“According to only your testimony and that of a boy prone to panic attacks.” He half turned to her and she held up her hands, stopping a few steps above him. “I believe you, Ori. I do. I just don’t see the same urgency. Please, don’t bring it up. We have enough problems without your voids.” It was the request of a councilmember to a majus. She felt the distance between them, grown larger over the cycles. She wouldn’t have commanded him like that when they were traveling together. Before that, he had been her professor at the university.
Ori watched her a moment, his crest writhing. Then it settled. She knew he recognized the same space she did. “Drains,” he insisted.
Rilan rolled her eyes as he turned back. He would not give over on that stupid name. Nearly as stubborn as her father. It was a factor that drew her to him, so long ago. “Call them what you like. Let’s get one crisis dealt with before we introduce another to the Assembly, unless you really do want panic.”
They continued downward. “So this is why the Council was not letting me address the Assembly on the problem when it first happened?”
“You know it is, Ori. There was too much uproar over the failure of the space capsule without also worrying about an isolated occurrence on a moon.” The people who made decisions didn’t see it, and that meant it wasn’t an issue.
“Which has now happened on the surface of a planet. No longer isolated. If I am able to produce hard evidence of the Drains, while this Aridori rice paper flaps in the wind, what then?”
“Then we’ll see,” Rilan amended. “Let’s get through this session first and see if we have an Assembly afterward.”
Ori grunted again, and his crest flared with annoyance, but he shifted topics. “What is this about you also having an apprentice? Jealous?” He smirked at her, but his crest rose, taking the sting from his words.
“Like you wanted one to begin with,” Rilan shot back. “You only took him on because of your voids. Does he know you’ve never trained anyone?”
Ori opened and closed his mouth a few times. “I will be using my experience teaching at university. It cannot be so different.” Rilan pitied Sam if he was in store for anything like Ori’s philosophy classes. As smart as he was, Ori could befuddle an entire class of students in record time. They clomped down the next set of stairs. “You have still not explained.”
Of course her deflection wouldn’t last. “You were in the meeting yesterday. Freshta got an idea in her head and then, the Council decided I needed one,” she sighed. “Enos just came through a portal made by her brother. Some family tragedy. I haven’t gotten the details yet.”
“Then it is a way to keep you out of Council matters. Again.” Rilan bit her lip at Ori’s words. He was right, even if she didn’t like it. “The last time you were having to develop an algorithm for determining where more new maji appeared before they paid attention to your insights.”
“Cost me half a cycle,” Rilan said, letting the argument take her in despite herself. She stopped at the bottom of a landing, making Ori stop as well. “I’ve been on the Council for eleven cycles now.” Just because she had been the youngest majus raised to the Council, her ideas were ‘fresh’ and ‘experimental.’ Yet she still carried that stigma, to the older members of the Council. “Freshta only has a few cycles but they agree to her wild ideas. When are they going to start listening?” I’m not stupid, or weak, like others I could name.
Rilan thought she kept her face neutral, but something must have given her away. Even after all these cycles, he knew her too well, could see the uncertainty she kept tucked away. Ori came close, raising a hand to her face, then dropping it as she pulled back. His crest showed embarrassment, maybe even resentment. They had been apart too long.
“May I?” He raised his hand again.
Rilan felt her resolve waver for an instant. “I suppose.”
He brushed the back of one hand down her cheek, but then she stepped back, shaking her head. It was a bad idea. They hadn’t been together since shortly after she’d been elevated to the Council. She could not make policy in the Nether and traipse around the homeworlds at the same time.
“The Council is too set it in its ways,” he said. “Its members too old. You are too good for it. If you had stayed, traveled with me—”
Rilan moved up another stair. “I didn’t, and I wouldn’t alter that. I’ve changed the Assembly for the better, with my position on the Council. Have you done the same, wandering the homeworlds?” She shook her head as his mouth opened. “Come on. We’ll be late to the Assembly at this rate, and we need a few people with sense to be present.”
* * *
“Um, I think we can get into the cafeteria downstairs with Majus Cyrysi’s membership.” Sam ran his fingers through the clear chips in the bag—triangles, squares, and circles. I probably look like an ignorant bumpkin. Enos wrinkled her nose and Sam swallowed a spike of panic. What did I do wrong?
“I am not going to eat there,” she said. “The chef boils everything until it tastes like mud. At least the House of Strength has better produce.” She smoothed back short black hair, tucking it behind her ears. “The House of Healing is decent, but no culinary wonder. There is no reason to stay inside the houses, with the whole Imperium around us and that bag of Nether glass.” She jerked her head toward the pouch Sam still held. “There’s a Lobath spice and mushroom buffet close by. A lot of apprentices eat there as it has the cheapest food, but with that amount of money you could take all of them out to eat.”
Sam looked at her. I’ve been to the Spire already. How much worse can it be? He checked his pulse furtively. Too fast. When was the last time someone asked me out to eat? He felt the tears rise at the thought of home, burning the back of his nose and throat. Stop it. His hand strayed to the pocket with his watch, but he pulled it away. He wanted to make a good impression, and he was sure he wasn’t.
He swallowed. Enos was looking as if she might run after the councilor after all, so he took one of the glass or crystal pieces out of the bag, knocked it carefully against an end table. It certainly wasn’t glass. Look casual. “I…I could manage a few blocks,” he said. I won’t panic.
“My brother would love to join us, I am certain,” Enos added. Sam looked up in time to catch her eyeing his clothes again. “Afterward, maybe we can find something a little more dignified for your station as a new apprentice.”
That’s more than a few blocks. “Brother?” Is he as handsome as his sister? Aunt Martha would have approved of her clothing choices. Her silky red shirt had small silver flowers stitched into it. Sam wanted to meet more friends, but he was breathing too fast, just thinking about going out. What if she doesn’t like me? What if he doesn’t? Maybe I should stay here.
“We are both new apprentices, like you,” Enos said. “I am apprenticed to Councilor Ayama, and my brother has been working with Majus Caroom for almost a ten-day already. We can pick him up from the House of Strength on the way out.”
The House of Strength isn’t far. I can manage that. He had thought he was calm from the morning’s meditation, but that tranquility was melting away like dew in the sun. If I’m going to be here for a while, I’ll have to go out in the Imperium. I need something else to wear. He felt Enos’ eyes on him and realized he was picking bits of lint off his shirt. His clothes weren’t going to get any better if he pulled on them.
“Well?” she said. “Would you like to meet him? Get some lunch?”
Sam was staring, breathing too fast, and sweating. He realized he hadn’t answered, so he tied the pouch to a loop in his shorts, swallowed, and fingered his watch in his pocket. “After you.” I better not faint.
Enos swept through like she expected no less. He sighed, and followed her out into the hall and down the stairs. The climb down was long, but gave him time to get his mind around the concept of going out, with people. He focused inward, listening for the Symphony, letting the action calm him. Was that a few notes he heard, or the musi
c that constantly played in the house? It was hard to tell them apart.
For now, he was within the boundaries of the houses of the maji. Majus Cyrysi and he had walked across the grounds yesterday, to put in an order for his furniture. He would figure out how to go farther when he got there. The panting is just from all the steps.
When they got to the bottom, Enos pushed open the heavy wood doors, letting in the flat light of the Nether. Sam took a deep breath, feeling slightly more composed, and followed. He clenched one hand around his watch tight enough that he could feel the ticking through his palm, like a metronome for life.
The houses of the maji were arranged in a circle around the focal point of the Spire and the column, stretching up and out of sight. The column itself was the size of a stadium, the Spire leaning against it like a listing skyscraper, each house an edifice. Sam didn’t look up, though he had crossed one of the bridges above his head the day before. I can do it again. The space between the buildings was open, like pictures Sam had seen of universities. Other people—maji, he assumed—wandered the paths, most heading away, into the Imperium. It was much less crowded here than in the warren of buildings. Good. The second time somewhere was always easier for him, and the lack of crowds helped. Watch the grass. It’s different here, redder, like leaves, more than blades.
He followed behind Enos, who wandered through an archway in a row of hedges, each clipped into renditions of fanciful animals—probably real animals, on one of the homeworlds. What looked like scale armored squirrels with fan tails scurried between bushes. Enos seemed to know where she was going, and Sam followed silently, trying not to think about the Nether’s eerie telepathy getting into his head. Watch the ground. It’s not far. They aimed for the next building over from the House of Communication. Rather than a tower, this one was low and squat, with a fenced off area connected to each side of the building.
“Maji may ask us where we’re going, but apprentices are free to enter the other houses. We’re not wearing any house colors, in any case.” Sam looked up just enough to meet her eyes. Thankfully she was shorter even than Councilor Ayama. She’s looking at my clothes again. I really need to get new ones. Out in the Imperium.
Sam grabbed at the conversation. Something to take his mind away from the immense column looming to his right. “What does that mean?” He slowed as they approached the squat building’s doors—twice his height, these of heavy-looking purple wood.
“Surely you have noticed the maji wear a token of their house color and their personal color? The councilor’s dress is white and olive. Your mentor must have his colors somewhere in those robes he wears.”
“Oh.” Sam carefully looked to the emerald green banner hanging above the doors. “The House of Strength, I assume?” he asked.
“Right,” Enos said. “Come on.” If she recognized signs of his anxiety, she didn’t show it. She pushed past one of the towering bluish aliens, an Etanela, who was exiting the House. This one was nearly eight feet tall, wore flowing pants, and a light vest that left her slender arms bare. She didn’t even look at the two of them. Sam stared after her, and saw the sequence of green and rose ribbons tying her mane of hair into a bun on top of her head. Green for the House of Strength. The other color would be the majus’ personal color, something Majus Cyrysi said came after cycles of training.
Once inside, Sam’s tension lessened. He listened for the Symphony again, not that he thought he would hear much, as there was also music in this house, but like a cello sonata played on a bass, lower than in the House of Communication. This was a new place, but enclosed and finite. Since Enos was in front, he raised his watch to his ear, letting the ticking time his breathing, his heart. She didn’t look back, and he nervously checked the doors and hallways for maji who might accost him. Was there someone in charge of people entering and leaving?
Enos knocked on a wide, arched doorway, and the sound of shrill laughter cut off abruptly. Her brother? Laughing at what? Who? Enos sighed, her back to him. He straightened and put the watch away. Sam swallowed. He was as calm as he would get.
A young man, within a couple years of Sam’s age, opened the door. The similarity to his sister was immediately obvious. The same stocky frame, same coloring, the same straight black hair—his tied back—and the same intense eyes, though not as serious as his sister’s. He wore a dark green shirt, a similar sleek material to Enos’. Sam couldn’t imagine that high laugh coming from his throat. Especially since this man’s mouth was pursed.
“Sister.” His eyes flicked to Sam, who tried out a tentative smile. The eyes glanced down his clothes. Not again. “Who’s this?”
“Another apprentice.” Enos pushed through the doorway. “He belongs to a friend of my mentor. Sam, Inas. Did I hear Rey’s braying?”
“That yer did,” came a higher voice, and Sam peered around the doorframe. The brother—Inas—made a gesture with his free hand and Sam stepped the rest of the way in, clenching his hands together so they wouldn’t shake. Inas closed the door behind him. Seated in a wooden chair wide enough for three was the ugliest human Sam had ever seen, almost comically so, with a turned up nose, large pointed ears, and fine hair covering his entire face. There was something funny about his torso, too, like it was too short for the rest of his body.
Sam narrowed his eyes. No—this wasn’t a human, or Methiemum, he should say. It was one of the other species. In fact, the last one Sam had seen had been on his knees between two agitators yelling about the Aridori.
Don’t think about that. There are three people here to deal with. Enos. Inas. Rey. He wouldn’t embarrass himself by forgetting their names. So much else could go wrong. The very thought made his skin heat.
“He started a few ten-days before we did,” Enos said in explanation, gesturing to the alien. “Inas has become good friends with him.”
“Nara Reyhorer I am, yet yer can call me ‘Rey’,” the alien said. The heavy brogue washed over Sam and he wondered about the Nether’s choice of translation.
“Good to meet you, and Inas.” Sam included Enos’ brother in his glance, hoping he was doing this right. The siblings next to each other made a handsome pair. Inas gave him a hint of a nod, and one side of his mouth rose in a smile, just like his sister.
Sam addressed Rey again. “I’m new here. I don’t mean to offend, but which homeworld are you from?” Maybe he could learn more about what he had seen.
“Ah, it’s no skin off me,” Rey said, lounging back, one boot up on the chair support. “I’m a Sureri, me. Yer don’t see many of us toddlin’ about here on account o’ the family back home.”
“The Sureriaj are very family oriented,” Enos said. “Many elect not to visit the Nether, or even other homeworlds. Rey must stay here while he goes through his apprenticeship.”
“Eyah, and not even a visit to me mother and fathers until I learn how to fling open one o’ them portals.” Rey turned his gargoyle face into such a rubbery expression of despair that Sam had to laugh. He quickly covered his mouth, afraid at the noise, but Rey was chuckling too and Inas had that half smile. “So, wha’s the occasion?”
“Lunch,” Enos said. “Then new clothes.”
“Mushroom and Spice?” Inas asked.
“Of course.” Enos opened a hand toward Sam. “He’s paying.” Sam caught that cue at least, and jangled the pouch attached to his belt loop. He tried on a shaky smile. So far, so good.
“How much are yer plannin’ to eat up?” Rey asked.
Sam lost his smile, and shook his head. “Majus Cyrysi must have a lot of money.” Enos tipped her head in agreement.
“I know a good tailor,” Inas said, walking to Rey and offering him a hand up. Standing, the Sureri was of a height with Sam, but would have been dangerously thin for a Methiemum. Sam started as Inas clapped a warm hand on his shoulder, and squeezed. “We’ll teach you all you need to know about being an apprentice while we eat.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Gr
eat Assembly
-There are six founding species of the Nether. The Methiemum were one of the first, closely followed by the Kirians and Lobath. Then came the Etanela, Sathssn, and Festuour. One theory claims the Aridori were as much a founding race as the others, but any truth was lost during the destruction of the Aridori war. Today, the theory is largely considered apocryphal, though the same theory assumes the Aridori destroyed any records of their involvement.
Excerpt from “A Dissertation on the Ten Species, Book I”
Rilan settled into her chair on the crystal floor of the Great Assembly, built on the uneven bedrock of the Nether. She tried not to look down. Even after many cycles of sitting in this seat, staring into the never-ending expanse of faceted crystal made her slightly nauseous.
There were sixty-six other chairs like hers: six speakers from each species, six members of the Council of the Maji, and the Effature, who handled administration of the Nether. The giant stadium was structured like an inverted cone, with a stone wall making the floor of the Assembly into an arena viewed by the seats above. In the first several rows sat the maji, in six sections around the circumference. Ori, never one to assume a modest view of himself, took a seat on the row closest to the floor. At least he stayed in the section reserved for the House of Communication this time.
Above the maji, the lesser representatives, delegates, and senators from the ten homeworlds watched. They would pass questions down to the speaker who represented them. Similarly, the maji passed down information to the head of their house, who would then feed their information to Jhina.
Rilan fiddled with her dress while the rest of the Assembly filed in. The shoulders restricted her range of motion, but formal attire was expected of councilmembers, and she didn’t like wraps. If she had her way, she’d dress in something that let her fall into the moves of Fading Hands at a moment’s notice. Not that martial arts were particularly needed in the political forum.
The Seeds of Dissolution (Dissolution Cycle Book 1) Page 9
