The Seeds of Dissolution (Dissolution Cycle Book 1)

by William C. Tracy

  “You might as well come in,” she told the young woman, backing into her apartment’s entrance hall. Enos followed, as stiff as if she’d been stuffed.

  Rilan led the way into the receiving room, one of several rooms in the larger than average suite given to the head of a house. She yawned, and took her usual chair. Enos—her new apprentice, unless Rilan could convince the rest of the Council to reverse their stance—stood, until Rilan waved a hand and the compact woman sat in the chair across from her. Formal, that one. Enos’ eyes quickly took in her decorations, originating from all over the ten homeworlds. Rilan nodded slightly. Observant.

  “You want breakfast? I have some flatbread and yogurt left over.”

  “That would be…nice.” Enos was sitting on the edge of a stuffed chair like it was going to bite her. Rilan shook her head and got breakfast, setting it on a low table between the chairs. She had chosen the artistically styled piece as a centerpiece for the room after buying it in Karduniash on Methiem on a trip two cycles ago. The wood of the base was polished to a dull shine, carved like twisting tree trunks. Flat slabs of heartwood, in imitation of a canopy, created the surface of the table, at staggered heights.

  As she chewed, she watched Enos, who watched her back. Enos was nervous—who wouldn’t be—but Rilan thought there was more hidden in her straight-backed formality.

  Rilan cleared her throat, searching for what to say. She was more comfortable addressing the Assembly as a group than she was one young woman. “I haven’t had an apprentice before, though I have talents in several parts of the House of Healing. I have also developed new techniques in the psychological community.” Enos stiffened, but nodded, jerkily. Rilan bit back more words. They wouldn’t mean anything to someone so new to the maji. She was babbling, and changed tactics. “I will have less time than other maji because of my duties on the Council. You understand that?” Not as much time as some buffoons who sit on their backsides ‘researching’ and eating up the Council’s funds.

  “Yes, Councilor.”

  Had Rilan been this prim and irritating as an apprentice? Surely not. “What do you know of the maji?”

  Enos fidgeted. “I am afraid I know little. I have seen much of Methiem, and the other homeworlds. I have passed through many portals with my family, before—” She broke off.

  Rilan raised an eyebrow. An orphan, she had said. Her thoughts went to her father, her only living relative. It had been too long since she last saw him. “May I ask how long ago?”

  “Six ten-days.” Finally a little emotion pushed its way onto Enos’ face, forcing her mouth down. “I, I wish I had someone—something to fight back against, but it was a—an accident.”

  Rilan wanted to comfort her, but Enos’ posture still warned of getting too close. Some other type of comfort, then. “Maji may follow any profession they like, you know.” Enos’ eyes hardened and Rilan continued before she lost the young woman. “My father is a poor craftsman in Dalhni, but he provided me with the education and drive to end up here, after I first heard the Grand Symphony.” He still rationed the money she sent home, as if he had to hide it lest it undo his cycles of labor. “If you wish to make sure such an accident doesn’t happen again, you can. It’s better if your area of study ties in to your house, though one of the best doctors I know is not in the House of Healing, but in the House of Grace. He’s saved hundreds of lives.” Rilan put her flatbread down and dusted her fingers off.

  “It cannot reverse what has happened,” Enos said.

  “No, but you can help yourself,” Rilan told her. “I have studied the mental aspect of the House of Healing for many cycles. There are several ways of installing mental links I have found which—” She broke off at Enos’ horrified expression. “What?”

  “I wish to have nothing to do with the mental tricks of the House of Healing. Among my family it is considered a great insult to pry into another’s mind, in whatever capacity.”

  Rilan cocked her head, then pinched the bridge of her nose with a forefinger and thumb. By Devi’s holy feet, I get the one apprentice that won’t have anything to do with my entire field of expertise. “Well, I won’t be very good at teaching you physical healing, though you’re welcome to what I know.” She looked over her hand at the young woman. “It’s not my,” Rilan hesitated, searching for the right words, “strongest field.” That was an understatement. If Enos was interested in healing, Freshta couldn’t have made a worse choice. The Pixie knew Rilan’s skill set.

  “Let’s move on. How progressed are you in using the notes of your song?”

  Enos twiddled her thumbs for a moment. “I am able to hear the Symphony, but I have not yet been able to manipulate the notes. My brother is much better than I.”

  “Your brother?” Freshta had not mentioned the sibling was a majus. The ability to use the song rarely ran in families, and if it did, it was by generation. It was rare to have a sibling with the ability. Rilan sat forward, flatbread forgotten.

  “Yes, my twin. Did you not know? Majus Caroom of the House of Strength apprenticed him a ten-day ago.”

  More news the Council declined to tell her. Twin maji would be a powerful force, and very rare. The talk of siblings reminded her of a crazy theory from the first time she traveled the worlds of the Assembly with Ori. She would have to dig into this later.

  In any case, she approved of the choice of mentor. Caroom was a solid person, a member of the Benish. “Interesting. I’ll have to talk with Majus Caroom soon. I’m sure they can show your brother much about the Symphony of Strength.”

  Rilan rose to her feet. “Well, if you’re going to be my apprentice, we need to get you a room. Good thing Ori just went through this with Sam. That will make it easier for us.” Rilan mentally rearranged her schedule for the next several days.

  “Who is that?” Enos looked curious, and an idea began to form in Rilan’s mind. Maybe the Council hadn’t tied her up completely.

  “Ori—Majus Cyrysi—is a good friend of mine, and he accepted an apprentice yesterday. Let’s settle you in, and maybe I can introduce you. Apprentices are encouraged to work together, after all.”

  * * *

  Sam bulled through the rest of his first day in the Nether. He managed to avoid another anxiety attack, mainly because he spent most of the day on the highest floor of the House of Communication. Majus Cyrysi’s apartment was a dusty, uncared for penthouse.

  This morning, movers had delivered the low bed, a few tables, and the dresser with mirror they ordered, and shoved them into the corners of Majus Cyrysi’s spare bedroom. For breakfast, the majus had ordered him something like porridge. Sam had been too hungry to question it, though at least it was dead. The Kirian’s meal was still twitching when he started to eat it, and Sam stopped watching.

  He was supposed to learn about the maji today, and Sam was feeling surprisingly composed so far. Is the Nether getting into my head, keeping me from panicking? Possible, but he chose to believe it had rebooted his brain, in a way. Every time he felt overwhelmed, he remembered advice from his therapist. Stop, acknowledge what he was feeling, then figure out what to do. It didn’t make the anxiety go away, but it helped. There was a plan: learn how to be a majus, learn about the Drains, get back home—however long that took. Have to be friendly. Can’t afford to offend my new mentor, or any of the other aliens here. Aliens. Wow.

  Sam sat on a mint green couch across from Majus Cyrysi, in a chair, in the majus’ living room. Light came in through a side window, giving a close view of one of the cliff-like walls. The majus was wearing a different robe today, half dark blue, half electric green, with orange and yellow spirals. Sam still wore his T-shirt and shorts from the day before.

  He had learned to tell time here, after a day. The wall’s light was strongest at noon, during what people called ‘tenth lightening.’ It was just past that, and the walls were dimming. After the ten lightenings, there were ten darkenings, which took the walls down to the barest glow, the
equivalent of midnight. Sam had no idea how long the cycle was, but a lightening seemed slightly longer than an hour, compared to his watch. It wasn’t very useful to keep time any longer, but the shape and sound still comforted him.

  He closed his eyes again, fingers in his ears, trying to focus as the majus told him. Calm the mind, block out the senses, listen to the part of the Grand Symphony you can hear. He had practiced mediation on a few occasions, on advice from his therapist, but never with a clear objective—only in an attempt to calm himself.

  After a few moments, he flopped his hands into his lap and opened his eyes. “I still can’t hear anything.”

  Majus Cyrysi gave a heartfelt sigh and opened his own dark eyes. “You never will, if you are continuing to cease your meditation. You have interrupted yourself twelve times, now.”

  “Why don’t you have to do all this when you use magic—” he saw the look in the majus’ eyes “—use your song?”

  “Practice.” Majus Cyrysi sat back with certainty and closed his eyes again. Sam took a long breath in and followed suit. At least they weren’t running around the Imperium again. I think I’m getting used to it a little, though if I don’t die from falling off a balcony, the exercise will kill me.

  Sam’s eyes popped open of their own accord a few minutes later.

  “What if I can’t do this magic, since I’m from Earth? Maybe there’s something wrong with me.”

  “By the ancestor’s egg teeth, boy, you already have.” The majus’ crest looked like it had been caught in a whirlwind. He frowned at Sam, his thick eyebrows nearly merging. “It is not magic. I have been telling you this. It is a science. I am a scientist, as is Rilan—Councilor Ayama. The best in her house.”

  Sam spread his arms, thankful for the interruption. “How can this be a science? I’m listening to music I can’t hear with my ears, to change notes that only exist in my mind.”

  “This is repeatable. It is consistent.” The Kirian tapped his fingers, curved fingernails clicking. His crest ruffled continuously as he spoke. “You will learn to hear your house’s melody as a part of the Grand Symphony. When you do, you can be imposing notes of your song into the universe’s music. This will only happen when you are attuned to the Symphony. It is made of the subtle vibrations from every existing thing in the universe, so you must listen to it.” Sam sat back and glowered, and Majus Cyrysi waited a beat. “If you are to be through with questions, let us practice.” He growled the last through clenched teeth, and firmly shut his eyes, just as a knock echoed through the apartment.

  “Ancestor’s beards and bile, what now?”

  Sam got up as the majus opened his door, ready for something new.

  “If you are not having the best of reasons to interrupt me—” Majus Cyrysi broke off as Councilor Ayama, in her brilliant white dress, pushed past, ignoring him. As she came closer, Sam noticed the dress had olive-colored filigree at the shoulders and waist, just like the councilor’s colors. Aunt Martha would have liked the design.

  A short girl, about his age, with shoulder-length black hair, trailed behind her, and Sam craned his head to get a better look.

  “Ori, five members of the Sathssn delegation are seceding from the Great Assembly.” Councilor Ayama stalked into the room, her long braid swishing as she moved. “An emergency session is called at second darkening. All speakers and the full Council are required. All other maji and representatives able to come are requested.”

  “Why would the Sathssn be seceding?” Majus Cyrysi asked. “They depend on aid from the Assembly more than the other species, for disease testing on their livestock and crops.”

  “It’s the Most Traditional Servants.” The majus grunted in recognition, though it meant nothing to Sam. He eyed the new girl again. She was stocky, skin coppery, lighter than the walnut hue of Councilor Ayama. She was following the conversation with interest, looking between the two. As if she felt him looking, she spared Sam a single glance, taking him all in at once. Sam’s mind froze and his stomach tightened. Someone new. How’s my hair? Don’t throw up. What am I wearing? Oh no. Belatedly, Sam looked down at his T-shirt and shorts. Aunt Martha would have had fits about what she called “entertaining” dressed as he was. He pushed away a stab of guilt for not thinking of her more, as if he needed more anxiety right now. His heart was already pounding. He really needed to find some new clothes, and he tried to part his messy hair with one hand, but it flopped back as it always did. I probably look terrible.

  “Rilan and I are needed in the Great Assembly,” Majus Cyrysi told him. “This will likely be taking most of the day, so you will be on your own.”

  “Not completely,” the councilor added. “My new apprentice won’t be accompanying me either.” She threw an arm out to the girl behind her. “I assume you two can keep each other out of trouble while we’re in the Assembly.”

  “Yes, Councilor,” the newcomer said. She was watching him—no, his clothes—and Sam brushed hands down his shorts nervously. Going to be alone with someone new. He had to stay calm. She was just one person, not a crowd. It wasn’t like at school. She is pretty, though. That didn’t help his anxiety at all.

  “Apprentice?” Majus Cyrysi asked. The councilor rolled her eyes.

  “Secession first. Then I’ll tell you about it.” She looked over her shoulder. “I’ll be back later, Enos. Get to know Ori’s apprentice. He’s new here too.” Councilor Ayama took a firm grasp on a sleeve of Majus Cyrysi’s bright robe and marched him out of his apartment.

  Sam’s stomach gurgled, and he hoped the councilor’s apprentice hadn’t heard. It had been several ‘lightenings’ since breakfast. What about lunch? How do I order something? What if she doesn’t like what I do?

  A leather pouch plunked against the rug covering the apartment main room. Sam was relatively sure the majus couldn’t read minds. “Lessons are to be done for the day,” Majus Cyrysi’s voice floated from down the hall. “Try to get out and see the Imperium.”

  Sam picked up the bag and opened it to see clear chips, trying to ignore how the air felt too thick to breathe. Money? He showed the pouch to the councilor’s apprentice—Enos, whose eyes widened.

  “Enough for lunch?” he asked. Should I have showed it to her? Maybe she’s not hungry. What if—

  “How much do you plan to eat?” Enos said. One side of her mouth quirked up in a smile.

  * * *

  Rilan kept a grip on Ori’s robe as they moved down the corridor of the House of Communication. The faint music that permeated all the houses hung in the air, played through hidden Systems. Some maji liked it. Others, like her, thought it only interfered with hearing the real Grand Symphony.

  “I am able to be walking unaided,” Ori finally said, and Rilan released the sleeve of his obnoxiously bright robe. He patted the offending section, as if it would make the thing any more palatable. She could see his dressing habits had drifted back toward the vomit-inducing while he had been playing around the homeworlds.

  “What is the Most Traditional Servants’ reason for causing trouble this time?” Ori asked.

  “The Aridori. They say the recent increase in accounts has them worried. Yesterday there was another sighting in the grainlands. An Etanela farmer claims a hybrid between a Benish and a Pixie killed her cow and nearly strangled her husband before she drove it off.”

  Ori made a rude noise. “Such a hybrid is impossible. There is still no proof of these ghost stories.”

  “Supposedly there will be today. The entire Sathssn Cult of Form, not just the Servants, is terrified of an outsider masquerading as one of their own, perverting their ideal Form. They keep bringing up the Sathssn leading the extermination teams after the Aridori war, as if the Aridori are holding grudges against them especially, even after a thousand cycles. The Most Traditional Servants are planning to cut off all relations, retreat to their diocese on Sath Home, and close their borders.” Rilan glared at him. Just like when they used to travel together;
she was practically running and he was keeping up with little effort. Shiv take those long legs of his!

  “I am assuming these are the fundamentalists who still practice ritual euthanasia?” Ori’s lip curled and his crest laid back. The ritual had largely been abandoned by the rest of the Cult of Form, with advances in medicine by the House of Healing. Only this small group and a few others still used their ancient culling method.

  “Yes, this is them.” Rilan had spearheaded several measures to propose alternate techniques, but the Cult always resisted. If the Council had backed her proposals rather than letting the Assembly shoot them down—

  “Why not let them secede? It will only ease relations.”

  “I agree, but that’s not the point.” Ori was almost purposefully dense sometimes. “If they secede over the Aridori threat—” she ignored Ori’s snort, “—others might do the same. You’ve seen how weak and ineffectual the current Council is. My people are already edgy over the loss of their investment funds for the spaceflight you piloted. The reprimand the Council gave Mayor Nandara has several other governments primed for any chance to call foul against the Assembly, and the Effature hasn’t spoken for or against.” She had been working overtime with the speakers for Methiem, but they were nearly as stubborn as the Council.

  They walked for a few moments in silence, navigating the top of the spiral stair, before she continued. “The last thing we need is infighting between the homeworlds and the Nether. With pressure from enough species, the Great Assembly could grow shaky. If the Assembly fails, what happens to the Nether? Without it, we are little more than ten planets, floating alone.” It wasn’t her responsibility to keep them together, but someone had to do it.

  “Doubtful,” Ori countered. “We have yet to be seeing any true evidence of the Aridori.” He was taking the stairs down two at a time. Rilan huffed along behind him. “Yet I know of two Drains, unexplained phenomena which seem to bend or break natural laws. This is a physical danger which cannot be ignored.”