Dark Immolation

by Christopher Husberg

  “Yes,” Cymbre said. “If you please.”

  “Why?” Knot asked. “What are you going to do with that information?”

  “I don’t think that’s your concern,” Wyle said, leaning forward.

  Cymbre put a hand on Wyle’s arm. “We know so very little of psimancy,” she said, slowly. “It is a science, an art of which we are just scratching the surface. Every bit of knowledge helps.”

  Knot frowned. He was suddenly unsure of this entire exchange. What information were they really able to give him? Could he trust it? And what would they do with whatever Knot told them about what had happened in Roden?

  At the edge of his vision, Knot saw the door to the house open. A small form slipped out and walked towards them. Astrid.

  “What is it?” Jendry turned, following Knot’s gaze. “Ah, the vampire.”

  “We need to continue this conversation later,” Knot said. He moved towards Astrid, but felt a hand on his shoulder. Jendry. The grip was far stronger than Knot would have expected.

  “What about your end of the deal,” he said, his voice devoid of his earlier levity. “You owe us.”

  “You’ll get what you’re due,” Knot said. “But you interrupted something of a crisis we have on our hands. You’ll have to wait.”

  “But your end of the—”

  “I’ll make good on it,” Knot said, “when you make good on yours. Right now I got bigger issues.” Between the assassination attempts, the Kamite order, and training a new guard force, Knot had his hands full. He tore out of Jendry’s grasp, and walked towards Astrid.

  She smirked as he approached. “I knew you wouldn’t like them.” She nodded at the cotir behind Knot. “Looks like they may not be willing to take no for an answer.”

  Knot turned to see the cotir coming toward him, Cymbre leading the other two.

  “Look,” Knot said, “I’ll cooperate, I just have to deal with some things first.”

  “We believe we can help you,” Cymbre said.

  “I know you do, but I have other things to attend to before—”

  Cymbre shook her head. “You misunderstand. We believe we can help you with your current… issues.”

  Knot stared at the woman as the words sank in. “I… how do you know about our current issues?” he asked.

  Wyle waved his hand, grinning. “Wasn’t too hard to glean from that ex-priestess’s mind. It was all she was thinking about. Even if I can’t read you, I can—”

  Before he knew what he was doing—with the instinct that’d been with him since the day he woke in Pranna, the instinct that made him so dangerous—Knot lunged forward, grabbing Wyle by the throat.

  “You don’t delve my friends,” Knot gritted. “You don’t even touch them with your powers. That clear?”

  He heard Astrid’s voice behind him. “Um, Knot?”

  “What?” Knot growled, glaring at Wyle. Wyle’s eyes were wide, with surprise, mostly, but yes, Knot saw fear there, too. That was good.

  “I don’t think you’re in the best position to make threats at the moment.”

  Knot turned his head, but stopped the moment he felt a cold blade at the base of his chin. Jendry had a dagger at Knot’s throat.

  “That knife’s the least of your problems. I wouldn’t look up if I were you.”

  Knot looked up, taking care not to nick his throat against Jendry’s dagger. Above him was a huge stone, three or four times the size of his head, floating in midair.

  Knot cursed. He let Wyle go, who gasped and collapsed to his knees.

  Slowly Jendry withdrew his dagger, but the boulder remained, levitating above Knot.

  Knot turned, being sure to do so slowly. He’d grown attached to his skull; getting it crushed was not something that particularly appealed to him.

  “Get that damn rock away from me.”

  Cymbre stared at him. “Very well,” she said after a few moments. There was a whoosh above Knot, and then a thud in the distance.

  “We’re willing to help you, but you need to treat us with respect. No more threats,” Cymbre said.

  “I’ll only make that promise if you make a similar one. No using psimancy on any of my friends.”

  “Fair enough,” Cymbre said. She looked at Jendry, who nodded, and then at Wyle, who was slowly climbing to his feet.

  “Sure, whatever,” Wyle said, coughing as he waved off Jendry’s offer of help.

  Knot blinked. He had not expected them to agree so easily. Of course, agreeing to it was one thing; whether they would stick to it was another entirely.

  “Now,” Cymbre said, “let’s talk about these problems of yours.”

  PART IV

  THE ONLY ORDER IS CHAOS

  37

  Harmoth estate

  CINZIA WALKED UP THE stairs to one of the large first-floor rooms where Knot, Arven, and the Nazaniin cotir had set up a temporary base of operations. A wide window gave them clear view of the grounds to the front of the building and most of the people who had settled there.

  “What have you found?” Cinzia asked.

  “Nothing,” Knot grumbled. He was standing at the window, looking out over the grounds. Arven sat at a desk, poring over stacks of paper, and the three members of the cotir lounged on chairs, chatting quietly.

  “Nothing at all?” Cinzia didn’t bother to mask her disappointment. “Arven, what progress have you made?”

  Arven looked up, and a wide grin spread across her face. “Disciple Cinzia!” she exclaimed. “I did not see you enter.” She stood, bowing. “I apologize for my bad manners.”

  Cinzia motioned for the girl to sit back down. “The work you’re doing now is far more important than silly courtesies. What are you doing right now?”

  Arven sat back at the desk. “A few days ago, as you asked, I took a census of the Odenites. I asked everyone’s name, where they were from, what brought them here. Of course, I didn’t do it alone, that would be ridiculous, it would have taken me weeks—”

  “I know about the census,” Cinzia interrupted, trying to keep hold of her patience. “I would like you to tell me what you’re doing now.”

  “Yes, yes, of course. What I’m doing now. Well, I’m looking through the census documents trying to find information that matches the descriptors Knot has asked me to find.”

  “And you’ve had no luck?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say I’ve had no luck; I have not cut myself on this paper yet, and I haven’t gotten a stomachache, either. So I suppose I’m lucky in that sense. But as far as finding any matches, then I would agree that there has been very little luck. In that area.”

  Cinzia nodded, not sure how to respond. She turned to Knot. “What are these ‘descriptors’ you asked her to find?” And, stepping closer to him, she said much more quietly, “Is she organized enough to do this kind of a search?”

  “Attributes that would be most common to the type of people we are looking for,” Knot said. And, sotto voce, “She’s more organized than any three people I can think of combined. Easily distracted, but she has a good system. The issue is that there are almost four hundred names to sort through, backgrounds to check, and so forth.”

  “I see.” Cinzia looked back at Arven, already poring over more documents. Then she nodded to the cotir. “What of them? What are they doing?”

  “Wyle’s the one that can really help at the moment,” Knot said. “He’s the acumen, and he’s been delving into people’s minds. He has a good vantage point from here, but it isn’t easy to delve so many people, especially when there is no accurate way to keep track of who he has and has not delved without letting them know explicitly what is goin’ on. His tendra can only reach so far, too.”

  “Delve?” Cinzia asked. It was not a word she was familiar with.

  “Wyle is an acumen,” Knot said. “He uses psimancy to connect with the minds of others.”

  “That much I remember,” Cinzia said. Knot had explained what each of the three branches of psimancy did, rou
ghly—people who could manipulate physical objects, people who could manipulate the minds of others, and people who could… the third one had not been as clear to Cinzia. Interpret prophecies? Make prophecies? Predict the actions of others? It did not seem to fit with the other two, although the concept had intrigued her. She was a seer, according to Jane. Did that mean she had some sliver of this psimantic power? Or was what she did, translating the Codex, words no human on the Sfaera could understand, something different?

  “Just tell me what delving means.”

  “He’s discerning the thoughts of the Odenites, listening for anything suspicious.”

  “He can do that? With anyone?”

  “Essentially, yes. But he has to decipher a person’s sift first, and that’s not always easy. It is a lengthy process. Wyle is moderately powerful, he can discern three or four at a time, but he can’t do so indefinitely. He is already tiring. It is difficult when he is so far away from them; tendra have physical limits.”

  “Could he discern my thoughts? Or Jane’s?”

  “He could, but I’ve ordered him not to.”

  “And he’ll obey your orders?”

  Knot hesitated. “Wouldn’t be a bad idea to guard your thoughts around him.”

  Guard my thoughts? Cinzia wondered. How in the world am I supposed to do that?

  Probably not by talking to yourself.

  Cinzia shivered. The thought of Wyle having free access to her mind made her feel queasy.

  “I’m not sure this is the right way to go about our investigation,” Cinzia said quietly. “We are invading people’s privacy.”

  Knot’s face remained expressionless. “We are,” he said. “You need to ask yourself whether that’s something you’re willing to do to protect your sister, and, ultimately, everyone here.”

  “I have a feeling Jane would disagree with it,” Cinzia said.

  “She asked you to lead the investigation,” Knot responded. “You can confer with her, or you can make your own decision.”

  “You think I should lie to my sister?”

  “Don’t think you should lie. Just ain’t sure you need to tell her exactly what it is we’re doing.”

  “Do you think it is worth it?”

  “I know what I saw in Izet,” Knot said, grimly. “I know what we’re up against. I know, somehow, that you and Jane are some of the only people that give us hope against what’s coming. I think protecting you at all costs is necessary.”

  Cinzia pursed her lips. She would need to think on this. Was this something she was really willing to do? Condone the violation of the privacy of hundreds of people?

  You could trust in Canta. That’s what Jane would do.

  But what of the tools that Canta provided Cinzia? Where was she to draw the line? Cinzia needed to take action to translate the Codex; she couldn’t just sit back and “trust in Canta” that it would get translated on its own. Where was the line between what she could do, and what she couldn’t? Could Wyle be another instrument of Canta?

  Cinzia shook her head in frustration. “He’s just choosing people randomly to decipher? That’s how he’s going about this?”

  Knot shrugged. “We don’t have much else to go on at the moment, not unless Arven finds something.”

  “There’s got to be a better way.” Then, Cinzia had an idea. “Arven,” she said.

  Arven looked up, smiling at her. “Yes, Disciple Cinzia?”

  “What was that idea you brought to me the other day? Something about meetings in the house?”

  “Yes, Disciple Cinzia, of course. I brought them up while we were at the practice yard—”

  “I know when you brought them up, Arven. Explain them again.”

  “Yes, of course, Disciple Cinzia. I proposed that we invite the followers to come into the house, to get to know the Prophetess and her disciples. Also, it would be an opportunity for me to get more accurate records of everyone.”

  Cinzia looked to Knot. “And could it also be an opportunity for our acumen to delve minds at closer quarters, with more organization? Root out those who mean us harm—if that’s what we decide to do, of course,” she added quickly.

  Knot’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment Cinzia thought he might object. “That might actually work,” he said instead. “It would certainly be more efficient.”

  Cinzia nodded. “It certainly would be.”

  “Is everything all right?”

  Cinzia and Knot turned to see Cymbre walking towards them. The woman’s eyes reminded her of Knot’s when she had first met him. Strange that when Cinzia looked into Knot’s eyes now, that deadness was gone. She couldn’t tell whether it was something in Knot that had changed, or something in herself—perhaps both.

  “Hello, Cymbre,” Cinzia said. “Tell Wyle to stop… delving. We’re taking a new approach.”

  Cymbre raised an eyebrow. “You don’t wish for our help?”

  “We think we could use you in a far more efficient way. Knot and I are going to organize meetings at the house. A series of inductions, as it were. The Odenites will stay for a half-hour or so, Jane will address them, and they will meet us in person.”

  “And you want Wyle to delve the people in groups,” Cymbre said, nodding. “It’s a good plan. Better than what we’re doing now.” Cinzia wasn’t sure, but she thought she noticed the woman’s eyes flicker towards Knot.

  “I agree. Please, tell Wyle to save his energy. I’m going to speak with Jane and Arven, and get this organized. How long are you and your friends allowed to stay?”

  “We’re here to serve you, and get what we came for.” This time, her glance at Knot was unmistakable. Cinzia did not think she meant it to be missed, either. “How long it takes is irrelevant.”

  Cinzia nodded. “Very well. If the sessions had thirty or forty people in them, how many do you think Wyle could do in a day?”

  Cymbre considered that for a moment. “It is difficult to say. Five or six, but that’s an arbitrary number. I’ll speak with Wyle.”

  “Do it, and tell Knot if you come up with something. With any luck, we can begin these sessions tomorrow.”

  “Luck?” Cymbre asked, raising an eyebrow. “I did not think that would be a word I would hear around this crowd.”

  Cinzia snorted. “Because we are religious?”

  Cymbre shrugged, but when Cinzia did not respond—she wanted to hear what this woman really meant—she sighed and said, “Yes, I suppose that’s what I meant.”

  “Luck and faith are not mutually exclusive,” Cinzia said. “Faith is a belief in something unknown, or something yet to come. Faith is active and it is part of our being. You’ve faith that if you take a step, your foot will support your weight, just as we all have faith that the sun will rise, just as I have faith that there is a loving Goddess out there who wants to take care of us, and has a work for us to do. Luck… luck is passive. While Canta has all power, She chooses not to control all things. Thus the actions of others, or the weather, may not go in my favor. That is luck. Sometimes Canta steps in to influence things, sometimes She chooses not to.”

  That, perhaps, was her answer, Cinzia realized. Cinzia needed to have faith. But if luck placed an instrument such as Wyle in her hands, one that would help her protect her sister, protect this movement, why would she not take it?

  “But why would She ever choose not to do so? If She loves us, as you claim, and if She has all power, why not make everything go according to Her will?” Cymbre asked.

  “That is getting into another discussion entirely,” Cinzia said. “Canta’s love for us is perfect, and She is therefore willing to let us make our own choices; She wants us to be and do what we want. She encourages us, guides us, but she does not constrain us.” Cinzia smiled. “But you did not come here for a sermon on Canta’s attributes. I apologize.”

  Cymbre did not seem to mind the lecture. “Is that what the Denomination teaches about Canta? Or is that what your sister teaches?”

  Cinzia cocked her head
. “It is what I believe,” she said. And she meant it. That fact brought more pleasure to her than she had felt in a long time.

  “Well then,” Cymbre said, looking from Knot to Cinzia. “I’ll inform Wyle of our new plan. We will stay in touch about the logistics, I suppose?”

  “Yes, we will let you know.”

  “Very good. Thank you, Cinzia. You are… you are an elegant woman, and someone I’m happy to work with.”

  Cinzia blinked in surprise. “Thank you,” she said, getting a hold of herself. “Not only for the compliment, but for your help. It is appreciated. As you can see, we are in great need.”

  Cymbre inclined her head, just slightly, and then turned to walk back to her cotir.

  “Was that…?”

  “Strange?”

  Cinzia nodded.

  Knot snorted. “Strangest thing I’ve seen all day. And I see a lot of strange shit.” Knot cleared his throat. “Pardon my language.”

  Cinzia shrugged. “Forget it,” she said. “I’m going to talk to Jane. Can you ask Arven to organize the Odenites into groups that would make some semblance of sense?”

  “I’ll see what she can do,” Knot said.

  “Thank you,” Cinzia said, and was about to go find Jane when she paused and placed her hand on Knot’s arm. “I mean it,” she said, looking into his eyes. “Thank you for your help. We couldn’t do this without you.”

  Knot cleared his throat. “Just doing my duty.”

  You’re doing far more than that and you know it, Cinzia thought.

  38

  The Void

  “ACUMENCY IS DEPENDENT UPON deciphering your subject’s sift. Once you figure that out, you can learn to rearrange things.”

  Kali sat cross-legged, facing Winter in the Void, delighting in the feel of a physical body once more. This was the third time Winter had come to learn more about acumency, and things were… progressing. But, unfortunately, Kali had gotten no closer to figuring out what it was about Winter that made her physical body appear when the tiellan was around, and certainly no closer to figuring out if she could use it to get out of the Void.