* * *
Compared to Nakan, Vethis was easy. A fake to the left, a step to the right, and Rilan grabbed the arm she dislocated earlier. The scum must have been able to put it back in place. He’d always been good at healing. She twisted as she turned, sliding her grip up, and was rewarded with another pop and a gasp from Vethis. Dislocated joints took time to regain their strength.
“No Snake to help you out this time,” she taunted, then heard his notes inserting between measures as he tried to break the tendons in her hand. It was clumsy, and she countered easily, olive flaring against dark blue in a wash of white.
The bell in her braid tinkled as she shook her head. “Hardly worth the effort. You’re weak and lazy, Fernand Vethis, and as soon as we get back, I’ll—”
“No!” The interruption jolted Rilan, and she looked to where Enos was blocking Nakan’s path to the portal. Nakan held Inas immobilized.
“You cannot take him,” Enos insisted, and a white aura gathered about her.
Rilan threw Vethis to the ground, then muted the music of the nerves in his legs just in case. Unfortunately, she had to keep a hand on him to keep him from disrupting the change.
Nakan slipped around Enos so fast Rilan had trouble following his movement. “I will not bring you, girl,” he said. “The Life Coalition, it has enough trouble handling one Aridori in our ranks. As this one has helped the other one to die, so he will fill its place.” Nakan backpedaled toward the portal as Enos advanced.
Change, boy, Rilan thought at Inas, seeing his chance slipping. They know about the prisoner already. Was it through Vethis? The Council might know of the break-in to the prison this morning, but how could they know of the twins? Maybe the Aridori had another way to communicate to the Life Coalition before it died, though that was even more disturbing to contemplate. Something for later.
Regardless, she couldn’t let the slime go, even to help. The moment he got up, they would have an enemy at their back and her chance to rescue Inas—the Aridori—would be lost. She dragged Vethis after her, but she was too slow. The twins had to save themselves. They are so paranoid of being discovered, they will not act even when they are.
Enos ran after the two, but they were at the portal. The Life Coalitioners all were through except Vethis, the majus from the House of Strength, and three non-maji, dead or unconscious. The majus at the portal gestured impatiently.
“Come, Nakan. We must be away.” Enos froze at the voice, then ran for them. The majus from the House of Strength gestured, and planks curled up to block her path, dripping green. “Only one of you,” the majus said, and disappeared into the portal behind Nakan and Inas. The planks collapsed as she did and Enos leapt to where the black hole in the air had been moments before.
“No!” Enos beat hands against her thighs and slumped forward.
Rilan dragged her prize, Vethis swearing and cursing and yelling in pain. “Hand Dancer!” she called into the sudden silence. “Get over here now! We lost one.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
The Last Session
-The Great Assembly takes two long breaks each Nether cycle, which is modeled on the trader’s calendar. This in turn was originally based on the seasons of Methiem, which indicates how much that species plays a part in the politics of the Nether.
From “The Great Assembly through the Ages”
Sam ran to Majus Ayama, Hand Dancer next to him. The former councilor was yelling at the majus she had captured, who was on his back. They took Inas. He’s gone, and they’ll put him in a box like the other one. Enos sat crumpled beside her mentor, head in her hands, and Sam threw an arm around her, his watch in his other hand. “It’ll be alright,” he told her uselessly, squeezing her close. She grabbed at him, pulling him in. She buried her face in his shoulder and wetness seeped into his shirt. The ticking of his watch didn’t help.
“Where is it? Where will they make the void?” Majus Ayama shouted at her prisoner. Sam lifted his head. Two of the lanterns still rested on the crate, throwing weird shadows through the dark warehouse. The third was smashed, its flame extinguished. In their light, he saw the Life Coalitioner was the same greasy man they had encountered in the House of Healing, his moustache all askew.
“I could—I could not stop them,” Enos said into his shoulder, barely audible. “Dunarn took him.”
“And Nakan,” Sam said, and Enos nodded, the motion working tears farther into his shirt. He blinked rapidly, heart racing. “Dunarn opened the portal. We’ll find him.” Enos pulled back and looked him in the face. Can we find him? We still don’t know where they held us. Behind them, the maji grouped around the prisoner, but Sam didn’t pay attention to their words.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and Enos frowned. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you,” he clarified. “I’m sorry I was afraid. I’m sorry I gave you away.” He was breathing too fast, and had to pause to swallow. “If I hadn’t let your secret get out, we wouldn’t be here.”
Enos stared at him a moment, then slowly shook her head. “I was so angry at you.” Sam prepared himself for the outburst, drawing in. It didn’t come. He realized she had spoken in past tense.
“And now?” he asked. He ran arms down her shoulders, waiting for her to push him away.
“We would not have gotten in to see our cousins, and I would not have learned about them.” She twisted in his arms, looking over her shoulder. “I think it was not only Majus Cyrysi who guessed. Majus Ayama was also close to discovering us, and then we would not have found out what the Life Coalition was doing. We are not used to living outside our family, and certainly not with maji.”
“Inas’ hand,” Sam said. It came out before he realized he would say it. “Will it get better? After we find him, that is?”
“I do not know,” Enos said. “I’ve never seen that before.”
“Then we’ll have to find him and fix him up.” He stood, then reached down to pull Enos to her feet. She squeezed his hand, holding on as they turned to the maji.
* * *
Origon watched, tapping his thumbs together, as Rilan kept up a steady stream of curses and invective at the prone Vethis. They had both expected the new Sathssn councilor, Hathssas, to be here. Instead there was this egg-sucking son of a turtle. Was Hathssas not a member of the Life Coalition after all? Or was she merely not at this meeting?
“Hand Dancer,” he said to the approaching Lobhl, “check the portal. See if you can trace where it was going.” It was something the House of Power could do, but not easy in the chaotic residue from so many changes to the Grand Symphony. Hand Dancer would have a better chance of finding something. Meanwhile, he had to make sure Rilan didn’t do anything too permanent to one who was still technically part of the Council.
The Lobhl stepped closer to him, her hands making small gestures only Origon could see—the equivalent of a whisper. she signed.
Origon waved away the apology with one hand. “Do not be second guessing what is done. The flame was well made, and kept the Life Coalitioners from escaping through the other door. Check the portal before it is fading too much.” He hoped Rilan would get something out of the slimy man soon. Hand Dancer gave a short twirl of her fingers in acceptance and stepped away to where the portal had closed.
Origon glanced to Caroom, but the big Benish’s eyes were dimmed in concentration. An aura of green and tan surrounded their many cuts and scrapes, and they were not paying attention. He stepped close to Rilan and gripped her arm.
“Stop it,” he hissed, letting his crest rise. Her stream of abuse cut off, and both she and Vethis looked up in surprise. “You two have been sparring with each other since you were in university.”
“He is Life Coalition, Ori!” Rilan sputtered. “The little slug is sabotaging the harmony of the ten species, may Brahm give him boils and waste his bow
els.”
“And he can be giving us information,” Origon added. His nails were digging into his palm.
“I won’t give you anything,” Vethis snarled up. Origon casually leaned over and cuffed him on the side of the head. Rilan gaped and Vethis shrank down, eyes wide.
“You are the son of a turtle and a jackal,” Origon told him, keeping his voice calm. “Your ancestors must tear their eyes out rather than look down on you. You are a traitor and you will pay.” He paused, took in a deep breath, and smoothed his crest. They were both still staring at him and he realized his teeth were grinding together, one cutting into his cheek. He did not like how the little wretch brought out the worst in Rilan. He forced his jaw to relax.
“We can be doing this the easy way, where you tell us where the Drain is to be, or we can do it the hard way, where I compel your body and Rilan your mind. I am tired, and may upset my composition so your mental acumen is affected. Rilan may accidentally cause you to forever be her admiring servant. We may make mistakes in our haste to save the Nether. What shall it be?”
There was silence. The apprentices were watching, silent and pale.
“The Assembly,” Vethis whispered, and Origon’s head whipped back down to the vile man, his crest stirring in agitation.
“What?”
“It will be in the rotunda of the Assembly while it is in session. The void will take the representatives, the maji, and the Effature.”
“Why now? Why not sooner?” Rilan had finally found her voice.
“I’m not sure,” Vethis muttered, his lisp gone. “I haven’t been privy to all their secrets.” He actually seemed disappointed he hadn’t wormed his way farther in. “Something about a buildup of voids and energy to access the Nether. That’s all I know!” He shrank in on himself as Rilan raised a menacing fist. Before she could do anything, Origon smacked Vethis hard, across the face. More physical violence from her would lead to further ties between the two. Origon simply wanted information from the traitor.
Vethis gasped, and blood ran from his nose.
“Think fast. What else?”
Vethis gasped like a fish and brought up a finger to dab at the blood. “I, I don’t—” Origon raised his hand again. His nails had left red lines down the man’s cheek.
“There’s one on each homeworld!” Vethis blurted. Origon cocked his head and Vethis stuttered, trying to get the words out faster than he could speak.
“A void—a Drain. They’ve made one on all the homewords. I don’t know why. No, wait!” Vethis raised both hands, warding off an attack that didn’t come. “Something I heard—the ten homeworlds all connect to the Nether. The Drains reduce the amount of energy required to—to—”
“To create a Drain in the Nether,” Origon whispered. He felt his crest rise in understanding. “That’s why they were not attacking the Assembly directly. The Nether exists outside the universe, and it must take too much power to create a Drain here—there must be some protection.” He could almost hear the chords of Power that separated the Nether from the homeworlds. It was a focal point, an anomaly. The differences had always confounded him. Maji could make portals to the Nether without having been here before. Why? “They were making the other Drains—Drains that destroy energy—to reduce a barrier required to create one here. They were making it into a distraction, with the secession, the attacks, and the Aridori.”
Origon raised his hand again.
“By all that’s holy, that’s everything I know!” Vethis wailed, hands covering his face. Origon relaxed his hand.
The mental echo of words distracted Origon and he looked to where Hand Dancer had sketched a series of interconnected lines, blazing in the air in front of her. A new section appeared, wavered, and buckled under the combined harmonics.
“Someone from the House of Potential could trace it, even that young Sureri—Brahm’s balls!” White and olive green flared about Rilan’s hands.
A small portal opened underneath Vethis’ head and shoulder as Origon looked back down, and his upper body slid through. Origon made a catch at the man’s legs, but his long fingers closed on air and the portal disappeared with a swirl of white and deep blue.
“Shiv take his eyes!” Rilan punched one hand into another. Hand Dancer’s construct collapsed in a series of harmonic resonances and Origon winced at the dissonance. With two portals occupying nearly the same space, and with a similar endpoint, any hope of tracing the connection was doomed. The Symphony would be resistant to any further such changes.
“That one will, hmmmm, not be treated well by that one’s fellows,” Caroom intoned. Their eyes widened and focused on Origon. “However, the Coalitioners may find out what this group knows and get to the Assembly first. These ones should hurry. Hmmmm.” They gripped their chest with one large hand, rumbling in pain.
“Can you come with us?” Rilan asked them, stepping close. Hands spread on bark-like skin, Rilan probed Caroom’s wounds, white and olive flashing between her fingers.
“This one’s apprentice has been taken. Is there any, hmmmmm, question?” Caroom’s pauses were longer than usual, and they took in a breath after each one. They must be in great pain, but they would also slow the group.
“Your, ah, tissue is broken along here.” Rilan traced a line where a Kirian or Methiemum would have a rib.
“Hmmmm. This one is aware,” Caroom said. “If there is a chance this group might save this one’s apprentice, it must be taken.”
“Even an Aridori?” Rilan asked, and Origon glanced sidelong at her. Had the twins not proven themselves in this fight?
“His name is Inas!” Sam called from the side.
Caroom’s eyes flashed as they looked at Rilan. Some inner part of them creaked as they raised a massive finger. “This one shall not, hmmm, abandon a charge,” they told her sternly. “The Benish have long memories, though this species is not considered a, hmmm, founding species of the Nether. Not all remember the Aridori with such fear and anger. Some remember when those ones were like the rest of the species. Hmmm.” Caroom paused and rested three fingers along a wound, which was oozing thick fluid again. “Perhaps those two are merely what they, hmmm, say. Was that considered?”
Rilan blinked and looked away, though Origon had seen her stand up to screaming senators and charging beasts with equal poise. “Can you function without medical attention for now? I’m, ah, not much good at it myself,” she said.
“A small investment of, hmmm, permanent nature will be enough,” Caroom said, and set his words to action, a line of emerald green and tan tracing along several of his cuts. They stood a little straighter afterwards, but their skin was dull, lacking its usual burnish.
Rilan rounded on Origon, and he felt his crest flatten before he could control it.
“You. How long have you been hiding your weakness?” she asked. “You said your notes were almost restored.”
Origon stammered at the sudden change in topic. He hoped she hadn’t seen his actions during the fight. “It is not so bad,” he said, but she obviously didn’t believe him.
“The capsule took more out of you than you admit,” she said, poking a thin finger into his chest. Origon stepped back a pace, though his balance was still off. “How much of your space flight was permanent?” she asked. “You controlled that shuttle for hours.”
“Most of it was to be permanent,” he admitted quietly. “I was speaking to the engineers for quite some time about it.”
“What about now?” Rilan pressed. “Can you help me stop this? You nearly fell over when you had to fight another majus. It was four on four, and still they got away.”
Origon’s crest fell. Maybe he should be less concerned with Caroom and more for himself.
“I can help,” Sam put in unexpectedly. He withered under Rilan’s glare and even Origon cast an annoyed glance at him. The young man was talented, but he didn’t have a full majus’ training.
“No offense, boy,” Rilan echoed, “but you’re barely able to touch the Symphony. I was planning to leave you behind.” Origon nodded along. Sam’s anxiety would keep him from being much help.
Then Enos placed an arm around him, and Sam straightened. “We can help. We escaped the Life Coalition, Enos and I. We gave you the information you needed to get here. I broke the communication between the people who fought us today. We’re going to find Inas.”
Rilan turned a questioning glance to Origon. He nodded reluctantly. “I am not to be sure how he did it, but Sam garbled the Nether’s translation, for the non-maji.” He would be asking the young man about that. There were limits to what the House of Communication could do. One couldn’t simply rationalize something as a subset of the music of Communication. Some parts of reality were under the control of another house, or of none. The Nether’s music, especially, was impenetrable.
Hand Dancer signed.
“I’m going with Sam,” Enos said. She wiped at both eyes, and smoothed wisps of black hair back and out of her face.
Rilan’s face closed in, calculating, Origon knew. “Let’s stop standing around then,” she said testily. “The Assembly’s last session of the season is tomorrow. The Life Coalition can use a portal to arrive from the homeworld where they meet—Sath Home, I would guess—whereas we are much too close to open one.”
When she slid the door back, the dim rays of first lightening illuminated her. They had taken more time than he thought for the walk through the Bazaar, the fight, and interrogating Vethis.
“We have only a few lightenings before it starts,” Origon said.
* * *
They left the bodies of the Life Coalitioners behind them, and Sam gripped Enos’ arm as they exited the warehouse. Three people are dead, gone, because they were defending their beliefs. The Life Coalition had killed many people, and there was no defense of that. Yet they had to have some reason, didn’t they? Why are they doing this?
The Seeds of Dissolution (Dissolution Cycle Book 1) Page 40
