The Seeds of Dissolution (Dissolution Cycle Book 1)

by William C. Tracy

  Hand Dancer concluded, hir deft fingers implying they would all be blameless.

  “Any other objections?” Rilan looked around the room. Only Inas looked worried, but as she watched him, his face went carefully blank.

  “Then the Aridori is our next source of information,” Rilan said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The Weight of Repeating History

  -There are prisons in the Nether, built to hold common criminals. What of when our illustrious maji do wrong? Who then shall guard our most powerful wrongdoers and keep them from repeating their offences?

  Plea from Roftun Befurtyon, Sureriaj Speaker to the Great Assembly, 382 A.A.W.

  Sam came out of the portal on Enos’ heels, and kept his head down as he blocked the alley’s exit. Don’t look up. I’ve been here before. It seemed ages ago that Majus Cyrysi had pulled him through from Earth to this exact location. The rotting musk of the dead-end alley was almost comforting. Now, the sounds of the Imperium were quiet, the walls dark. It was late at night, or very early morning. If he didn’t look around, he could pretend this was like the tunnels they just came from.

  “Sam?” Enos sounded scared.

  He didn’t want to meet her eyes, look at her dark hair curling over her ears. “I can’t let you free,” he said. “Not knowing what you are.” Have to take her to Councilor Ayama, and Majus Cyrysi. Can I face Inas?

  He looked up slowly, though he didn’t want to. Enos was frowning. “I thought you, of all people, would understand,” she said, and the words were a punch in his stomach. He curled around them. “You have not heard a lifetime of made-up stories about my people. You only have Inas and me to judge by. What of the connection between the three of us?”

  Sam wanted to reach out to her. Take her into my arms; tell her everything is alright and I understand her. Tell her we and Inas can still be together.

  “Do we seem like monsters to you?”

  He curled in tighter, arms crossed, head down. Were we ever together? Were they both pretending at this relationship?

  “Well, we are not. You have no right to keep me here.” Enos brushed past him.

  Sam almost let her through. Then at the last moment the Symphony of Communication flooded his mind. It came easily now, air currents whispering the weather, lullabies of sleepy nighttime speech. The exit to the alley was a doorway, and another place of communication. He stuffed his notes into the holes in legato passages, making them overcrowded with music, and the air thickened to a block of jelly, glowing yellow. Sounds from the marketplace outside cut off. Enos halted and placed a hand against the wall of air. It resisted her movement. She turned and glared up at him.

  “You aren’t monsters,” Sam told her. I have to know. “But those stories came from somewhere. There’s a reason mobs are searching for Aridori. Can you promise your family didn’t do anything I’ve heard about? Were the Aridori not the cause for the Aridori war?”

  Enos hesitated, her chin up, hands clasped by her sides. The panic started to well up in Sam at last. It was comfortable. Familiar. He dug a hand in his pocket for his watch.

  “A faction of the Aridori were responsible for the war,” Enos said. “My family knows—knew—that much. We were not responsible. Those of the Aridori who did not agree with the violence fled. All the others were wiped out.”

  She didn’t do it. Inas didn’t do it. Can I trust what she says? “That was a long time ago,” Sam said. “What about all the rumors? Did the Aridori suddenly become peaceful after the war?”

  “You assume I was warlike at some point.”

  “But everyone says—” Sam looked up again, despite himself. Enos’ face was tight, closed off. He understood why, understood that he was attacking her, but he had to know.

  “Are all Methiemum greedy traders? Are all Etanela artists or all Lobath dull and lazy?”

  Sam swallowed. Everything he knew about Enos told him she was a good person. The stories he heard of the Aridori told him they betrayed those closest to them. Both couldn’t exist together. Which do I believe—my eyes, or knowledge a thousand cycles old?

  “Why do I have to prove myself to you?” Enos said, her volume rising. “Can you not trust me by what you know of me?”

  Tension swelled in Sam’s chest like a rising tide. His breathing was faster than his watch. Too fast, and his knees buckled.

  “Sam—you do not get to hide from this.” Enos’ voice was closer. “You cannot blame your prejudice on your anxiety. Talk to me. Say something.”

  What can I say? “I…need more information.” It was all he could come up with. What would prove Enos and Inas are good people? He croaked out a laugh. He knew how bad that sounded.

  “Why do you look like me?” He wasn’t aware of the question before it escaped his mouth. It was, if not neutral, then at least not as inflammatory.

  He heard Enos sit, close, but out of arm’s reach. She made a noise at the condition of the alley. “My family has always looked like Methiemum. Inas and I were born as Methiemum. My father, mother, aunts and uncles, and all their ancestors have looked like Methiemum for so long they did not remember how they used to appear.”

  Two instances. The thought intruded into Sam’s mind. He kept his head down, speaking into his arms. It helped if he didn’t have to think about where he looked. “You and Inas are linked?” The same half smile, his attraction to both of them—sometimes it felt like they were two halves of the same person.

  “Aridori are born as twins,” Enos said. “Two chances to choose what to be. Two paths in life.”

  “Are you telepathic?” Can she call to Inas for help? The prospect of Enos doing anything to hurt him was farfetched. Isn’t it?

  Enos snorted a laugh. “I wish we were. I could have told him where we were and avoided all this.” Sam finally looked up, his breathing slowing. “When we are very close, there is a…feeling from our other half. Otherwise, no.” She shook her head.

  “All of you are like that?” When had anyone last interviewed an Aridori to prove the validity of the old stories?

  Enos nodded. “My father’s other chose to be male as well, but never settled with anyone. My mother’s other chose to be female when young, but male when he decided to bring a Methiemum man along with our merchant group.”

  “Did he know? The other man?”

  Enos shook her head. “You are the first, as far as I know.”

  “Are there others?” Sam envisioned Aridori spread through the ten homeworlds. Just like when the war started.

  “We reproduce slowly,” Enos said. “Inas and I are the last ones born. All our family lived and traveled in the convoy that was destroyed.” She blinked rapidly, several times. “My parents never spoke of others. As far as I know, we are the last of our species.”

  Sam watched her for a long moment. “I don’t want to go back to the others yet.” She’s lied to me since we met. “I need to rest for a while. Then I’ll decide what to do.”

  “You assume you have a right to judge me.” The heat was back in her voice.

  “I don’t, but I’m too tired and scared to just let you go. I know you’re a good person, Enos. Give me time.” Sam deliberately closed his eyes. Show me, one more time.

  “At least let us get out of this stinking alley,” Enos said. Sam opened his eyes. “Let me go—we’ll find a place to sleep out in the market, if you don’t want to go back.”

  “I…yes. That’ll be better,” Sam said. I’ve been in the market. I can handle sleeping out there. “I’m sorry. I know you and Inas.” He took back his notes blocking off the alley and the wall of air thinned as the yellow dissipated.

  They found a sheltered area under an awning where a merchant would sell goods during the day, and settled down for the night.

  As he heard Enos’ breathing slow, Sam looked up at the starless sky above, feeling his heart race. I know this place. The
Symphony of Communication played, in the back of his head. The shape of a massive column rose into the darkness, and far above, a night animal flitted away from the surface.

  I’ve made a portal for the second time. I could find home. The knowledge was slipping away, like someone else had poured the information into him, then sifted it out. Change this Symphony to match that one. How do I tie them together?

  He imagined a blank crater where his house had been, like a giant melon ball had scooped through the yard. He tried to push his notes into the space between those measures and the ones for the alley. The music resisted, he pushed more notes into the space, and chords made a discord in his mind. His notes rushed back as he gasped with the shock. No good.

  * * *

  Sam woke to find Enos watching him. He shifted, turned his neck, and winced at a sharp pain. Sitting against a hard wooden stall and falling asleep was not my best idea. It was morning, to judge by the light from the walls, and the marketplace was filling. A Lobath trailing a cart with fruit behind him waved them away from their spot.

  They walked through the market together, Sam noting the stalls he had seen before.

  “Well?” Enos said after a while. “Have you had enough time?”

  Sam made a show of checking all his fingers and wiggling his toes in his shoes. “I seem to still be alive,” he said. They stared at each other. “That was a joke.”

  “We could have alerted the others of the Sathssn’s connection to the Drains last night,” Enos said. “Instead, we slept like homeless people because you were unsure.”

  Sam cleared his throat. “You lied to me, from the moment we met. Lied while I depended on you and Inas to help me cope with this place.” He threw a hand out, then sighed. He wasn’t angry or frightened of Enos. She was his friend, and she deserved that respect. “I’m sorry. I’ve just heard so much about the Aridori. So many people are frightened of them. But you’re not like that.” He took in a long breath. “Let’s tell the others about the Sathssn.”

  Enos paused at the archway that marked the end of the market. “Will you keep my secret?”

  Sam nodded. “The information we have on the Drains and the Sathssn is more important than a war a thousand cycles past.” He reached for her hand, and she didn’t pull away, though she watched him. “You and Inas mean a lot to me. I, I had to let what you told me sink in and fight off what everyone else has told me. I’m sorry I take so long to process things.”

  Enos looked at him for a long time, head tilted just a little, eyes moving over his face. Then she stepped in and kissed him lightly on the lips. Sam responded late, unprepared, but she was already stepping away, her gaze avoiding him. “You mean a lot to me and Inas too. I can feel that much from him, when we are all close together.”

  Sam pulled his courage from where it sat, deep down. “Then this between us isn’t weird? That I can’t pick between the two of you?”

  Enos shrugged. “Two iterations, each free to choose. We both chose you.”

  The walk through the Imperium to the Spire was much different from the first time he had done it, drugged with Councilor Ayama’s magic. This time he had Enos to hold on to, and the Symphony of Communication singing in the back of his mind. The chords cut off sooner in the Nether, rather than trailing wild and free like above Dalhni, but they also meshed with the ever-present music that floated to them from street musicians they passed. The melody and Enos both kept his panic away, though it bubbled below the surface of his mind.

  They had slept for several hours, and Sam was starving. The Sathssn hadn’t bothered to take away Sam’s coin purse with Majus Cyrysi’s money. His once-green shirt was very worse for wear, and he didn’t want to know what he looked like. There were mud stains on both his pant legs. He spared a glance at Enos, whose silk shirt was even dirtier than his. Her clothes have been through a mailbox-size slot. He shook the thought away and steered them toward a food vendor, happy to use the Nether’s directional prodding again. I need to stop anyway. The expanse of the Imperium was getting to him.

  They stopped for bowls of Etanela barnacle stew, perching on the high stools outside the café. Sam looked around, making sure no one else was in earshot.

  “Can you change into anything you want?”

  Enos gave him a sharp look.

  “Come on—you can tell me that much. I’m curious. There’s no one near.” Sam tried out a smile, letting his mind wander, just a little.

  Enos looked around too, then combed her hair back with one hand. Sam watched it curl around her ear. “Neither of us have changed often. Our parents taught us only to do so in emergencies. We can mimic biological things. It is not as easy to copy inorganic items.”

  “All at once, or can you do different parts?”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “Just asking.” He shrugged. Images of Inas and Enos floated through his mind, both changing size and shape, both very close, at the same time, their clothes too loose, too tight, falling off— He looked down, his face hot.

  “Uh huh.”

  He could hear that half smile.

  They turned in their bowls and covered the rest of the distance to the Spire. It was easy not to get lost. It towered over everything else, snugged against a column.

  When they finally got to the House of Communication, Majus Cyrysi was not home. It was early evening, as they had wandered slowly all day, Enos letting Sam set the pace. He wondered where his mentor could be. Had he returned to Methiem to look for them? They tried the councilor’s apartment. Sam tried not to complain about going back down all the flights of stairs.

  The Councilor Ayama’s apartment was empty and dark. Soft, high chimes floated through chords and arpeggios, a background lullaby. There was a little window by the front door, and Sam looked through it, peering between cupped hands.

  “All the furniture is gone. It’s like she’s moved.”

  Enos frowned, gestured to a plate set into the stone of the wall, stating in small letters, ‘Head of House of Healing.’

  “If this is the apartment belonging to the councilor, and the councilor has moved out, then where is she?” Sam asked.

  “And where did she take my things?” Enos said.

  “Surely you children are not speaking of Majus Rilan Ayama?” came a smooth voice from behind them. It had a slight lisp.

  They turned to see a Methiemum of medium build, with greasy black hair and a ridiculous looking moustache. Sam tried to keep his expression straight as the man reached up with a hand and twisted one end to make it stand straight out. Don’t laugh.

  “Majus?” Enos asked. Sam hadn’t registered the word the first time, but now he started.

  “You mean the councilor?” He didn’t know who this man was, but he took an instant dislike to him.

  The man twirled a hand in the air to force back a length of dark blue lace overhanging his wrist. He pointed back toward the main building.

  “You’ll find the majus back there. Floor three, or something. I can’t keep up with where all the lower maji live, of course. I’m only just getting into my role as councilor, after all.”

  “Excuse us,” Enos told him, and pulled Sam along behind her.

  * * *

  Rilan looked up at the knock at the door, raising a hand for silence. They were discussing undermining the Council’s power, and not all that quietly. Were her new neighbors nosing in on her lowered position already?

  “Shiv’s knobbly kneecaps, but that had better not be Vethis coming around to gloat. I might just forget he’s a councilor for a moment or two.” She pushed herself up, and Ori laid a brief hand on her arm.

  “Careful.” Now he got cautious. Not when facing down one of his voids.

  Rilan glanced around as she went to the door. There was nothing to say they had been actively hatching a plan in opposition to the will of the Council. She rubbed at her forehead like there was a target painted there. The others adopted poses of innoce
nce, but no one said anything. They were all watching her.

  She looked through the peephole just as a hand reached out, obscuring who was on the other side. She jumped back as the knock rang out, cursed, and then jerked open the door in irritation.

  “I’m coming. Brahm’s balls, you can’t wait a moment to let me—”

  Her words cut off as her mouth hung open, probably making her look like a gasping fish. Then she was thrust aside by a bolt of red and silver silk from behind her. Inas dashed through the door and embraced his sister and Sam.

  “You are alive,” he murmured into Enos’ hair as he crushed both the apprentices close. Enos hugged him back equally as fiercely, though Sam tensed, only for a moment. Then Inas drew back, looking between them. “What?”

  “Later,” Enos said. The two shared something in their look, though Rilan couldn’t make it out.

  Rilan pulled Inas away from her apprentice, looking into her face. “How are you?”

  “We are well,” Enos said.

  Sam nodded. “Just a little dirty.”

  “I have been missing you, boy,” Ori said, behind her. She could hear the smile in his voice.

  Rilan shook her head. Was everyone going to go all gooey today? “Come in—no sense standing about in the hallway. Quick.” She ushered them back inside and risked one peek back down the corridor after them. No suspicious heads poked out of doorways. She shut the door firmly and locked it.

  Sam and Enos found seats in the chaos of chairs that filled Rilan’s new, smaller, front room. Inas sat next to them, beside his sister. For once, Sam wasn’t in the middle. The two looked like they had crawled through mud.

  There was a silence, and Rilan searched for words.

  “So. These apprentices are back,” Caroom said.

  “Um. Yes,” Sam said.

  Rilan rolled her eyes. “Let’s start at the beginning. How did you survive the void?”

  Enos seemed about to answer, but a movement from Sam stopped her. He was staring at Hand Dancer, frowning.