by R. M Garino
“Aye,” he said. “That it is.”
“Why does it happen?” Arielle said.
“Well,” Angus said, scrunching up his face and searching the ceiling for an answer, “I think our sin’dels react to the presence of the other.”
“That’s fairly obvious,” she said.
“Oh ho, so it’s the full explanation you want?”
She arched her eyebrows as if she were issuing a challenge.
“Very well. Here goes. Given: the flows that comprise our very selves, our souls, if you will, have an instinctual reaction to, and a recognition of, the other. Hypothesis: this could be happening at a particular level, meaning the level wherein energy moves in particles, as opposed to waves. If that’s the case, then I’d surmise that this is a reaction of the particular matter as it intermingles. Alternate hypothesis: if, however, this is occurring on a spectral level, then I’d postulate that the wavelengths we emit are ‘in tune,’ or resonating with the unique frequency emitted by the other. Whichever hypothesis is correct has yet to be determined, and would require extensive testing.”
He flourished as he finished his recitation. “Impressed?” he said. “I also dress myself.”
“So how does that explain what happened when Trenton performed the Caul on me?”
Angus smiled, anticipating the question.
“I sensed a silver knot in the back of my mind to which everything was flowing,” he said. “And you?”
“The same, except it was coming from the silver knot.”
“Could you hear someone speaking?”
“By ‘someone’ I assume you mean you? Almost. It was more of a buzzing. But I could tell what you were feeling. You were calm, steady, and you were sending the energy along willingly.”
“And you were terrified,” he said, “on the verge of panic, but determined to hang on. What does that tell you?”
“We were the knot to the other,” Arielle said. “But how were we able to connect?”
“Remember our light show when you arrived?”
“I remember seeing you,” she said, “and I remember my sin’del having a reaction. I don’t remember it the way everyone else does. For me, it felt like seconds, but I’m told it was much longer. I remember the story of it more than the event.”
“That’s exactly how I remember it,” he said. “What if our particles started mingling, or our wavelengths were synchronizing, at that point? You’ve been at the Gates for months now. What if, in all that time, we somehow harmonized?”
“Harmonized to the point where I hear you in my head?” Arielle said. “Where I feel what you feel? Isn’t that a unity? That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”
“But there are theories to back it up,” Angus said. “Annii postulated that all souls are actually one and the same, and their interaction is what we call the Creator. Her math was on point, to where it actually fits within one of the four voids of the orotund structure. And then there’s Sigrid, who built on Lustig’s concept of the Original Soul to predict the birth of a True Soul, but that was just before his break down . . . I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”
“I see you’ve given this some thought,” Arielle said, restraining her mirth.
“Just fifteen or sixteen levels of causality,” he said. He caught the term he’d just used, and closed his eyes as he shook his head. “Forget I said that. Once I get started I forget where I am and just start blathering.”
“Can I ask you something?”
He peeked at her, and from the way he’d been speaking, she could all but predict the remark he was about to make. She held up her free hand to forestall and warn him. If he commented, she’d smack the statement from his mouth.
“Why do you get in trouble so much?” she said, once she was sure he’d behave. “You’re obviously smart. Really smart. And don’t you dare blame your House. Kal’Parev is small, but well respected. You, however, have this reputation for mischief, this disregard for authority that drives everyone crazy.”
“I don’t like rules,” Angus said with a shrug, his flippant tone mirrored by his wave. “I’m a rebel. What can I say?”
When he saw the smile fade from her face, he dropped the facetious tone. “You’re being serious, aren’t you,” he said. “Sorry. I play too much. Why do you ask?”
“Because I’m trying to establish myself here,” she said, indicating the entirety of the Gates complex with a wave. “You may not think much of all this, but to me, it’s important. I want to do well here. I want to be a Mala’kar one day. If this is going to go anywhere between us, I think it’s something we need to work out.”
“Makes sense,” he said with a huge smile blossoming on his face. “You're part of a Fel’Mekrin Pride, after all.”
“And what does my Pride have to do with anything?” she said, pulling away. “I am a Rhen’val, but my father was born a Fel’Mekrin. That makes me a Fel’Mekrin, too. Do you really want to go there?”
“No. It’s nothing,” he said, appearing to regret his choice of words. “Well, you know, they tend to be a little . . . intense.”
Arielle stared at him, her arms crossed over her chest.
Angus’ conspiratorial smile returned, though threads of jealousy wove through his sin’del.
“Tell me about Logan.”
Arielle stopped breathing, and let her arms fall to her sides. A flash of irritation swelled within her. Angus took her hands back as soon as he saw it. Their sin’dels heaved at the contact, and the thrilling charge raced through her. Her anger was forgotten in the moment.
“Don’t get mad,” he said. “I’m just curious.”
Arielle read his sincerity. She let go of him.
“You first,” she said. “Tell me why you go out of your way to get into trouble, and I’ll tell you about Logan.”
“Deal!”
“I’m waiting.”
“So am I,” he said.
She arched an eyebrow at him.
“Me and trouble. Right.”
Angus walked to her desk. He ran his fingers over the title of a book, and moved it to one side, clearing a space. “So, you know I didn’t train at the Vaults.”
“I think I would’ve noticed if you had.”
He blushed at the comment.
“I had the run of Reven Marthal,” he said. “I was always curious, always bored, and always looking for something I couldn’t identify. And I went pretty much wherever I wanted. I did so well at my studies that I was forgiven a lot of things that should have gotten my head handed to me. There really wasn’t anyone my age, so I had to entertain myself. I’ve always been like this, I guess. Do you remember how much trouble we got into when we were little?”
“I remember being at fault as often as you.” Arielle moved closer as he spoke, and leaned against the desk next to him.
“Really? I remember being to blame for most of it.”
“I believe you took the blame for most of it,” Arielle said, laughing. “Even when it was obvious I was the culprit. Do you remember the pantry? I’m the one with the jam all over my face, and you’re standing there telling all who would listen about how you decided to climb to the top?”
“True, but I’m the one who had the idea to stage a race between the dogs and chickens. Do you remember all the feathers?”
“And the adventuring on the clothes lines?”
“And let’s not forget the bear hunt.”
They brought their heads together as they laughed, bringing to light memories that neither had dwelt on in centuries.
“How much do you remember?” Arielle said, her head resting on his shoulder.
“All of it,” Angus said “Always have.”
“Then why did I forget?”
“Maybe you made yourself,” Angus said. “I’m sure you didn’t want to.”
“I didn’t,” Arielle said. “It just seemed like the older I got, the more things got in the way. Everyone had expectations of me, and I couldn’t let them down. Soon
, all I knew about myself was what other people wanted me to be.”
“Then I’m glad you finally remembered.” Angus squeezed her hand. “I knew of this fellow with that same problem. His name was Lucien, I think.”
“I know him.”
“Of course you do. He’s Fel’Mekrin.”
“We’re going to have to have a long conversation about your interpretation of my affiliation with that House.”
“Interrupting.”
“Maybe it won’t be that long, after all.”
“He was an Elc’atar,” Angus said, still grinning from her last comment. “Someone really important, I guess. One day, he just got up and left. Walked away from everything and everyone.”
“I know the story, and him,” Arielle said. “He’s Gwen and Logan’s father. His departure ripped them apart. Gwen doesn’t talk about him much anymore. She’s ashamed of him.”
“What do they have to be ashamed about?”
“He walked away from his family,” Arielle said. “He was weak. He was the head of the Areth’kon’s largest House, and couldn’t handle the pressure.”
“I didn’t know about all that,” Angus said. “But Mother saw him off, and I kind of tagged along. I remember him telling her that he wanted to live his own life, not the one others planned for him. Always sounded like good advice to me.”
“What was the first thing you did with that good advice?”
“I believe I stole a pie from the kitchens,” he said. “I got caught.”
“Wouldn’t that take some of the romance away?”
“You’d think it would,” he said. “But it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“How often do you use that phrase?”
“More often than I should, I suppose,” he said.
“They talk about your pranks even in my barracks.”
“Didn’t realize I was famous.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
“It never is, unfortunately.”
“Does the chain of command mean nothing to you?”
“Now you sound like my father, berating me for picking on Elc’atar.”
“We heard about what you did to Bowler.”
Angus shrugged. “He deserved it. He’s a dick.”
“He’s Elc’atar,” Arielle said. “They’re all dicks.”
“And therein lies the problem.” Angus raised one finger to make his point. “They all act like that.”
“I don’t understand,” Arielle said. “They’re Elc’atar. They’ve more than earned the right to a little arrogance.”
Angus sighed in exasperation, rubbing his mouth. His sin’del showed his growing irritation, but also that he was struggling to explain what was for him a solid truth. She sensed his need to pace, to move, so she sat on her bed, drawing her feet up under her.
“Is that what we aspire to?” he said. “Being petty bullies who inflict as much pain as we can, just because we can? Or better yet, to prove some juvenile point, or settle a score? Is that what it means to be of the guard?”
She had never had that particular question poised to her. They were who they were. They acted the way they acted, and were above reproach. She had never thought to question their behavior. To be honest, she had been raised not to do so. The very question made her uncomfortable. She was about to reply, to defend the institution, if not the individual members. But Angus was so sincere, his growing angst so poignant that she refrained.
What was it Trenton had said to her? Have you ever considered what it meant to become a weapon? She had never considered that question either, but the Master had made it clear that she should. And now, here was Angus posing a similar question about her assumptions.
“What are you getting at?” she said.
“That they should be something more than just petty tyrants,” he said. He pushed himself away from the desk and sat down beside her. “They should be grander; they should possess a nobility of purpose, a certain grandeur that comes from the ideals they uphold. But none of them aspire to do so. They’ve no noble ideal save their own selves and how great they are. They are callous and indifferent. That is not what they’re supposed to be.”
“You’re talking about the legends of El’Cain and his guard?”
“Exactly!” he said. “They held Golan’s Pass for two days against the Apostate’s armies, all the while knowing they’d die. They gave their lives to buy time for others to flee. They bloodied their enemies to the point where the armies of the Sur hesitated entering the pass even after they fell. That was not the action of tyrants or bullies. That was the action of heroes, who believed that there was something greater than themselves, something worth dying for. Today’s Elc’atar do not deserve to use his name.”
Arielle nodded, the movement slow and contemplative. His reaction made sense, but there was something more, something she was not seeing. There had to be a reason for such vehemence on his part.
“I grew up hearing the stories about El’Cain and his guards,” Angus said. “Not just about their end, but about their lives as well. Their last days were spectacular, but the way they lived was inspired.
“I wasn’t surrounded by them in Reven Marthal. They were there, but I had no real contact with them besides my father and a few of his Pride who trained me. I only had the stories and journals I read to tell me who they were. They lived their lives in service to others. They were the strength for those who could not defend themselves. They were the shield against disaster, throwing themselves into harm’s way again and again. The true Elc’atar served a purpose higher than their own egos. When I came of age and rejected my family’s dispensation, I came to the Gates. I wanted to be just like them. But I was disgusted with what I saw.”
And then the missing piece dawned on her. It was obvious, and she berated herself in silence for not seeing it sooner.
“El’Cain was a Tu’renthien,” she said. “He was your grandmother’s father.”
Angus frowned, as if surprised that she would question the obvious.
It was his turn for a realization at the damage time had wrought on their relationship, which he announced with a drawn-out “Oh! It has been a while, hasn’t it?” he said.
It had indeed been a long time since she’d shared his company.
“Sorry,” he said. “I forgot how long it’s been. It seems like no time has lapsed.”
“In the grander scheme of things, not much has,” Arielle said. She patted his hand in a show of comfort. They sat gazing at each other, their sin’dels painted the same pinkish hue.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
So Ask
“Your turn,” Angus said. “What’s with you and Logan?”
Arielle rolled her eyes.
“Deal’s a deal, darlin’,” he said. “Out with it.”
Arielle raised her chin with a haughty cast. Angus’ smirk deepened, until he appeared to be on the verge of bursting with laughter. She released her breath and let her chin fall.
“I was sort of hoping you’d welch on your part,” she said, glancing at him through her lashes.
Angus was shaking his head, making a show of not looking at her.
“Nope,” he said, “That’s not gonna work. Not a chance. I’m Kal’Parev. We always keep our word. I’d heard the same about Rhen’val.”
The innuendo stung, and Arielle shifted away with an indignant sniff. Angus poked her shoulder, pushing her to the side. She rubbed at the prickly sensation where he’d touched her and sighed. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
Angus raised his eyebrows. “Still waiting, darlin’. Getting a little nervous now . . .”
“Okay,” she said waving. “Fine. I tried to spare you this. Okay? Just remember that.”
“My thanks for your concern.” Angus interlaced his fingers behind his head. “And you’re still stalling.”
Arielle exhaled sharply.
“Technically,” she said, “there’s nothing going on with Logan and I. We were
together for a bit, but we no longer are. Is that enough?”
“Not by a long shot. That only answers one of my many questions.”
“Such as?”
Angus sat forward. “Such as, how serious? Everyone talks as if the two of you are all but wed.”
Arielle leapt off the bed. She paced off several steps, walked back, spun, and walked again.
“All but married,” she said as she paced. “It never stops. Not for a moment!”
“Seems I smacked a nerve with a hammer. It’s a specialty of mine. A pity the name is already taken.”
Arielle was furious, and she glared at him.
“This was why you ripped into the Ninth, wasn’t it?”
His comment took a moment to penetrate her ire. When it did, her jaw slackened as her mouth dropped open. Her fists folded open in her surprise.
“People have been talking since you arrived,” he said. “Granddaughter of the Commandant, daughter of the Field Marshals, younger sister of the most popular Mala’kar in recent memory. Those are some high expectations to live up to.”
“Get your boots off my bed!” Arielle said.
Angus threw his legs over the edge of the mattress, stood up and walked over to her.
“I know Padric,” he said. “He’s sort of like a friend. He’s an ass, but I know how he is. If you called him out inside his own barracks, he must have stepped way out of line.”
“How do you know I was the cause?”
“Simple deduction,” Angus said with an offhanded shrug and a wave.
“This is the point where you explain yourself very, very carefully,” Arielle said, her eyes narrowing as she tried to ignore his beautiful smile.
“People talk and, yes, this is all hearsay, so you’ll have to forgive any inaccuracies,” he said. “Let’s take your friend Gwendolyn for starters. She’s the House’s new darling. She may be trying to mark her territory, but her place is assured. There’s nothing Padric could have done to warrant this from her. Then there’s Nessah. She’s too unsure of herself. If they had said or done something to her, she’d have kept it to herself. Let’s take Denuelle. She’s brash and bold, the kind to take a swing as soon as an insult was offered. Caradoc is supposedly so clairvoyant that he goes out of his way to avoid everyone. Darien is a brute, and much like Denuelle, more likely to take a swing then and there. Now we get to your buddy Ba’ril. Rigid, perfectionist, follows the rules to the point of absurdity. He would never act without prior authorization. That leaves you. What could my somewhat pal Padric have said to you that would have sent you off like there was a blood feud on?”