowly.”
This made Martin smile and offer another top-off for everyone. Except for Vannia, who’d limited herself to one cup because she said it made her “feel like one of those water-skating bugs.” Whatever that meant.
When they’d all taken a sip and paused to enjoy the flavor, Martin continued.
“Centuries before the Great Flood, during the Reckoner Wars, a place was needed where ambassadors and generals could meet to discuss terms. The original Great Hall of our Cathedral was created to serve that need. A circle of rock with a wide door on each side so that enemy generals could each station a body of troops, twenty across, ready to rush in if the other showed signs of treachery.
“During the l
ast days of those wars, several of the Earth Lords attempted to betray just such a gathering, bringing their power to bear within the Great Hall itself. Blood and Chaos countered that mighty Way. But in doing so, cracked the Hall in two, calling on the very hills to draw the halves apart. Not just by mere inches or feet… but one, two… three miles distant from each other.”
Martin had clearly told this story many times, and had all the dramatic pauses and emphases not just memorized, but embedded within him. He wove the story well. And though most in the room knew its details, all were caught up in the telling.
“The Great Flood came soon thereafter and the ruins of the Great Hall settled into these hills for a thousand years. During the Lawless Time they were home only to beasts and birds.
“Finally, the rulers of the Domains came together to establish the Law. They began to forge bonds that they believed would one day, finally, bring balance and peace.”
Around the table, several of the group—including Monday and Ezer—intoned quietly, “Seven equal, seven done.”
“But the Law required new tools to maintain and provide justice. Ways of knowing and judgement. The manner of settling disputes. Sacred places where the Law is not merely respected, but embodied. So, together, the Domains created the Ways of the Sanctuary. The knitting together of power such that no House might abuse another.
“In this place,” he gestured at the hills and sky, “the rulers of the Seven came together and crafted the Cathedral Sanctuary around the remains of the two halves of the Great Hall. Into the arch of the two great doors at either end of the Hall they placed the Ways of the Sanctuary such that any two Houses might meet in safety.
“The Cathedral was used many times during those dark centuries. The Lawless Time did not ease its grip on the Domains quietly or quickly. Again and again, leaders of various factions and Houses came to the Cathedral to negotiate and plan.
“The Sae of the Gate remember the treachery of Maemnon, Second Lord of Flux, and how his death and downfall, here in the Cathedral itself, helped sweep aside the Lawless Time forever, bringing about the balance and our peace.”
Heads nodded all around the table, quiet and solemn.
It’s the closest thing to religion I’ve seen among the Reckoners, Kendra thought.
She also realized that Monday must have been here for that. Because he killed the other Lords of Flux! He must have been in that battle, right here, what… at least three thousand years ago? She was still a little fuzzy on these multi-millennial timelines.
“So,” asked Kendra, after a few moments of respectful silence. “The two halves of the Great Hall are separated by a Sanctuary Way that somehow involves the Beyond. Do I have that right?”
“Yes,” answered Martin. “All the Sanctuary Ways require that there be a dire consequence for those who abuse the haven.”
“You break the Law in a Sanctuary, you go Beyond? But what is Beyond?”
Vannia made a “pop!” noise by whacking her palm against her mouth. “Don’t cross the streams,” she said to Kendra. “It would be… bad.”
Ezer sighed. “This discussion can get very philosophical. From a practical standpoint, if you violate Sanctuary, you simply disappear or die or explode in a puff of acrid smoke. It depends on each particular Sanctuary and the manner of your transgression. But, regardless, it’s permanent.”
Kendra nodded. “Wallace said that people have tried to find out what is Beyond. Why would you bother?”
Fayton joined in asking, “Why do people climb mountains or combine drugs in their systems in ways they don’t understand? Whether Reckoner or Mundane, we all of us sometimes feel the need to explore parts of the universe, both inside and out, that are frightening and unknown.”
“Not me,” said Vannia.
“I’m with you sister,” added Annie. “You won’t catch me in a Sanctuary for just that reason. I’m afraid I’ll somehow transgress unknowingly and get turned into a… how did the Warden put it? ‘A puff of acrid smoke?’ That doesn’t sound like a fun weekend to me.”
Kendra scowled. “But you’re in a Sanctuary right now.”
Annie shook her head. “Nope. That’s not how this one works.”
“I’m confused.”
“Honestly,” Ezer said with a sigh. “Is this necessary?”
Kendra, Vannia, McKey and Annie all said, “Yes!” at the same time, and with enough force to knock him back a bit. He retreated to his coffee, pouring a second cup to cover his impatience. Barely.
“Sa Martin? Can you explain the mechanism of the Cathedral to Kendra, please?” Monday asked.
“Certainly, Solomon. It’s not very complicated. The two halves of the Great Hall are separated by the Sanctuary Ways inscribed on the arches of their doorways. When two Houses seek to parlay, they must both send a representative to each of the two halves of the Hall. When all four are present and in accord – one from each House on each side of the wall – the Gate will open. In this way, many more representatives from the two Domains can remain in the same room for negotiations. During that time, the rest of the Cathedral is separated from the outside world by the Sanctuary Way—a wide moat of Beyond—preventing outside forces from interfering during the assembly.”
“How does that prevent treachery, though?” asked Kendra.
“Simply, my friend,” said the Episkopos of the Cathedral. “If any one of the four who convened the parlay are killed or remove their permission, the Gate instantly closes. Any caught at the juncture will be destroyed.”
“It’s kind of cool, actually,” said Vannia.
“How so?”
“Well, look at it this way. You want your guys to talk to their guys. You don’t want to do it in a regular place because you’re both afraid somebody will pull something funny. Maybe even with an army. In the Hall, you can all see each other and make agreements and cast Ways and yell and get all huffy and what not. But if things get too heated… Boom! The Gate closes and you’re three miles away from the other guy’s crew. And while you are doing the talk-talk, the whole Cathedral is swathed in Beyond Juice, so he can’t call in reinforcements from the outside.”
Kendra nodded. “I get it. When the Gate is Open, the Cathedral is closed. That is cool.”
“Thank you my dear,” said Martin graciously. “We think so, too.”
“One more question, then I’ll stop holding things up,” Kendra said. “What about when there’s not a session going on. When the Gate is closed. Couldn’t somebody attack the Cathedral while things are getting set up?”
McKey chuckled and Kendra looked up at her. Monday’s assistant was in the Seeming of Hieretha, very fierce and Celtic looking to Kendra.
“What’s funny?” she asked.
“The Sae of the Gate are a martial order, Kendra,” McKey replied. “Some of them have been sparring here for a long, long time.”
Kendra looked at Martin who was in the middle of a sip of his own coffee. He paused and smiled at her, seeming like nothing more than a friendly old man in kind of drab pajamas.
“The Way protects the Cathedral when the Gate is open,” he said simply. “When it is closed, we do.”
“Got it,” replied Kendra.
* * * * *
They spent the next two hours filling in Niles and Annie on the details of what they knew, some of their suspicions and the remaining questions about the suspected plot. Sa Martin stayed for the entire time as well, since the services of the Cathedral were being used in an official capacity; he recorded the minutes, basically. While everyone knew that Monday and McKey would be doing so with their own meticulous Ways, it was important for someone outside the House leadership to be involved.
“I bring a neutral eye and balanced hand to discussions,” Martin told Kendra.
Ezer did most of the talking, turning to Monday for confirmation or to fill in details gleaned by Sight. Vannia added color commentary, Kendra asked a few questions and McKey kept stalking along the railing, looking out into the deser
t as if she expected it to rise up and bite her.
As Ezer wound down his list of suspicions—both confirmed and unfounded—Annie sat up from the spot on the grass where she’d been listening silently and asked, “Is that it? Really? For this you drag me from my faerie demesne?”
“Oh, I like her,” said Vannia softly.
“What do you mean,” Ezer asked, “’Is that it?’?”
Annie scratched an eyebrow as if considering how best to phrase a delicate matter.
“You may be blunt,” Monday said. “We invited you here to get alternate viewpoints.”
“OK. Well. What I mean,” she said, “is that I think you’ve strung a bunch of unrelated incidents together and called them a conspiracy. I think you got pissed because you were wrong about Lady Percy and the Whites and tried to find some way to package those details into another story where you don’t look like, well, a dupe.”
Ezer didn’t seem at all perturbed by her assessment.
“I’ve considered that very possibility in depth,” he replied. “But there are too many coincidences that line up. And the…”
“Don’t go over it again,” she said, interrupting. “Please. I may not be from Sight, but I’ve got a great memory. I can recite all your theories back to you if you like. I find it easy to believe that some of the Earth Barons might be engaging in hijinks. But, c’mon. Earth is Earth. They basically do what they’ve done since the seas parted and the mountains rose. They’ll be here after every other House crumbles into dust. Hell, they’ll be the dust.”
“What of Blood’s involvement?” Ezer asked. “We are entirely certain they’ve been working with Earth. Several gangs of tags from each…”
“So what?” she interrupted again. “Blood is about as close to Earth as you can get in terms of what makes them tick. Maybe Senbi is playing some games with his Clans. Shaking things up. But if he tried to pull something major, all the Talismae outside his birth Clan would go ape-shit and pull him down.”
“She’s right,” Vannia said. “Or the tribes themselves would sit on their hands and wait to see what the Mucky-Mucks try to do without the help of the troops. That’s how Blood works, right? Even before the Law.”
