“Rilan, be attending to the Drain, rather than this petty rivalry, yes?” Ori murmured behind her. She didn’t take her eyes off Nakan, but she knew Ori’s crest would be sticking out at all angles. She ignored him.
“You want to fight, or talk?” she asked Nakan. She kept her eyes on the triangle between his shoulders and navel. She would see any twitch of his hips or shoulders, be ready for his attack.
“Us, we have not yet had our rematch,” Nakan purred. “Twice, I have achieved what I wanted, in the warehouse and on the bridge. You, you think you can stop me?” Out of her peripheral vision, Rilan saw the soldiers shuffle forward. If they regained their courage, she would move back. The doorway was a good chokepoint, and she adjusted so she was just inside the opening.
“It is, hmm, still growing,” Caroom rumbled behind her. “The object is, hmm, bigger than a Pixie now.”
“We’ve taken away most of your void seeds,” she told Nakan. “In the time you take to fight us, the void will destroy the rest. I bet those take a while to create.”
“Many cycles,” Nakan grated. His left boot slid back as Rilan slid hers forward, making no sound on the rough, compressed dirt of the tunnel floor. “Yet our organization, we can make more.”
“All this, none of it matters,” interrupted a voice behind Nakan, and another figure pushed to the front, forcing Nakan to lose his position.
Rilan frowned, and relaxed. Talking it was. She loosened her fist slightly. Nakan would not get away with what he’d done. “And who are you?”
“Me, I am Janas, leader of the Life Coalition. You may have detonated the seeds, but you have only furthered our plans.” The speaker peered around Rilan’s shoulder to see the pulsating void behind.
That got Nakan’s attention. “Me, I have not heard this.” Finally, he looked away from Rilan and she rolled her shoulders to release their tension.
“If you attended all our meetings you would know,” Janas retorted. “You maji, you have achieved what we thought lost. If only us, we knew setting off all seeds at once would start the reaction we tried for cycles to achieve. Careful planning replaced by simple luck of the crater’s pit.”
“You are knowing of the one coming through the Drain?” Ori asked, pushing Rilan aside. She growled, trying to monitor Nakan. But he could no longer engage her, and Rilan’s attention shifted to the void. The thing inside was a dark shadow, closer than before. Better to fight the unknowns.
Another Coalitioner pushed Nakan ever farther to one side. “This, it is what we meant to do with the void in the Assembly—open the bridge to a place of great power. The other, they will give energy to solve the problems of Sath Home and have enough left to bring peace to the Assembly.”
“Sacrifices, they must be made for true peace,” the cloaked figure said. “Us, we have been directed for over a century by the original plan of Slithen the Dreamer. The Dreamer, he was the first to contact the presence on the plane of great power. He brought us here.”
“Them, they will not understand the revelations of Slithen, Iano,” Janas said.
“This is the first we’ve heard of them,” Panen said. Zie was keeping one eye on the void.
“Now, let us through, and we will show you the power of our prophesy,” Janas said. She took one step forward, but Ori came abreast of Rilan and intercepted her path.
“There is to be no such thing as prophesy,” Ori growled, his crest low. “Everything can be proved by study.”
“Then us, how did we come to this small body in the space above Sath Home?” Iano asked, his gloved hands spreading. “We came where no majus has been before, and founded this fortress. This, it has been the stronghold of the Life Coalition ever since.”
“Luck,” Ori said, but Rilan moved toward the void. The Coalitioners knew more about what was happening than they did. Did they really have some prophesy?
The shadow was growing faster, and had replaced the Life Coalition as the greatest threat. “As fascinating as it is, we may have to shelve this discussion,” she said, and pointed. Everyone turned to look.
“The bringer of dreams, they come!” Janas shouted, and pushed forward. Rilan batted at Janas’ gloved hand as the Sathssn thrust her aside. “If only my parents were alive to see this! Slitho and Harha, they worked so long for this goal!”
Caroom brought their hands up to trap the Coalitioner, but Rilan shook her head. They would all see this person the Life Coalition claimed would bring peace to the Assembly.
The shadow was obvious now, large and bulky inside the void. It looked like nothing so much as a giant gestating cocoon, the bubbling convolutions hiding what was inside.
Without speaking, the other Coalition leaders flooded into the room. Their chokepoint of the doorway was gone, but Rilan doubted a fight was coming, at least not with the Life Coalition. A hooded figure nodded to her and Rilan frowned at the creaky motions of the figure. He was obviously an old Sathssn, but still graceful of movement.
“Our last meeting, it was many cycles ago,” the figure said. “Me, I keep up to date with the work you did on the Council. You were a satisfactory choice to replace me.”
Rilan’s eyes widened, “Zsaana?” she asked and the figure gestured acceptance. So he was here. “I thought the apprentices were mistaken when they said you took up with this bunch. But you were always a close-minded old hard-ass, weren’t you?”
“Yet one who will be proved correct in his choice of side,” Zsaana said, and nodded toward the void. “The prophesied one comes.”
Ori sidled next to her and reached for her hand. Rilan took it. Nothing in her adventures with him or her time on the Council had prepared her for this. She stroked her thumb down the back of his hand. She would face it with him.
The skin of the void split like a rotten melon, and Rilan had a glimpse of a reddish, featureless plane before a body eclipsed it.
The thing which came through was pitch black with vivid orange stripes running across its body. It moved in a sinuous line, hundreds of little orange cilia on its sides rippling to propel it forward, like a brightly colored and poisonous millipede. Several people took a step back at its wavelike motion, like a shark swimming on land.
The creature was as long as Rilan was tall, and its body narrowed on both ends, but she could find no face, or even a head. A fleshy fin on top of the body rippled in the same way the sides did, a wave of threat.
We/I are come/searching to receive the tribute/payment of energy/power offered by the Dreamer, it said, though Rilan could see no mouth. Where is it/will it be?
She frowned over at Janas. It was almost as if the creature said two different things at once. But the Life Coalition’s leader said the creature would bring them boundless energy, not that it was looking for more. Janas’ hood was cocked in surprise, and Zsaana took a step back, his hand rising to press to his chest.
They hadn’t expected the creature either. Rilan clenched her free fist again. She wondered if there would be a fight after all.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Congruence
- With Councilor Feldo missing, many of Speaker Oscana’s remarks lack their usual insight, and the Council of the Maji seems lessened. I have nothing against the Head of the House of Grace—she is of my species, after all—but I do not believe the Council is acting in concert. The heads of the Houses of Power and Healing are new, still finding their place, and the heads of the Houses of Communication and Strength are, well, I shall say they have not contributed greatly in the past few cycles. With all these disruptions, we must depend on the quiet leadership and wisdom of our Effature, Bolas Palmoran, while dealing with the demands of the Life Coalition and the revelation of the Aridori’s continued existence. I do not know what we would do withou
t his guidance and advice.
News article quoting Rabata Liinero Humbano, Head Speaker for the Etanela
Sam inhaled a ragged breath as he exited the wall with Inas, and heard his boyfriend do the same. They hadn’t needed to breathe in the wall, but now his lungs screamed.
“There’s no one here,” Inas said. Sam looked around. The bridge—turned to steel by his work—was empty. He could feel his notes boosting the music into a different key. They resonated in the crystal ring that now graced his left forefinger. He’d left that portion of himself here. So many of his notes were missing—a mistake to leave them.
Sam reached to take the notes back and a wave swept through the bridge, steel shifting through colors until it was once again stone. The surge ended below his feet, and Sam straightened, energized.
Inas watched the transformation, gripping Sam’s hand as if to keep his balance. “I heard parts of the bridge’s structure changing,” he said. “But if I tried that with the House of Strength, the music would have been ridiculously complex.” His eyes were drinking in Sam’s face. “I didn’t know you were so strong.”
Sam shrugged, oddly embarrassed. “I don’t know if strength has anything to do with it. My house seems to have a lot of overlap with the others. Majus Ayama and Majus Cyrysi also heard parts of what I changed.”
“What could we do, working together in the Symphony?” Inas said. He squeezed Sam’s hand. “Even more when we get Enos back.” His face screwed up in sadness. “We could almost hear each other’s music sometimes, though Majus Caroom said that was impossible.”
“We will get her back,” Sam said. He stared into Inas’ eyes. They were dark, with little flecks of a lighter green or hazel around the edges of the irises. It almost matched the color of the House of Strength.
Sam forced himself to peer over the side of the bridge. The area was deserted. “We’ve been gone almost two days, and something big happened while we were in the other facet. I think Majus Ayama and Majus Cyrysi went after Enos, but they left no one here to meet us?” The certainty that no one really wanted him around rose up, but he quashed the thought. Inas was right beside him.
“We were the first to pass through the wall in centuries.” Inas said. “Vaevicta wanted us to report back to our Effature.”
“The Effature.” Sam looked to Inas, his eyes widening. This Effature, Bolas Palmoran, was an Aridori like Crominu Vaevicta. He was her other instance, like Inas and Enos. “Yes, we have to find him.”
They tried Majus Cyrysi’s room first because they were halfway up the House of Communication. It was empty, no note. Not that he expected one. Maybe from Majus Ayama, but not from his absent-minded mentor.
“We could see if Majus Caroom is home,” Inas suggested. “I have barely seen my mentor since…” He looked away, and Sam rubbed his back. There was more—much more—Inas needed to work through with those memories, but Sam knew how long it could take. He’d be there to help Inas out.
But Majus Caroom was also not at home and the grounds around the houses of the maji were deserted. Usually, other maji would be out wandering the paths.
“What’s going on? I’m getting worried,” Sam said. They stood in the gardens of the Spire, alone. He tried to push away the panic climbing up his throat. “All of the maji didn’t go to find Enos. Where are they? Can you feel anything from her? ”
Inas shook his head again, his black hair trailing across his shoulders. “I…do not know. I felt nothing when she connected with me. Perhaps she excels at it. But the Effature must know more and I need to speak with him. About a lot of things.”
“Then we’ll go to the palace.” Sam said the words decisively, but the old fear rose at walking through the Imperium again.
No! I’ve been through the wall of the Nether. I’ve visited the House of Time. Stop being afraid!
It didn’t help completely, but he took a step forward, gripping Inas’ hand.
Inas bumped his shoulder. “I’ll stay close.” He leaned in and Sam tilted his face down for another kiss. The lack of anyone else around made it seem like a secret they shared.
He stopped, a breath away from Inas’ lips, as someone did turn the corner at a run. He was an older, round, and pale-skinned Methiemum, who looked familiar. He wiped sweat from his forehead.
“One of the apprentices said they saw you wandering around,” the man said, gesturing to Inas and Sam. “Come quick. He’s been asking about you, and I don’t want to be away from him for long.”
“Who?” Sam asked, as he fell into step behind the man. Inas was right beside him. “Majus Cyrysi?”
“Majus Caroom?” Inas asked at the same time. The man shook his head.
“The Effature. Where have you been? Everyone’s heard of the attack. The Assembly is losing their minds. Most of the maji are there now, except for the ones trying to break down my door.”
“The attack?” Sam said as Inas said, “The Effature? What happened?”
Was this what he’d felt in the House of Time? An event big enough to scatter the maji and injure the Effature?
The man stopped walking, turning to peer into their faces. Then he spun away and walked even faster. “He can tell you better than I. I just helped work on him. Strangest operation I’ve seen. The knife scrambled his melody. Almost as if he weren’t Methiemum anymore. If that Vish-cursed circlet he wears hadn’t interfered with my music, I could have healed him, but he refused to take it off.”
Finally Sam remembered the man’s face—Majus Szaler, the new head of the House of Healing. He’d taken Majus Ayama’s place on the Council. He would have been able to detect the Effature’s true species, wouldn’t he? Sam traded a look with Inas, who shrugged one shoulder, as if to say ‘don’t press the question.’
They hurried through the House of Healing and into the medical facilities that had grown up beside it. It was not quite like a hospital from Earth, but there were fast-moving doctors and nurses, the occasional long-faced person, standing by themselves, and the smell. That was ubiquitous, it seemed.
Four of the Effature’s guards were lined up outside the door the surgeon led them to, along with a group of maji who all vied for Majus Szaler’s attention. He waved them away, and hustled Sam and Inas through the crowd.
“He’s insisted he talk with you, but he’s barely stabilized,” Majus Szaler said. “Do not tire him out.” The surgeon pressed the door open and gestured them through to a sizeable room—larger than any hospital room Sam had seen, with several writing desks, a bed, a table with six chairs, and a large couch circled by more chairs. More like a meeting room than a hospital room.
I guess when you’re the leader of the Nether, you get special circumstances.
The Effature was lying on the low couch, wearing the same clothes he always did, the circlet gracing his head. Aside from a bandage around his middle, he could have been taking his ease, but his face was pale—almost gray.
“Come in, please,” he said, gesturing with both hands, but the movement was weak. “That is sufficient, Szaler,” he called. The round man grumbled, but shoved his way back out. Sam could hear him arguing with the maji outside.
As soon as they were alone, the Effature’s face drooped, and deep circles appeared under his eyes.
No, those aren’t circles. His skin’s turning black, growing scales. Like an Aridori’s face.
“You are with friends, sir,” Inas said. “We met Vaevicta. She sends regards and much love to her other instance. She wants you to visit her.” He reached out. “If I may?”
Sam watched his friend. Inas had a sad smile on his face. What had he learned from Vaevicta while Sam had been with Wor Wobniar?
Inas and the Effature clasped hands, their fingers melding into each other’s hands, and both closed their eyes. It was what Vaevicta did with Inas when they met.
The Effature sank deeper into the couch, and his features became plastic, sliding between those of an old man, and of another creature entirely, with a long black scaly
snout.
It was only a few moments before Inas and the Effature opened their eyes. The old man’s features returned almost to normal, save some scaliness around the sides of his face and in his hands.
“Thank you for sharing,” he told Inas, who bowed his head. “I see my other instance has kept her memories better than I.”
“She urged you to change more,” Inas said, but the Effature waved his words away.
“That is not pressing at the moment.” He looked to Sam. “Did you discover more of the Dissolution from Prophet Wor Wobniar?”
“I did,” Sam said, “though something is happening with Majus Ayama and the others. Wor Wobniar thinks it will bring the Dissolution even sooner. We both saw…”
He trailed off as the Effature and Inas stared at him. Sam hadn’t told even his boyfriend yet.
He quickly recounted what he and Wor Wobniar had done, even including details about the hidden and shifting House of Time.
“And an event so pressing occurred—here?—that it alerted both you and the prophet?” the Effature asked.
“Yes,” Sam said. “Was it the attack on you? Wor Wobniar wanted me to stay and study with xyr, but the lines—” He shook his head. The others wouldn’t understand. “That is, it seemed I needed to come back immediately.”
“You see my injury.” Palmoran gestured to the bandage around his middle. “I was attacked by one of the Life Coalition, dissatisfied, I suspect, by how his fellows were proceeding with the Assembly.”
“Can you not…” Inas asked, waving his hands vaguely.
Bolas Palmoran shook his head. “I have not changed enough recently. Healing of wounds I might have done in my youth, if dire enough, but no longer.” He repositioned, his face pinching in pain. “There was a foreign agent in the blade. As if the wielder knew how to damage my—our—species.” He included Inas with a look.
“And the maji went after the Life Coalition?” Sam asked.
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