Dark Immolation

by Christopher Husberg

  * * *

  Astrid knew Knot wouldn’t have taken the road to Tinska. Too obvious; too many people might have seen him leave, might have wondered where the Healed One was off to. No, Knot still had Lathe’s instincts. Just as Lathe had intended last night, Knot would have struck out in an easterly direction, straight through the forest.

  The good thing about tracking someone through a wooded area was the plethora of potential signs one could leave. Finding the first sign was the difficult part. Forests were big. But all Astrid had to do was cross paths with Knot once, and she’d be on his trail.

  Fortunately, it did not take long. Astrid came across some light bruising among the vegetation, and knew where to go from there.

  For whatever reason, Knot had chosen not to cover his tracks. Astrid came across a variety of heel impressions in the leaves and dirt, broken twigs, and grass trails through clearings that clearly indicated where he was heading. Knot’s instincts were better than that. Astrid couldn’t think why he wasn’t using them.

  Then again, she had given him a significant head wound.

  “What d’you think you’re doing?”

  “You circled around,” she said, turning to face him.

  Knot shrugged, sheathing the sword that had been raised towards Astrid. “Figured you’d follow me. Didn’t seem to make sense to go to all the work of covering my tracks.”

  “You wanted me to find you,” Astrid said. The thought made her hopeful, for some ridiculous reason.

  Knot shrugged again. “I knew you’d catch me,” he said. “That ain’t the same thing.”

  Astrid rolled her eyes. Hope was such a stupid thing. “Come on, nomad. Back to the estate we go. You’re in no condition to be traipsing through the forest.”

  “Ain’t going back.”

  Astrid folded her arms. “That so? Your explanation had better be bloody impressive. Otherwise you’re coming back, whether you like it or not.”

  Knot frowned at her.

  “Don’t make me give you another concussion.”

  Knot threw up his hands in frustration. “I’m putting them all at risk!”

  Astrid said nothing. Best to let him get it out.

  “I’m a danger to them all,” Knot said. “To Jane, to Cinzia, to their family. I could snap at any moment, and who knows what Lathe will do the next time he finds his way out. Or someone worse.” Knot stepped towards Astrid. “I’m a danger to you, now, too. Lathe might remember you, next time he wakes. If he does, he won’t hesitate. And if you think it’s me and not him…”

  “I’ve already told you,” Astrid said, “killing me isn’t easy. You don’t even know how to do it.”

  “Maybe,” Knot said. “Doesn’t mean that Lathe won’t know.”

  Astrid considered that for a moment. The Nazaniin assassin Kali had known her way around killing vampires. Stood to reason that Lathe would, too, given they worked for the same organization. Astrid wasn’t aware of any local stashes of nightsbane, thank the goddess, but even so. There were other ways to kill a vampire.

  “So this is like Pranna all over again,” Astrid said. “You’re running away from your problems, and from the only people on this bloody Sfaera that care about you.”

  Knot was glaring at her, now. Good.

  “Do you honestly still think you were right, leaving Pranna the way you did? You think Winter wouldn’t have wanted to see you, after what happened on your wedding night?”

  “I got her father killed,” Knot said. “She wouldn’t have wanted to see me.”

  “She did, though. She followed you, left her home for you. What does that tell you, nomad?”

  No response this time. Idiot. Why wouldn’t he just talk to her?

  “Go ahead. Get angry. Tell me I can’t talk about Winter. I know that’s what you’re thinking. You’re running away because you don’t want to lose the people you care about.”

  “You’re right.” Knot said it quietly.

  “For someone who’s always trying to do what’s best for the people around him, you’re damn selfish. You know as well as I do that Jane and Cinzia are targets. We know what kind of shit those people flocking to them are going to go through. We know, Knot. And you can help them. So just stay, all right? Stay.”

  Knot cleared his throat. “I already said it. You’re right.”

  Astrid’s eyes widened. “You did already say it, didn’t you?” She laughed, relieved.

  “You think she would have wanted to see me, after what happened in Pranna?”

  Astrid blinked. Of course he was referring to Winter, but… what did Astrid really know about that? Only what they’d told her. “I wasn’t there, nomad. I can’t tell you what she was thinking. But if it were me, it’s what I’d have wanted.” It’s what I want now, she wanted to add. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get back. Before you have another bloody episode.”

  She started towards the Harmoth estate, but Knot did not follow. Astrid sighed, turning back to face him. “What?”

  “I said you’re right. Never said I’d go back with you.”

  Astrid felt a rush of anger course through her. “Don’t be an idiot,” she said. “What in Oblivion are you going to do?”

  “I have to learn more about the sifts inside of me,” Knot said. “I have to make them stop.”

  “And you think you can do that on your own?”

  “I’ve got to try. I know you say this is like Pranna, but… I know what’s wrong with me this time, and I’m going to face it.”

  Astrid needed to be careful. If she wasn’t her head might explode with frustration. Although it would serve Knot right for being so stupid.

  “What’re you going to do when you have an episode on your own, out there?” Astrid asked. “Jane won’t be around to help you.”

  Knot shrugged. “Don’t know,” he said. “But Jane already told me she can’t heal me forever. I’ll be just as helpless with them as I am out on my own, eventually.”

  Stubborn idiot. At least Jane would be around, at least she could try. “Where in Oblivion are you going?”

  Knot chuckled. “Can’t tell you that,” he said. “Then you might come with me. Someone needs to stay in Tinska to protect Cinzia and Jane, like you said.”

  “What if I went?” Astrid said, an idea forming. “What if I searched for whatever it is you’re looking for.”

  “I can’t make you do that—”

  “You’re not making me,” Astrid said quickly, “I’d be doing it for you. In the meantime, you could stay in Tinska. Recover a bit. Jane could heal you, should an episode happen again. It’s far safer this way.”

  Knot hesitated, which was good. He was considering it. “What if Lathe breaks through again?” he asked. “You were the only one that could stop me before.”

  “I don’t know,” Astrid said, irritated. She hadn’t thought this all the way through. “We can post guards on you at all times. Something like that. Make sure Jane is always at hand to heal you, should you need it.”

  “Jane has more important things to do than babysit me.”

  “Of course she does. I never said my plan was perfect, but it’s still a whole lot smarter than yours.”

  “How would you know what to do, when you get to where I’m going?” Knot asked.

  Astrid laughed. “What do you plan on doing?” she asked.

  Knot was silent. Astrid smiled. She had him there.

  “If you can improvise, I can, too,” she said. “And… we may not be completely out of contact while I’m gone.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “There were voidstones in the pack you picked up in Tir.” Astrid remembered seeing the small stones, roughly the size of a human thumb, polished and covered in runic marks. She recognized them easily; she had one of her own.

  “What are you talking about?” Knot asked.

  Astrid sighed. “Voidstones. You have some. They’re a method of communicating through the Void, for those who can access it. You can
access it, Knot. You’re a psimancer.”

  “Not anymore. We’ve been over this.”

  “Ask Lathe,” Astrid said. “He used telesis against me. You used telesis against me, while you were Lathe.”

  “He could access his tendra?”

  “Sure could. They weren’t full strength, though. Don’t get your hopes up, about taking over the world with your tendra, because that won’t be happening anytime soon. But he could use them. He could access the Void. That much was clear. If you imprint yourself on one of your voidstones, you can use it to communicate with me through the Void. I can report to you what I find. You can tell me what you think I should do. It’s a far better idea than whatever you’ve dreamed up.”

  “You said these stones allow two people with access to the Void to communicate. You, then, have access to the Void?”

  “Not the way a psimancer does, not that kind of willful connection. Mine is more… subconscious. Some would say I’m a creature of the Void.”

  After a moment Knot took a deep breath. “What if I can’t imprint myself on one of these… stones…?”

  “I’ll help you. We’ll go back together, now, and I’ll make sure it happens. Then I’ll leave. I’ll go wherever you want me to go, Knot.” Astrid cocked her head to the side. “By the way… where do you want me to go?”

  “Turandel. It’s a small city south of here, on the coast.”

  Astrid almost choked on her own spit. Bloody Turandel? Of all places in all the bloody Sfaera, it has to be there?

  “Sounds delightful,” she said, smiling. “Why Turandel?”

  “It’s where Elessa is from.”

  Astrid blinked. “And?” What did Elessa have to do with anything?

  “I wasn’t entirely honest before. I do remember some of that last episode. I know that if I want to learn more about the sifts, about myself, then there are answers in Turandel. You go there, and I’ll tell you what to look for, starting with House Storonam. Elessa’s family.”

  Storonam. She hadn’t known that was Elessa’s family. Astrid had not heard that name in many years.

  Knot sighed. “You’re sure you want to do this? It could be dangerous.”

  “It’s me, nomad. You can find danger in my afternoon shit.”

  Knot raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know your kind did that.” Astrid laughed.

  * * *

  The next day, Astrid found herself almost in that exact same spot in the forest. This time, however, she was alone. Knot had agreed to her plan; she would travel to Turandel to investigate House Storonam, while Knot stayed in Tinska where he could rest, heal, and protect Cinzia and Jane should any danger befall them.

  Astrid felt a faint tugging on her mind, both a physical and a mental sensation, as if there were something attached to her brain, gently pulling at it. Astrid sighed, reaching into one of the sealed pockets of her cloak and pulling the voidstone out. Physical contact with the stone was necessary to make the connection.

  Astrid placed her thumb on the dark, crimson-colored rune on the stone, and allowed her mind to enter the Void.

  “What do you want now?” she asked. Why Knot could possibly want to voke her three times in one morning was beyond her. Likely he was just excited that it was possible at all—or that he could access his tendra in the first place.

  There was a pause at the other end, which was strange. There was no reason Knot would pause. After all, he—

  This wasn’t Knot.

  “Hello, child.”

  Astrid swallowed, hard. “Hello, Mother.”

  Again, silence at the other end. The Black Matron would want an explanation of Astrid’s impertinence when she answered the voke signal. Well, Astrid wouldn’t give it to her. Not unless she expressly asked for it, anyway.

  “It has been some time since your last contact,” the Black Matron said after a few moments. Astrid did not know the Black Matron’s real name; she had never even seen the woman. She only knew she must obey her.

  “I know,” Astrid said. She waited as long as she could between contacts with the Black Matron. The last time had been about a week before they arrived in Tinska. She wanted to relay as little information as possible. “I apologize,” Astrid said. “There is not much to report.”

  “You are still traveling?”

  Astrid cleared her throat. “No,” she said. “No, we are near Tinska. We’ve met with the Oden family, and have chosen to stay at their estate.”

  “When did you arrive?”

  Shit. Astrid could lie, say they arrived yesterday. But the Black Matron might already have contacts in the area; she might already know. It was impossible to read this woman. “A few days ago,” Astrid said. Nine days, to be exact. “I know I should have contacted you earlier, but… but things have been a bit strange, here.”

  “Explain, child.”

  Astrid sighed. She hated the Black Matron, she hated the Denomination, she hated her obligation towards them both. But she had no way out of it. And she needed to give them something.

  “People have begun to gather here,” Astrid said. “Humans and tiellans.”

  “Gathered for what, exactly?”

  “I’m not sure,” Astrid lied, “but I think they’re here for Jane. They think she is some kind of… prophetess.”

  There was a pause before the Black Matron spoke again. “And what does Miss Oden do with these followers?”

  “They’re calling themselves Odenites. And I don’t think Jane knows what to do with them.” Another lie. But she had to have something to tell her next time, especially if she hadn’t yet returned to Tinska.

  “How many have gathered?”

  “Over one hundred,” Astrid said. That, at least, was accurate. Or it had been, yesterday morning. People were flowing in almost every day, now.

  “Could be worse, then. You will keep me informed on this topic, my child.”

  “Of course, Mother.”

  There was another pause. Astrid continued walking as they spoke; there was no need to stop when communicating this way. Some psimancers, she knew—acumens, like Kali—could communicate in more elaborate ways. They could see one another, even see through another’s eyes a thousand miles away. Things were much simpler for Astrid. She could hear the person’s voice from the other end; she could speak, and be heard. That was about it.

  Astrid knew the Black Matron was waiting for her to mention Knot—or Lathe, as the Black Matron called him. That was her duty, after all, her main reason for being here in the first place.

  “What of Lathe?”

  “You mean Knot,” Astrid said. It was true, after all. Lathe as the Black Matron knew him had ceased to exist.

  “Yes, so you keep telling me,” the Black Matron muttered. “Have you discovered what sift is prominent yet? There must be one in charge of Lathe’s body.”

  “No,” Astrid said, feeling frustrated. The Black Matron had asked this question before. Astrid had tried to explain it to her. “He is none of these sifts… and all of them. As if a new person were created in Roden. He has his own personality, his own way of doing things. He remembers bits and pieces about those who make up his conglomerate sift, but nothing specific.”

  “Look into this further, child. Discover who this Knot really is. He says he has no memory of himself, of his life, up until a year ago?”

  “A little more than a year, yes,” Astrid said.

  “Very well, child. Continue as you are. I’d appreciate your contacting me next time, though. Reaching out to you grows tedious. You’re the one working for your own redemption, are you not?”

  “Yes, Mother,” Astrid said.

  “Very well then. Until next time. Canta guide you.”

  Astrid let out a long breath. She hated speaking with that woman. She hated it even more since she had actually come to care for Knot. The Black Matron had informed her that she must follow this man—the man she had thought was Lathe Tallon—and learn about him. Easiest way to do that had been to join the man on hi
s journey. The Black Matron hadn’t been pleased, but even she had to admit the plan had worked out well. Perhaps too well.

  Astrid knew one thing. As much as she liked Knot, there was something more important. Something that haunted Astrid, and wouldn’t stop haunting her until her debt was paid, and she had found redemption.

  18

  CINZIA WATCHED AS JANE threw a pebble into the ocean. It sailed forward, skipping eight or nine times until it finally sank into the waves. The ocean was calm today, the swells gentle and rolling.

  It was mid-morning, and the sky was gray, the sun only a bright patch in the east. The beach was wet; it had rained during the night. It was not cold, thank the Goddess, but neither was it warm. Cinzia had a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, but still shivered. She had not exactly dressed for this occasion, through no fault of her own; Jane had not told her where they would be going. “Out for a walk,” was all she had said. Jane’s pretentious vagueness was starting to grate on Cinzia. She didn’t know how much more of it she could take.

  “When did you learn to do that?” Cinzia asked. She and Jane used to try to skip stones when they were children. The rocks they threw always sank without a single bounce.

  “I don’t know,” Jane said beside her. “A few years ago. Father taught me.”

  Cinzia felt a sudden, unexpected weight of jealousy settle within her chest. She had made the choice to go to the seminary. Jealousy shouldn’t be a feeling she concerned herself with. And yet, the thought of Jane spending the past eight years with their father and mother, with their siblings, made Cinzia jealous.

  “Cinzia, I’d like you to be my first disciple.”

  Cinzia looked back to the ocean. Somehow she had known this was coming. It was the next logical step in reviving Canta’s religion.

  “Is that why you asked me out here?” Cinzia asked, surprised at her own calm.

  “You have to see the divine coincidence. You’re named after one of Canta’s Disciples. You were a priestess in the Cantic Denomination. Who better to be the first disciple?”

  “I still am a priestess,” Cinzia corrected her.

  It was technically true; she had not yet received papers of excommunication. Of course, she would have been difficult to find in Roden. Now that the Denomination likely knew exactly where they were, Cinzia expected those papers any day.