by Trevol Swift
Jhee glanced out into the gloom and thought she saw a light. She stared back at the warmth and safety of the abbey. Dare she? She did not believe in ghosts and spirits wandering about the grounds. If anything, her locating the smugglers, had made the notion less plausible. Regardless, she felt better with the sage in her pocket. She set off.
Clouds rolled in obscuring the moons. Light rainfall began. Despite the downfall, the vineyard remained clear of fog and mist. The light was definitely on the move. She maintained a constant distance. A concealment charm would not work in such an open setting. The night made a music all its own full of cheeps and chirps. Outside the range of her orb, splashes paralleled her. A frog loudly croaked its annoyance she had disturbed it. It hopped off to join its fellows in their night songs.
Jhee glanced frequently back at the abbey. She pretended she had not spent the day investigating the misfortunes of someone who may have stumbled or been pushed to their death. Possibly after being led astray by mysterious lights in the dark.
She swept the light frequently between the ground and the way further forward. She consulted her conch to gauge how far she might be from the edge of the bluffs.
The light ahead stopped. Jhee hid her orb in her sleeve and shaded her eyes. Whether what she followed was some moor phantasm or a more mundane entity, she preferred not to announce her location so clearly. Jhee held still. After a moment, the light began moving again. Jhee now proceeded with her orb partially hidden. If she stumbled and broke a bone out here, her cohort would never let her hear the end of it.
Amber-lit trees appeared in the distance, the orchard. The light continued toward it. As they approached, brighter lights flickered amongst the trunks. Murmurs and chants carried on the wind. Backlit by the counter light, Jhee’s guide light became not a spirit or wisp, but a robed silhouette. Anger for even entertaining the notion fueled her pace. This accursed abbey and this drenched isle with its superstitious residents had her so wound up.
Jhee hid her orb able to navigate by the light from a bonfire amongst the trees. Rather than follow directly behind the figure, she followed at an angle until they reached a clearing. She flattened herself against a tree just beyond the ring of light. Robed figures circled the clearing, hands linked. Beside the bonfire, crossed beams bore a man strapped to them. A central figure in an elaborate headdress waited beside it. The headdress bore white on black markings with the cephalic lobes of the giant maye. The rear sported a whip-like, spineless tail. Jhee could not be sure, but she thought it was a representation of the Maye Queen.
The figure Jhee had followed presented the Maye Queen with a chalice and dagger. The Maye Queen held them up for all to see. Another figure poured burgundy liquid into the goblet. The Maye Queen went to the man on the cross beams. She cut the air in front of him with the dagger then tipped the cup to his lips. He drank deeply, gaze fixated on the masked figure. Once he had swallowed his fill, he ran his tongue over his lips and waited with parted lips.
With a last brandishing of the dagger, the Maye Queen slashed his chest. The man cried out. Jhee dropped into her first stance but hesitated. The man’s cry had more the sound of ecstasy than pain. He still stared at the Maye Queen without fear in an almost trance-like fixation. A trail of blood opened across his chest. He even bit his lip as she drew the dagger over his flesh two more times.
The Maye Queen held the chalice to the wounds. She sliced her hand and dripped her blood into the vessel, too. She drank and then handed it to the next figure. They drank then passed it on to the following who drank as well. The Maye Queen pressed the blade to his lips. After he licked the blood, he arched his back and moaned.
The robed figures passed the chalice and chanted. They intoned a sequence Jhee had never heard before. After the attendees drank, they swayed in time. The Maye Queen tilted her face to the man on the beams.
“Warrior of Pain come to us. Warrior of Pain come to us,” the figures chanted.
Mist snaked from the man’s mouth to the Maye Queen’s like reversed inspiration. When the Maye Queen stepped away, the man sagged against his restraints. Was this the Mist Abbess of which so many had spoken?
The Maye Queen’s assistant presented her with a bit of cloth. They sang healing sequences and dressed his wounds. The Maye Queen placed a similar headdress with a tail spine and black-on-white markings, the Maye King, on the man.
“The Warrior of Pain is with us,” the man said.
“The Warrior of Pain is with us,” the circle of figures repeated.
The Maye Queen and her assistant cut the man down. Several figures with long staves pounded the ground. The other figures cavorted around the fire. Lady Bathsheba spoke of blood orgies. The Baqairu Blood cult rituals had been infamous for extreme bloodletting and cannibalism.
The capering figures stripped off their robes. Raindrops hissed on the bonfire turning into a woodsmoke-scented mist. The participants of the ritual began kissing and fondling each other. Scandalized, Jhee backed away.
This was just a bunch of dabblers partying. These people did not seem to be interested in kidnapping and killing Prospectives and refugees. Certainly, not secretly poisoning the former abbess. One of their revels may have gotten out of hand. A Prospective who partook too much stumbled off and slipped to his death. The theory still left the problem of the abbess and other two Prospectives. She saw no one involved who was not a willing participant. This made it no matter for the law. Jhee turned around and went back quietly the way she had come.
13 The Tempting Garden
The Garden
The next morning Jhee found Shep sitting in the gardens. She tensed and froze when a salamander hopped away as she neared, but Shep didn’t startle. He only turned her way, beaming. Her sigil remained inert, so she sat the bench beside him.
“Morning, dear husband.”
“Morning, dear wife.”
“How is Mirrei doing?”
“She seems better. She and Kanto are off exploring the courtyard.”
The rains had picked up again today. The skies strayed beyond a mild overcast, but nowhere the previous days’ gales. The wall had added an extra layer of unpredictability to the weather. The high artificers had yet to perfect the formula. Artificers were still required to keep it operating efficiently. Soon enough, they expected to complete the perpetual motion sequence to make it self-sustaining. The derivations would be reintegrated every now and then, but it would hold on its own without constant tending. Barbarian raids and the need for protections like the berserkers would be a concern of the past.
“How are you faring?” Jhee asked.
“Dari and I went out for a run earlier this morn.”
“Good.”
Jhee expelled a breath relieved Shep answered the question she had not asked. The cramped confines of the yacht may not have suited him, but he had not complained. The weather had not afforded Dari or Shep enough time and space to roam as they would and relieve some of the pressure. They had needed more time above deck.
“We all needed off that boat.”
“Did we? Or was it another way of avoiding Kanto?”
“You seem to have more than made up for it.”
“My conversations with him regarding you are not substantively different than my conversation with you regarding him. He’s young, healthy, and wants to please you.”
“He was a fitting choice as second.”
“Kanto deserves a say.”
“What of the conversations between you and Mirrei?”
The look he returned had a tinge of anger mixed with bewilderment. “There are no such talks between Mirrei and me. That I leave to you. As that arrangement was made without my input, your other plans for her should be too.”
“We owed them.”
“Did we?”
“I owe them.”
“I re-submit my previous response with the pronouns changed. Mai made her own choices.”
Mai: their nickname when they were young for Mirrei’s mo
ther.
“She and her family were finally out of our lives.” Shep’s arm tensed. “One of my sisters contacted me the other day.”
Jhee chocked her teeth together then pressed her mouth into a flat line. He did not need to clarify which; the one who had sided with Mirrei’s family against them. If he wanted to depth charge the conversation, he could choose no better topic. “The archives were extraordinary. I think I may have scuttled my opportunity to visit them again.”
“Well, dear wife, it’s lucky I proved more charming. While you ran about the isle, I viewed the autopsy images and secured permission to perform an autopsy.”
“Good on you. Aren’t you industrious?”
“Isn’t that why you keep me around?”
“Oh, is that why?”
Shep reached out and tickled the small of her back. She slapped his hand away with a laugh.
“Don’t think I’m not angry with you for telling him about that place on my back.”
“I see myself in him. I took pity on him. He wants to please you. You should let him.”
Jhee and Shep had spoken of finding a training husband. She had agreed reluctantly, but she had still not thought Shep serious until he returned with Kanto in tow. “He’s so young. They both are.”
“Those are good things. New energy to revitalize the household.”
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate their refinement and vigor. My tastes have always leaned towards a more rugged handsomeness.” Jhee winked at Shep. He smirked. “I’m late for my lessons with Mirrei. Would you fetch us some breakfast and some treats? I saw some lace root melons during our tour.”
“I’ll see to it.”
Jhee and Shep held hands before she left.
The Refectory Incident
“I wonder what’s taking denme so long with breakfast?” Mirrei said after the lesson.
“Perhaps he got to talking with the clergy. Many are vets,” Jhee said.
Kanto scoffed. “Denme? Talking?”
“Fine. Grunting in the affirmative,” Mirrei said. They giggled.
“Be nice, you two,” Jhee said.
“Yes, denbe.”
Jhee wondered as to Shep’s whereabouts herself. He went to fetch their breakfast some time ago. The sigil on her arm itched. She pulled out her conch. It had died at some point during the night. Kanto offered his.
Bax answered instead of Shep. “Justicar, Makers’ thanks. The refectory, quickly.”
Yells and roars let loose in the background. The conch screen’s image devolved into streaks and blurs. Jhee rushed to the abbey entrance.
Mirrei and Kanto had gathered their things. “Wait for us.”
“No. No.” The sigil on her arm burned enough to cause pain now. Jhee dared not bring them into a dangerous situation blind. She glanced around the courtyard. Their room would be more defensible, but dare she send them back unguarded? “Stay here. Don’t leave unless, Bax, Shep, or I come for you.”
“If someone’s hurt, I can help,” Mirrei said.
“Do as I say! Stay here. Both of you. Watch for anything... strange.”
Mirrei and Kanto clutched each other. Jhee strode from the courtyard.
“Demons!”
“The Unmaking!”
Clerics and laypeople ran by her and away from the din of fighting. Jhee skidded to a stop at the refectory entrance. Several tables had been upturned. More diners sheltered behind them.
Shep whirled on her, his eyes fiery orange, teeth elongated. His nostrils flared. Deep, rapid breaths expanded his chest. His muscles had thickened, and his bulk had increased. A bench scraped against the floor stones. Shep spun towards the sound. Several clerics hurried away. Others had taken defensive stances. Shep hunched. His fingernails formed now into deadly sharp claws.
“No one move,” Jhee said. She slipped a hand inside her robes to the sigil. “Shep, look at me. Please.”
He snapped his head back in her direction. The Professed rushed him. He flung two aside then roared. His skin had taken on the black and sleekness of the orcinus, the whale crusher. More Professed surrounded him. He grabbed the heavy wooden table and hurled it into their midst. They scattered.
A few older Professed grabbed mugs which they struck against the table while they grunted in time. Shep paused.
With shaky gestures, a Prospective prepared to draw fire.
“No,” Jhee yelled. Shep put himself in between her and the threat. He drew back to strike. Dari bounded into the refectory and hurled herself into Shep. He crashed backward. Dari planted herself in front of him with a warning growl. A Professed warrior tackled the foolish Prospective to the ground. Others piled on Shep. Jhee dug her nails into the sigil to activate it.
A dog-like yelp came from Shep. He stiffened then fell to the ground. He rapidly returned to his normal state. Jhee rushed over and cradled his head. Dari whimpered as she curled up beside them.
Sister Serra and several Professed came over. She held her hand above Shep’s head. Dari snapped at them. “May we?”
Jhee nodded and petted Dari’s head. Sister Serra examined him while the others locked their hands and chanted. Shep’s eyes opened. They helped him to his feet.
Sister Serra and the Professed escorted Shep to the side.
The abbess arrived. “What has happened here?”
“I beg your forgiveness, Abbess. My husband, Dawn Wolf, had a mental crisis.”
“Crisis? He went feral. I’ve seen it before,” Sister Elkanah said. “You have a duty to report this.”
“He did not go feral.” Jhee paused to mitigate her tone. “I will, of course, report this.”
“Must you really?” Sister Serra asked. “Your own husband.”
“Because he is my husband, it is more incumbent upon me to pursue this. I must render judgment under the law without fear or favor even to him. I’ll recuse myself from the case and call in another Justicar to render judgment once communications return.”
“What if he regresses again?” Sister Elkanah asked. “Justicar, is he not guilty of crimes under the law? This man endangered the life of a government official as well as senior members of the abbey. He should be confined, not coddled.”
Sister Serra tsked. “What of compassion, mercy, second chances, forgiveness, Sister? Do these mean nothing to you? Do the ways of the faith mean so little to you? This is a place of refuge for those with pasts they would rather forget.”
“It’s prophesied. The signs of the Unmaking. Saheli one who died by divine fire, the one who died by water, the one died by wind, and the one who died by earth. The last martyr, the last prophet. I don’t want anything to happen to the pious souls who reside here.”
“Neither do I,” Jhee said.
“As you love and worship the Makers, your duty under the law is clear. As well as to the pious souls who reside here. Can we be sure he won’t harm them?”
“Abbess, a statement from you will mitigate Dawn Wolf’s sentence. In the meantime, may I have your permission to have him brought to the gardens? It will ease his recovery.”
“He belongs in the Corrections Hall,” Sister Elkanah said. “It was designed for situations such as this.”
Jhee felt defeated.
“Justicar, if I may.” To Jhee’s surprise, Lady Bathsheba stepped from the shadows. “The abbey is located in a relief zone which places it under the Sanctuary statutes, am I correct?”
“Yes.” Jhee’s shoulders felt lighter. She repeated stronger, “Yes. One of the few instances in which the Imperium does not maintain total sovereignty. The communications blackout or state of emergency means jurisdiction over certain acts reverts to local authority. Since I did not draw my weapons and no weapons were drawn by others. With no one killed or seriously injured, this is an ecclesiastic matter. This puts the crime in the sole jurisdiction of the abbey, more specifically the abbess.”
They turned to Pyrmo. She squared her shoulders. “Then, I declare an apology and our forgiveness, constitute suffici
ent punishment.”
“I must protest, Pyrmo. Are you to be as lax as Saheli? Shirking off serious infractions. No wonder why dark forces have taken root.”
“Enough! I’ve made my decision,” Pyrmo said. Lady Bathsheba and Sister Serra nodded approval. Sister Elkanah glared. “However, after some time to collect himself via reflection and communion with the Makers, he is confined to quarters for the rest of his stay. Except for an hour a day, in which he may visit the Maker’s Shrine in the gardens.”
Sister Elkanah gave a grudging nod. Jhee turned to thank Lady Bathsheba only to see her slipping from the refectory. She checked her pockets and found a message. The abbess collected Sister Serra, and they spoke to Shep at length. Tears formed in his eyes. The Professed Shep had injured joined those around him. Her view of him was now blocked. Jhee stepped forward.
“Here, Justicar, drink this,” Bax said. He handed her a cup. She recognized the peachy smell of Tranquility Gold. She took a drink. Even watered down, the wine still tasted delicious.
Prospectives and staff had already started cleaning the mess. A growing pool of red liquid with bits of land meat on the ground caught her attention. The spilled contents of Shep’s porridge bowl mingled with it. Blood. Shep had eaten blood porridge.
A cheer went up through the hall. Jhee whirled on her heel. The Professed and Shep took turns, consoling each other. He smiled and wiped his eyes. He headed her way.
“One moment,” he said. He squeezed Jhee’s hands before continuing passed her.
The abbess led him to the front of the hall where she announced, “Our guest has something to say.”
“I would like to apologize to everyone for my disturbance, and I humbly ask your forgiveness in the Makers’ names.”
“I accept. Blessed be the Makers,” Pyrmo said. She clasped forearms with him and winced.
Another Professed, one he had attacked, followed suit. “Blessed be the Makers.”
After those he had injured had embraced him, a slow clap began. The clergy took up the applause. Jhee approached Shep, the abbess, and the horticulturist.