The Diminished

by Kaitlyn Sage Patterson

  Tears ran down his round cheeks. “Three years.” He sniffled.

  “Very good, Tobain. Now, I want you to drink this medicine. Will you do that for me?”

  Tobain nodded, and the girl next to him screamed behind her gag. His eyes went wide, but the glass was already pressed against his lips. He struggled against the strap that bound his head to the board, tried to press his lips tight together, but Curlin held his nose. When he opened his mouth to breathe, she poured the liquid down his throat. I watched, grinding my teeth, as his throat constricted and he swallowed. Curlin stuffed the gag back into his mouth.

  “Watch carefully, Vi,” Curlin said. “This is his fifth dose. You’ve already had two.”

  “What do you mean, I’ve had two?” My muscles tightened, and my hands clenched into fists. “Two of what?”

  “The records say you had one dose of the same medication I’ve just given this boy when you were back in Penby. I gave you another upstairs, and you had no idea. Watch and see how it works. See what five looks like.”

  The boy shook. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he shook violently. Horror and confusion boiled in my brain. I couldn’t watch this child die right in front of me.

  Just as I started forward, he stopped moving, and his eyes fluttered shut.

  Curlin put one hand up. “Wait. Watch. Unless, of course, you want the little girl to be next. Her name is Clarity, like your little sister. The same age, too. What a coincidence.”

  The boy’s eyes flew open, and he wrenched at his bonds with such ferocity that I worried he might break an arm or a leg. Gingerly, Curlin pulled the rag out of the boy’s mouth and backed away.

  Tobain cackled. The hysterical, maniacal sound swelled and echoed in the stone room. He locked eyes with me and stopped suddenly. In a cold, distant voice, he said, “I’ll wear your ears on a string around my neck. I’ll rip your toes off one by one. Your pretty, long fingers will make me good bracelets...”

  I sank to my knees as his rant continued. A vise closed around my chest. My thoughts swam, and I tasted the sweet echo of the juice Curlin had poured for me earlier.

  For the first time since I’d met Bo, I wanted to reach out for Pru. I’d known, all those years I’d spent talking to her, praying to her, that it was all just my imagination. Bo—the complicated, difficult reality of my twin—had driven Pru from my head until now. Tears welled in my eyes. She may’ve just been in my head, but I felt her loss deeply, and for the blink of an eye, I was as exposed as an oyster ripped from its shell, pearl-less and fragile.

  Clenching my jaw, I forced myself back into the small, dank room. There’d be time to mourn imaginary losses later.

  “Do you see, Vi?” Curlin asked. “Do you understand? It used to be just some of us that were lost to the grief. One in a hundred would survive the death of their twin, and one in five hundred would become violent. One in five hundred would become a dimmy. But now the temple has the power to choose. We control who the people fear. And when they are afraid, they turn to us. With fear comes faith, and with faith, power.” She smiled triumphantly. “The Suzerain have more power now than at any point in our history. They have people everywhere. In every town, in every house. They can command you to be dosed again at any time. You have to do as we say, or you’ll be next. You’ll be lost just like all those countless others.”

  Hand on the cool, stone floor, I heaved, wishing I could rid myself of the foul poison I’d swallowed earlier, but nothing came up.

  “Shall I show you with the girl? It’s important that you fully comprehend the lesson.”

  Though the room was spinning, I managed to shake my head.

  “I need you to tell me, Vi. What do you understand?”

  “You control the change,” I gasped, barely audible over Tobain’s rant. “You’re the ones who make us go bad,” I stammered, knowing that no one would ever believe me if I told them. “You dosed me. You poisoned me.”

  Curlin’s laugh swirled around me, filling my ears, my mouth, making the ground shake.

  “It was only a little. Not enough to do much. Not now. It has to build up, you see. But it’s not the first, and it certainly won’t be the last.”

  The room spun, and the boy’s rants grew dimmer as everything around me faded to black.

  * * *

  I woke up some time later to see Curlin’s disapproving glower hovering over me. I lay on a lumpy couch in the library. The glory of a fiery sunset streamed through small, slatted windows, painting the room in stripes of gold, orange, pink and crimson. The beauty of the late afternoon clashed so completely with the growing pit in my stomach that I wanted to curl into a ball and wait for the world to change.

  “She’s awake, Anchorite,” Curlin called.

  “Thank you, Curlin.” Anchorite Tafima glided over and sat in a chair opposite me. “Now, Curlin tells me that was quite a dramatic display down there, child. Do try to warn me if you feel faint again.”

  I stared at her, flabbergasted that she would show any concern for my welfare. But, naturally, it didn’t last.

  “While we were waiting for you to come around, I had a quick look at your records,” she said. “It seems that the anchorites in Alskad had other plans for you. Plans that you upset when you so brazenly wiled your way out of your punishment and took a contract with Mister Laroche.”

  My jaw clenched, and I thought of the women who’d raised me, of the trips I’d taken to see other dimmys with Anchorite Lugine, the hours I’d spent studying under Anchorite Sula’s watchful eye. I wondered what they’d been preparing me for. I’d imagined that they’d saved me out of the goodness of their hearts, but that clearly was not the case—they must’ve needed me for something.

  “Nevertheless, you’ve managed to place yourself in such a way that we can still make use of you. Shriven Curlin suggested you might be of use for a task we need done.”

  “I’m not going to help you!” I blurted. “What you did down there, what you’re doing... It’s horribly, horribly wrong. Unforgivable.”

  “You don’t have a choice,” Anchorite Tafima said with a sneer. “Dimmys are dangerous. They must be locked up. Wherever you hide, the Shriven will find you. You have neither the resources nor the knowledge to get very far. We have absolute power over you, and though you might be of use to us, we won’t hesitate to lock you up if you prove...difficult.”

  My mind reeled, trying to make sense of it all. When had I been drugged? As a child? Who’d done it? How? Before I could begin to answer my own questions, I felt something stronger than curiosity. Loss. Something had been taken from me. Just a nip and a nibble, but something, nonetheless. They’d altered my personality. They’d changed who I was meant to be and outright robbed countless others of their lives. And now, here I was on the edge of freedom, only to see it ripped away once more. Even if Bo managed to buy out my contract, the Shriven would find me.

  They would always find me.

  “What do you want from me?” I twisted my hands together in my lap, and made myself stop. I needed to be stone. I couldn’t afford to give up anything more to them.

  “It’s quite simple. Your employer means for you to serve as a maid to his lady wife. We need someone to watch her—someone inside her household. She is an amalgam, and therefore cannot be trusted. You will report any unusual activity to us, as well as her dreams.”

  “Her dreams?”

  “Yes.” The anchorite gave me a look that brokered no arguments.

  “Rayleane’s teeth! How could I possibly discover what she dreams about?”

  Curlin gave a derisive huff, but the anchorite only studied me. Calculating. Weighing. “You’re a clever girl. I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

  “I still haven’t agreed to help you,” I said stubbornly.

  “You don’t have a choice. If you choose not to cooperate, I will personally guarantee
that you will never see the sun again.”

  Curlin gave me a pointed look over the anchorite’s shoulder. I bit the inside of my cheek, but I couldn’t see a way around it. The anchorite was right. I didn’t have a choice.

  “Curlin, please go tell Mister Laroche that we are nearly finished here.”

  Curlin stalked out of the room, and the anchorite turned back to me.

  “Your reports are to be written in a legible hand, using lemon juice in place of ink between the lines of another letter. Maybe to a sweetheart, or some such nonsense. You will place one report each week in the blue birdhouse next to the pond at Plumleen. If you miss a report, you’ll be warned. After one warning, there will be consequences.” The anchorite adjusted her sleeves and laid two pious fingers on her brow. “Do not try to escape. We have people everywhere. You will be found.”

  My mouth went dry, and the backs of my arms prickled. Having grown up in the temple, I knew all too well how true that was. If the Suzerain wanted to find a person, there wasn’t anywhere on this earth they could go to hide. Their resources were nearly limitless, and the Shriven were nothing if not persistent. Curlin would fit in well here.

  “Do you understand your instructions clearly, Vi?”

  I nodded, and as she pursed her lips, I anticipated her. “I’m sorry. Yes, ma’am. I understand. When is my first report due?”

  Curlin peeked her head into the room. “Anchorite, may we come in?”

  She entered without waiting for a reply, followed by Anchorite Mathille and Phineas. I glowered at Curlin, who smiled sweetly at me. Phineas clapped me on the back, all humor and good cheer.

  “Was it an educational visit for you, Vi? I’ve come away with a whole new sense of piety. May even build a haven hall at the estate. What do you say to that?”

  “Wonderful idea, sir,” I gritted, my back stinging where his hand had smacked me.

  “We should be going, then,” he said. “If you’ll excuse us, I’d like to be back for supper.”

  I trailed after him. Our horses waited in the courtyard, strangely placid. We rode away in silence, and Phineas’s false joviality disappeared as soon as we were out of sight of the looming iron gates. My thoughts spun round and round, searching for a way out of all the darkness surrounding me.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  BO

  When I entered the dining room, a blush crept up my neck and spread across my cheeks. Next to Aunt Ephemella, whose formal blouse and trousers shone with gold embroidery, I was a veritable ragamuffin in my shirtsleeves and cleanest trousers. I could’ve at least put on a waistcoat and jacket, even in this damnable heat.

  I’d given her the advantage, and she knew it. I would have to be extraordinarily careful about what I said over dinner.

  “My apologies, Aunt. I didn’t realize we were dressing for dinner. Please go ahead without me while I change.”

  She laughed, a sound that bubbled like sparkling wine. “No, no, no. Don’t go, dear. Oh, I’d somehow forgotten your sweet blushes. Do sit down.”

  “If you’re sure you don’t mind.” It was clear she’d meant to throw me off balance.

  She waved my words away and took a seat at the head of the long table, gesturing for me to sit next to her. As a servant poured water and wine, Aunt Ephemella said, “I’m such a silly thing. I haven’t properly expressed my condolences for your loss. To lose both your mother and your cousins in the space of a week... You must be in shock.”

  The real shock had been learning that so much of what I knew of my history was a lie, but I couldn’t say that, so I said simply, “Thank you, Aunt Ephemella. That’s very kind.”

  “I hope your tutors have been a comfort to you.” She took a sip of her wine as a servant laid the soup plate on the table before her. “I’m surprised they didn’t accompany you.”

  I waited for the servant to retreat back into the corner, and dipped out a spoonful of the soup. “This is divine, Aunt. My compliments to your cook.” I took another bite before answering her remark about my tutors. “Thamina and Birger were so supportive through the trial of the last month, so I wanted to give them some time with their family while I traveled. I have come of age, after all.”

  “You’re lucky to have found a companion so loyal in such a short time in the colonies. Do your tutors know you’ve hired a guide?”

  “As I said, my tutors are spending time with their family. I’ve chosen not to bother them with the details of my journey,” I said, waving a hand dismissively. “As for Swinton, he ought to be loyal, given what I pay him.” I thought of Hoss’s expensive rifle and the way he’d talked about my aunt. Ephemella was no stranger to buying a person’s loyalty, and my next veiled insult might just put her at enough ease to drop the subject. “But you must know how that is, I’m sure.”

  Her look told me I’d made my point. We made polite conversation as we finished our soup. When the servant whisked out of the room with our plates, I said, “The wine is very good. Is it Denorian?”

  Aunt Ephemella arched an eyebrow at me. “Thinking of visiting Denor on your holiday, as well?”

  “Not this time, Aunt. Though I’ve heard it’s lovely in the summer.”

  “Perhaps I can convince you to stay with me for a time? It does get so lonely here.”

  I coughed. I needed to leave in the morning, but the last thing I could tell my aunt was the truth about why. “I wish that I had more time, but I have leagues of traveling to do yet, and the Queen will become impatient if I stay away too long.”

  Aunt Ephemella pounced on the subject of Runa. “What has the Queen told you of her plans for your marriage? It would be a shame to break the family alliance. Perhaps one of my daughters...”

  Though I’d anticipated the question, the blunt way she addressed it surprised me, and I nearly choked on my sip of wine. I coughed, drained my glass of water and, finally collected, smiled sheepishly at my aunt. The servant appeared with the fish course and refilled our glasses. I cleared my throat and said, “The Queen has not discussed a new match with me. There hasn’t been much time...since...” I trailed off, staring at my plate.

  She reached out and patted my hand. “I’m surprised Queen Runa allowed you to travel alone, given her plans for the succession.”

  I simpered, hoping that my mawkish behavior wasn’t too absurd. “I was so wrapped up in my grief, I just wanted to get away. When I saw the opportunity... Well, I took it. The Queen didn’t seem to mind too awfully much. I’d heard that Lisette traveled throughout the empire when she came of age, and I thought the idea was marvelous.”

  Aunt Ephemella smiled at me, and I was grateful that Limina wasn’t at home. She’d always seen right through my playacting. “She did visit, not five years ago. I hosted her myself.”

  “Oh, I would so love to know what her itinerary was while she was here. I couldn’t possibly return without having outdone her.” I leaned in conspiratorially. “For the sake of the stories, you know.”

  “Of course.” She paused while the servant laid slices of roast lamb alongside heaps of creamed corn and dark, vinegary greens on the china plates before us. “I believe I have a copy in the office. I’ll make sure to find it for you in the morning.”

  By the time dessert was served, I had exhausted myself by nattering on about fashion and other meaningless nonsense. But at least Aunt Ephemella seemed to believe I was a witless ninny with no idea that she was telling me lies.

  * * *

  When my soft knock at Swinton’s door went unanswered, I slipped into the room that had been prepared for me next to his and undressed. I flicked the solar lamps off and, head still swimming from the myriad revelations of the day, opened a window and curled up in a chair beneath it. Stars shone bright in an unclouded sky, the droning buzz of insects filled the air and the heady perfume of the philomenas drifted in on the breeze. I reveled in the quiet noise of the jun
gle, willing my own thoughts to still.

  My mind was a cacophonous tangle of secrets and treachery, of anchorites and poison, of perfumers killed by their own creations. Ephemella’s assumption that Rylain had been the one responsible for the accident at the mill was a burr I couldn’t shake, but there was nothing to be done about it while I was still in Ilor. I toyed with the cuff on my wrist, remembering my vow to Runa, to Alskad. I’d promised to serve the empire, to be its conscience. Though the circumstances that had led to that vow may have been shrouded in lies, I’d made those promises with a clear head and honest—if reluctant—intent. And now, here in this wild colony, I’d stumbled across a cause I was bound to serve. A mystery I was compelled to unravel.

  Just as soon as my sister was freed.

  My body was slow and heavy with sleep and my eyelids had begun to droop when I heard voices outside my window. I went to lower the sash, but then I recognized the slow, tenor drawl of Hoss’s voice, clipped short by his sister.

  “Boss said she wanted them dead by morning, so that’s what we’ll do. Or don’t you like having a roof over your head and food to eat?”

  “It ain’t that. I just... They seem like nice boys. That Swinton fellow knows our kin.”

  “Then take comfort in the fact that he’ll have folk to talk to in hell. Come on.”

  I strained to hear more, suddenly wide awake, mind racing, but the voices trailed off into the dark night. Of course Ephemella would want me dead. With Penelope gone, there was nothing to tie me—or my money—to her anymore. Since I was unmarried and uninterested in her own daughters, and her sister’s husband my closest living relative, she’d assume that everything I had would go to them at my death. I wondered briefly if she’d always been so ruthless, but of course she must have been. The nobility always sought power by any means necessary. They were knife-edged brutality dressed in silk.

  I struggled into my clothes as fast as I could manage and stuffed my boots into my saddlebags, not wanting my footsteps to be heard in the quiet house. Ear to the door, I listened for movement in the hallway. I had to get Swinton out of the house before Hoss and Clem made it upstairs. I had no weapons, and my training in hand-to-hand combat had been summarily abandoned when, as a ten-year-old, I not only showed no aptitude for the craft, but also refused to take my tutor seriously. I hadn’t thought it a skill I would ever use.