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Facets of the Nether

Page 19

by William C. Tracy


  “You been keeping things from me, Krat?” Gompt growled.

  “Perhaps not voicing things when there was no relevance,” Mandamon suggested. “There are many secrets Moortlin kept from us. I know some, through cycles of research, but lately I found a new one. I had heard rumors of a source for nearly unending change to the Symphony, but had no proof.” He gestured to the Sathssn majus. “Surely you have heard the legend of Slithen the Dreamer?”

  The Sathssn frowned. “This, it is a local legend, particular to the Most Traditional Servants. No one with sense gives it credit.”

  Mandamon nodded. “Yes, many of logic and reasoning wouldn’t. Yet it appears in Moortlin’s notes, cross-linked to comments on the Dissolution.”

  “What’s the story?” Emma asked, and Mandamon transferred his gaze to the young woman.

  “In a few words, a seer of the Sathssn—a holy member of the diocese of the Most Traditional Servants—was sent a vision of beings the Assembly has never seen. There are no descriptions of who or what these beings are. I believe he thought they were divine in some way. They spoke to him of the coming Dissolution, and a power strong enough to stop it. These otherworldy beings might also be noted in Moortlin’s files, though it is a connection I don’t think they ever made.”

  “Stop the Dissolution?” Laryn asked. “What are you getting at, Mandamon?”

  Mandamon creaked to his feet, and began pacing. He had patched together this theory from many sources, not all reliable. But the picture they told was unmistakable. He only had to lead the others step by step to the obvious answer, so he didn’t scare them off and ruin his plans for a new Society.

  “The real reason I brought you here was not dusty furniture unused for cycles.” He swiped a finger through a line of dust on the top of the table in the middle of the circle of chairs. “What I have to show you is downstairs. Laryn, if you would help please.”

  Together they moved the table aside, the Lobath shooting suspicious glares at him. Once it was clear of the circle of seats, they could all see a trail free from the worst dust, outlining a square of floorboards. He reached down with a grunt and pulled on an iron ring. That would make his back hurt tomorrow. A section of the floor came with it, and he added a few notes to the chorus of the Symphony describing the rusty hinges, imparting a little of his momentum into them. The trap door swung up easily, surrounded by an aura of brown, and he took his notes back. He no longer had any to waste, at his age.

  “They were hiding something, weren’t they,” Gompt said, Krat clicked forward so he could see down the hole. “I knew it. Always thought that couple was holier-than-thou, but I never would have known this was here.”

  As the others lit the lanterns Mandamon had instructed they bring, the darkness fled to reveal a ramp into a large section of tunnel, reaching down and away from the foundations of the house.

  “Krat should be able to navigate this,” Mandamon told Gompt, who nodded appreciatively, pushing his glasses back up his snout.

  He led them below the house, into tunnels of rough, excavated dirt. There were few large stones in the Nether, since it had no mantle as a planet would. However, there was plenty of compacted earth between the house and the floor of the Nether. He suspected it had collected over thousands of cycles, as beings arrived through portals and brought detritus with them.

  Mandamon gestured to the equipment and devices, collected from various hidden rooms and abandoned buildings where he had stashed them over the cycles. While Gompt, Krat, Touching Digits, and Laryn had contacted the others, he had brought the equipment here by many portals over a matter of days.

  Touching Digits stroked a piece with scores of fluting cylinders extending from a central sphere. His hands indicated surprise.

  “It was,” Mandamon answered. He’d kept some of these pieces for over fifty cycles, knowing they were unique. “Please, explore. Some of these items may be familiar to the oldest of you, but all are valuable and, I believe, essential for the new Society.”

  He watched them, his beard covering his smile, while they made exclamations of surprise over pieces of technology thought lost in the original mansion’s closure, or expressions of enjoyment over how they could use esoteric equipment in an experiment. The two young Methiemum huddled over a pneumatic hose-assembling fixture, wondering how they could use it increase the speed of new water line construction. Laryn and the other Lobath eyed a prototype radio transmitter, though this one had the ability to save messages passing through it—which the modern versions did not do.

  After letting the others mill, Mandamon coughed to get things started.

  “Let us imagine a scenario,” he suggested, and waited until the others disengaged from their investigations and gave their attention to him. “Some of you remember the old Society. To put it bluntly, you must know that as a majus controls more aspects of the Symphony, they often exhibit what we might refer to as…instabilities.”

 
Touching Digits signed, his fingers twisting in hesitant acceptance.

  “And what do you mean by ‘more aspects?’” the Yutirei, the Etanela asked, suspicious. “Maji can control either one aspect, or two.”

  “Not necessarily,” Mandamon said. He raised one finger. “There have been isolated cases, never well documented.”

  “Cases of what?” Gompt asked. “It’s not like there are maji who can hear three aspects of the Symphony.”

  “Untrue,” Krat grated.

  “Girl, we need to have a long talk when this is over,” Gompt said. “You’ve been holding out on me all these cycles.”

  “Krat has the right of it, though I don’t know how,” Mandamon said. He’d only found Moortlin’s notes on their encounter with the strange child about a cycle ago. It had been well hidden in the old Benish’s notes, encrypted with a particularly difficult cipher. “Three-house maji do exist, though so rarely they are almost never observed in their brief existences. However, they are an almost unlimited font of power.”

  “Power, this is as in the legend of Slithen the Dreamer?” the Sathssn asked.

  “Forgive me. Tell me your name again,” Mandamon said. “My memory fails me as I age.”

  “Gretahn, Councilor,” the Sathssn answered. Under his stare, she continued. “Of the houses of Power and Healing.”

  “You will make an excellent addition to the Society, Gretahn,” he said. “And you are correct. The Life Coalition has designed their own method of contacting those who gave Slithen his dreams, and you have seen their results in the Dome of the Assembly.” Several maji shivered, and Touching Digits made a sign to ward off ill intention. “I think I have a better way to contact those who made themselves known to Slithen, for I believe they were three-house maji, signaling from where they have secluded themselves outside our existence. The Sathssn would not understand their true potential.”

  Touching Digits twisted his hands in an unsure laugh.

  “Perhaps not so fancifully,” Mandamon said, “but yes.”

  “Then this, why hasn’t it been done before?” Gretahn asked. Her slitted eyes watched the others, flicking every once in a while to him.

  “Two house maji are often regarded as a bit…odd,” Mandamon said, and there was a smattering of nervous laughter. Mandamon opened his hands. “I will be the first to accept that label. We are in like company here.” He watched the exchanged glances, the subtle shift in body language. Those were the seeds of the camaraderie that built the previous Society—a shared bond of secrecy and acceptance.

  “Use your imagination. You know how you regard the melodies around you. How would it feel to access a third aspect of the Grand Symphony, when it takes so much concentration to affect tw
o? Can you imagine the stress on the individual? How much effort it would take to parse three Symphonies running through your mind?”

  “But none of us have ever suspected three-house maji exist,” Emma objected. “Surely we would see some sign, if they are so powerful.”

  Mandamon caught her eye. “But what if, by having access to a full half of the six houses of the Grand Symphony, they can perceive the coming Dissolution? Little wonder they secrete themselves in some other place to avoid it. Yet some seek to warn our reality through dreams. They may even be willing to help stop or slow what is coming.”

  “If they are so powerful, what need is there of our help?” The other young Methiemum asked, in a shaky voice.

  “I hypothesize we must assist any who wish to cross back to our existence to aid against the Dissolution,” Mandamon said. “My theory is that the sound of this universe is too great for the three-house maji to bear for long. Thus they move to a pocket universe, or another reality, where the Grand Symphony is lessened, as are the effects of the Dissolution. To help them return and thus harness the power they represent, we must create safe passage and protection from the effects of the Symphony.”

  “He has a point, though,” Gompt said, pointing to the young majus. “These beings, if you’re correct, contacted this Slithen fellow. Does the Life Coalition have designs on them?”

  “Unknown,” Mandamon said. “Though the house above is abandoned, these tunnels have only been empty since the maji recently chased the Life Coalition from them. It was one reason I chose them.” That got their attention.

  “Are you sure those suckers aren’t coming back here?” Gompt asked.

  Touching Digits said.

  “This is the only place I know of where the Life Coalition made a headquarters in the Nether,” Mandamon said. “So this shall be where we contact the three-house maji.” He gestured to the equipment he had rescued. “These pieces can aid us, I believe. I have the basic idea for a design, but we will need time, dedication, and source of energy to complete it.”

  “We put together plenty of projects with large power sources back in the old days.” Gompt patted Krat’s flank with a furry paw. “Krat here takes quite a bit of power, both from the Symphony and from more esoteric sources.”

  “Most of which I provide,” Krat added.

  Mandamon looked to the group. “Are you with me in bringing a three-house majus to our reality to aid us in holding back the Dissolution? Will you help me create a space to safely channel their energy?”

  There was a beat of silence.

  “I will do this,” Krat said.

  “You know I’m all in,” Gompt added.

  Touching Digits signed.

  The rest followed quickly. This time Mandamon let his grin grow. The first task of the new Society of Two Houses.

  “Let us begin,” he said. It was time to get to work.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The Jaws that Bite

  - My fellow Speaker Nara Jartharian had been feeling ill for a few days, and missed his first ever Assembly meeting. I went to his home in High Imperium to see if I could help, but Jarth would not let me in. We had been friends for many cycles, and had helped each other in many times of strife. Yet when he returned, he acted as if nothing happened. Our friendship has cooled in the past cycle, and by the Greatmother, I think he sometimes looks at me as if I were a meal of stewed desert jumper rather than his old friend. Power does strange things to some people.

  From Accounts of the Assembly, 843 A.A.W.

  After one more fitful night alone with instructions to conserve her mental and physical strength, Nakan brought Enos to where they kept the other Aridori—yet another room in the vast complex. Enos wondered how big this asteroid was. Big enough that the room where she met Putra and Zhaddi was only a place of confinement, for when the slaves of the Life Coalition misbehaved.

  “The others, you will meet them in here. It is where all the vile Aridori live, sharpening their claws and their wits to be our assassins.” He gave her a little shove through the open door. He did not come inside, and shut the door quickly behind her.

  As the stone door closed, her manacles and collar dropped to the floor. There must have been a System installed in the two that cut off when Nakan willed it, outside the door. Enos instinctively reached for the Symphony, but slammed against another barrier keeping the music from her, as if she had struck a plate of glass. She nearly stumbled at the shock, but turned it into an exhale and a step forward. She guessed it wasn’t a good idea to show weakness in front of these Aridori.

  “Ah, finally, our new member arrives,” said Zhaddi, the blue-eyed Aridori. They looked Sathssn today, though as tall as a tall Methiemum. They had kept their eyes the same blue color, though. Sathssn had yellow and red eyes. The disconcerting creation was obviously something the Aridori had created from different species. “I sensed you, in the Assembly, when Zsaana showed me off to all the lovely people there.”

  Enos shivered at the directness of the statement. They had known about her before she even knew they existed. What else did they know?

  “We will introduce you,” Putra said, blinking their purple eyes. They were still in the black, green, and purple scaled form Enos had seen them in yesterday, though their hands were large and furred, like a Festuour. Neither Aridori gave a hint of gender, and since they were no longer in the Nether, it could not say.

  She frowned. She hadn’t realized the day before, but without the Nether translating, the Aridori had understood her. The Nether gave those who could hear the Symphony the ability to understand any language, even when not in the Nether, but these Aridori were not maji. They must have understood her native dialect.

  “Do you speak the Traders’ Tongue?” she asked. It was the language she spoke most naturally.

  “That, and many others,” Zhaddi answered. “After the first ten languages or so, they become easier, especially when one can change the state of one’s vocal chords.”

  Putra held up their hands, which now sported five fingers between a thumb on either side. they signed. Enos blinked at the memory of the words appearing in her head.

  “Let us introduce you,” Zhaddi said. They gestured toward the four silent figures on the back wall of the room. Each was in a similar state, combining aspects from various species.

  Like elsewhere in the compound, the room was a rectangular cave hewn from the rock. Ten smooth lights shone from around the upper extent of the walls—majus-made of some sort, perhaps to keep the Aridori from having any unnecessary implements. Aside from that, the room was featureless. One door, sealed shut, a ceiling just high enough not to feel claustrophobic, but with no extra space. There was a small grate in the door which provided airflow, but the aura of white, brown, and yellow showed it was protected so no Aridori could slip through. Even in Enos’ limited experience with changing form, she could tell the Sathssn knew how to effectively imprison Aridori.

  “They are like us, though not as gregarious,” Putra said, pointing to the four others. “Imprisonment takes its toll on different personalities in different ways.”

  The others stared sullenly at Enos, and the two talkative Aridori did not offer any names for them. Was it because the Sathssn hadn’t given them nicknames? Zhaddi and Putra said Enos’ name was not Aridori. Did they even remember their original names?

  Finally the biggest of the four spoke. They had the face and crest of a Kirian, but the feathers were bright green. Below that, their body was like a Pixie, stretched to a Kirian’s height, covered in interlocking plates of dull blue chitin. “You are here to replace the other? The Accretion? The new Aridori who tried to take their place was not fit for our group.”

&nb
sp; “You mean my brother?” Enos said. She found she had one foot forward already, ready to take on this ancient nightmare of her ancestors.

  How dare they doubt Inas! What did they do to him?

  The big one laughed. “You mean your other instance. Do not use the words of those bound to one form. We are better than they. Our instances are ourselves, given slightly altered conditions.” The Aridori leaned forward, Kirian face opening into a slavering grin that stretched wider than their cheeks. There were sharp Kirian teeth inside the mouth, but they were multiplying, as the face grew black scales. “I would have absorbed him in another few days, had these shrinking Snakes not let him go. His form was weak from containment.”

  Putra made a tutting noise, and put one hand on the big one’s chest. They snarled, but then Putra snarled back, the low rumbling growl putting the hairs on the back of Enos’ neck on end. The big Aridori closed their mouth, but kept their eyes on Enos.

  I am in danger here.

  At least Zhaddi and Putra seemed to like her, for some reason.

  The big Aridori’s last words finally made their way into her mind. Absorb? What did the creature mean by that?

  Then Enos remembered the thing in the box in Gloomlight, the formless Aridori, constrained to no solid shape for so long that they were completely insane. Councilor Feldo had captured them, but they were not just one Aridori. They were several, merged into one…Accretion.

  “Absorbed—” Enos began. She looked at the six Aridori, all fluid in form, changing faster than she had thought possible. “Have you all…”

  “They were the best of us,” Zhaddi sighed. “There were many more with us, originally. We were the last left from the Sathssn’s squads, rounding up our people. We absorbed our other instances and became our full selves, but the Accretion, they were the best at new shapes. They took the rest of our fellows into them, keeping only the finest parts. They were, of course, utterly without reason.”

 

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