“If we discount us and the Benish…” I searched through my hazy memory. Both names had been familiar. “One was Tethan, of the Houses of Strength and Power.”
“So an Overwhelm,” Gompt said. We walked up a staircase, passing a Lobath talking with another Festuour in hushed tones. Gompt watched the one of her species as we passed, but the Festuour didn’t notice her.
“What are their strengths?” I asked. I hadn’t seen an Overwhelm in action.
“Strength and Power give some ability to push others to do what they want, and to pry objects apart into components,” Gompt said. “If anyone could take apart the geas, an Overwhelm could. Sounds fishy to me.”
I had to admit my friend was right, but my memory of Tethan was of a small, frail Sathssn. “Have you seen her recently?”
Gompt shrugged. “I went up to her room to ask her a question once about the System Beasts responding to chemical signals.”
“I doubt she’s murdered more than a hot meal in cycles,” I said.
“Still prudent to follow every lead, and this is all we have right now,” Gompt said. The maji who lived here would have apartments in their primary House back in the Imperium, but I had found most in the Society preferred the obscurity of Poler, desiring to follow their own studies without interruption, or any distracting ethical questions.
We found Tethan on the third level, tucked into a corner of the mansion. The sprawling house was big enough for new members to get lost in. I’d lost my way frequently in my first few ten-days.
I knocked on the red painted door of the majus’ room. Gompt and I traded glances at the chorus of thumps and complaints coming from inside. There was another clatter, as if a stack of plates had fallen to the floor.
“Maybe later?” Gompt suggested, and I almost stepped away when the doorknob rattled.
The red painted wood opened a crack and a slitted red and yellow eye, surrounded by gray-green scales peeked out.
“Yes? You are here about the pipes?”
“Ah—Majus Tethan?” I asked, somewhat at a loss.
“Yes. That is me. I have been sending messages about the pipes for ten-days now. You, come in.”
The door rattled closed, and Gompt frowned at the sounds of metal latches being unfastened. Then the door opened again, showing an ancient Sathssn, gray of scale and shaky, with white wisps of hair floating around her head. I was nearly as surprised at her age as I was at the lack of coverings. Tethan wore no cowl, had on short sleeves, and her tunic was dark blue—something I had never seen on a Sathssn.
“I thought they all wore black?” Gompt whispered. Tethan peered at us as if she had heard something, then shook her head and gestured with a scaled hand for us to come in. A short black skirt covered the majus only halfway down her legs, and below she wore open sandals rather than the more common enclosed boots.
We followed the old Sathssn inside and Tethan hobbled around us to close and latch the door again.
“Now, my pipes, they have been squeaking for months, but Moortlin refuses to send anyone up here.” Tethan shuffled around to look at us, then away, leading us farther into the apartment. “At least until now.”
The room was uncomfortably warm, and I pulled at the collar of my shirt as Gompt opened her mouth in a pant. Books were stacked everywhere, with trinkets, statues, and little plates piled on top as if the books were plinths. It was a collection of plates that had tumbled to the floor by the door.
Something squawked by my foot and I hastily looked down.
“Don’t worry about Scampers. Him, he complains all the time,” Tethan said. A scaled creature with six legs rubbed against me, leaving a white smear on my best pants. “Especially right now, as he is molting.”
I shook off the thing and glared at Gompt, whose tongue lolled in silent Festuour laughter.
“The sound, it is right back here.” Tethan waved a wizened arm, and I could barely stop myself from staring at the loose scaly skin.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen—or want to see again—so much bare Sathssn flesh.
She knocked at a wall and I jumped at a chittering whine that grew louder, vanishing to a shriek. It sounded almost organic, but I had heard all sorts of sounds from these old walls.
“We—we wanted to ask a few questions,” I attempted, but Tethan was shuffling along, not paying any attention.
“The pipes, they run along here.” She traced a finger along the wall. “Nothing in the Symphony of Strength, but me, I hear a repeating arpeggio in the melody of Power.” She looked to me and I looked to Gompt, who shrugged—neither of us could hear the House of Power.
“What about the House of Potential?” I suggested. There might be an overlap. Gompt sighed, but her blue eyes took on a faraway look, even as I tuned into the music that echoed though my head.
“Yes, I hear it,” I said. “There’s a chord progression like something—”
“Something blocked. Energy is building,” Gompt said.
I nodded. The rhythm was natural, like that of a wind tunnel. What did those pipes transmit? Not fluid. Maybe they heated the upstairs. If so, then Tethan must have requested her vents opened all the way for the apartment to be so warm.
Gompt walked down the hall, knocking on the wall. I took the chance to corner the old majus.
“What do you work on?” I asked.
“Oh this and that,” Tethan shrugged. “Now, not so much as before. But twenty cycles past, I was making some of the best psychotropic chemicals available. The remedies, the Assembly decided they were too dangerous, even for those who needed them, so here I sit.” She spread scaled hands to the messy apartment.
Mind altering chemicals? My thoughts raced. Like something that could make a speaker cut his own throat? “Can you tell me where you’ve been the last several days?” I asked.
“What now?” Tethan cupped a hand around one earhole. The wattle of scales under her chin wobbled as she did.
I repeated myself louder. “Have you been out of the Society mansion in the past few days?”
“Oh, Great Forms no.” Tethan shook her head, mouth slightly open. “My rooms, I don’t leave them. They bring my dinners here. Who would feed Scampers while I was gone?”
I looked back to find the little beast following me, sniffing at my pant leg. The majus’ words and the state of the apartment triggered a connection in my mind. The plate by the door probably contained some of her breakfast. If so, she would have been here eating about the time the Speaker was murdered.
“Found it!” Gompt called from the other room, and we both went to her. My colleague was holding a glistening orb nearly the size of her hairy paw. “This was stuck in the pipe. The cover was loose.”
I looked at Tethan, then down at Scampers. “I think your pet may be a female,” I suggested.
“Naughty Scampers!” Tethan shook a finger at the beast, who whined, then chuffed at her sandal. “Yes, yes, the egg, we will put it somewhere safe. I wondered where you went that time you got out.”
Gompt gave the Tethan the egg and followed my crooked finger back to the entrance of the apartment. We left the Sathssn cooing to her pet and the thing’s offspring, but before leaving her front room, I ran my finger around the topmost plate in the fallen pile by the door. I listened to the harmony between Healing and Potential, letting the Symphony guide my sense of time. It confirmed my suspicions.
Outside, Gompt blew out a breath. “Hot enough to cook an egg in there, not just hatch one.”
“At least we can mark one name off,” I said.
“We may have fixed her pipes, but we’re no closer,” Gompt protested. “Tethan’s old, but she could still have broken the geas and sent a list of names to the Speaker. You should have seen the set of chemicals and beakers in her bathroom.”
I shook my head. “She said she hadn’t been out of the apartment in days. All those little plates? They’re the remains of old meals, sent up from the kitchen. I think
Tethan is a shut-in. She could have done it, possibly, but until there’s something more concrete, I think we should search elsewhere.”
“I suppose she’d be terrified of the Society closing down,” Gompt said. “Then there’s Scampers, and Scamper’s egg.” She let out a sigh. “You’re right. Any more names?”
I thought back. “Plithin A’Tyf. A Lobath belonging to the Houses of Communication and Healing.”
“A Psychiatrist,” Gompt said. “There’s some definite potential to mess with how a mind’s affected by the geas.” We turned down another corridor.
Are there any combinations of houses that don’t have a way that might undermine the geas?
“Isn’t he the one that made the speech at the last big Society symposium where members shared their inventions?” Gompt asked. “There were more members than I’ve seen in one place before.”
I rolled my eyes. “On the subject of ‘Cooperation within the bounds of the Society’? It sounded like generic noise. Uninspired. I guess belonging to the House of Communication doesn’t guarantee good oration.” We stumped down a set of stairs.
“We still need to visit him,” Gompt said. “You know, just to make sure he isn’t secretly plotting to overthrow the Nether.”
“If he isn’t, then we’re back to the beginning,” I said. “Speaker Thurapo isn’t getting less dead, and the list of names isn’t getting less lost.” I looked down at my chronograph. All this traipsing around was wasting time, though I wasn’t sure what else I could do. If the Society was shut down, where would I go? Technically, I had access to an apartment in the House of Potential, but everything I knew was in Poler, including what remained of the home where I grew up.
All this is assuming the two-house maji aren’t put on trial once the records hidden in this mansion get out.
Majus A’Tyf was on the second level, near the front of the mansion. I straightened my coat, now some of the sweat from Tethan’s apartment had dried, and we placed ourselves in front of a white door with a granite lintel.
This time Gompt knocked, and we heard a conversation cut off before someone opened the door.
Plithin A’Tyf, was short even for a Lobath, in a maroon jumpsuit, his head-tentacles wrapped up in a neat bun. He stared back with wide, surprised eyes, though that was normal for his species.
“Yes? Can I help? You two are from the workshop, aren’t you? With all the new Systems? What can I do for you?” His voice was low and bubbly.
“We have a few questions—” Gompt began, but the Lobath cut him off.
“And I have answers. I remember when all the new members of the Society used to come to me. ‘Unity,’ I’d tell them. The Society must be a cohesive unit. Together we can go far.” He stepped back. “Come on in. Meet my spouses. Always a pleasure to meet the new folk around here.”
“Athera, Mieru—we have guests,” he called out, and I raised a hand to stop him, but too late. Gompt and I followed, stuck in his wake.
Oh well.
Where Tethan’s quarters had been warm and close, these rooms were cool and distinguished, vases on stands and artwork on the walls. Athera was taller than her husband, but a little shorter than Mieru—the wari spouse, who was of the third Lobath gender. Cups of fishy-smelling tea sat on a little table next to bowls of mushroom paste, and it was obvious we had disturbed them while they were relaxing.
“You want something to eat? We have plenty.”
Refusing was futile, and we soon had our own bowls, with stiff mushroom caps to scoop out the contents. We learned neither of Plithin’s spouses were maji, though they had lived in the Society for cycles.
“We accompany him to all the major functions,” Mieru told us, patting hir husband’s hand. I don’t know what he would do without us.” Athera nodded along.
Plithin laughed good naturedly. “Now what did you young ones want to ask me about? Some philosophical question about the Symphony, I suppose? That’s what it usually is. You two must be about my daughter’s age. She’s not a majus, of course. Out at university in the Imperium. The best money can buy for our girl!”
Now Athera patted his hand. “Let them ask,” she chided.
“Certainly! Ask away! Don’t be afraid to come to your elders with any problems you have.”
“Majus A’Tyf,” I said, in a desperate attempt to stop him before he trampled all over our words. “We have some disturbing news. I recently found evidence of a list with names of our members and Society titles, in a speaker’s office. We are trying to discover how it happened.”
Plithin puffed up like an angry squid. “As well you should! My spouses and I are well known to the higher societies in the Imperium, and if information about the Society got out—”
“This isn’t about those volunteers you requested last month, is it?” Athera asked, and Plithin deflated.
“I don’t…think so. They were all, er…compensated for the tests we ran.” He turned back to us. “The geas has always been sufficient for me and my spouses to avoid any unfortunate—lapses, even when I’ve maybe had a few too many. That infuriating tune is quite enough to break anyone’s concentration, even before it gets nasty. Surely the Society is safe?”
“Your name specifically was on a list Mandamon found,” Gompt said. “And the Speaker who held it was found with his throat cut.” The majus’ spouses stared in horror. “We think it may be an attempt to expose the Society, and rouse public opinion against us.”
“Oh.” Plithin was quiet for a moment. “Oh, I see. No that would not be good at all.” He stared at us with large silvery eyes. “Our friends in the Imperium know my spouses and I, yes, but not about the Society. They think we live in a nice house in Poler, not—” he trailed off, waving a long-fingered hand at their home. “You say my name was on this list? Any idea why?”
“That’s what we were planning to ask you,” I said. “Are you familiar with Speaker Thurapo? He was the one killed.”
Mieru clapped a hand over hir mouth, stifling a gasp. Plithin looked to his mate. “Zie knows the Speaker, but only socially. I have never met him myself. How do you know my name was connected to the Society? We are all very careful with any correspondence we send, even with the geas’ warning melody.”
I briefly outlined the murder scene I found, and the impression of the paper I had found in the Symphony.
“Tracing it with the House of Healing—very clever,” Plithin said. “I have done similar things in my time. I would love to discuss the methods you used. Did you have to change any chords, or merely listen? You hear the House of Potential too? The harmony between the houses would—” He waved Athera off. “Yes, yes, I know I am straying. I may have a moment to indulge my curiosity, even in the face of this dark news. It is the right of philosophers everywhere.”
I kept my eyes firmly forward, though I desperately wanted to roll them at the Lobath’s words. I had met other maji like this—who thought because they could hear the Symphony they could expound on theories of the universe better than regular people.
“We will leave you to your contemplation, majus,” I began, “if you can tell us where you were yesterday night or this morning?” It was late in the afternoon by this point and I was despairing of discovering any useful information today.
The list is getting farther away.
“We were here,” Athera said. “Both Mieru and I can corroborate that.” The wari Lobath nodded hir head.
“And you have sent no correspondence in the last few days that could have given away this information?” I was convinced by this point, but felt I should ask.
“Certainly not.” Plithin drew himself up. “If I find the miscreant who did so, I’ll come to you directly. I cannot abide one who would undermine the Society and what I have with my family.”
I rose, and Gompt rose with me. “Thanks for your time, majus,” she said. “We’ll let you know as soon as we hear anything.”
“I should hope so,” the majus said,
leading us to the door. “The life I have built here is dear. We raised our daughter in this home. Please find whoever did this and stop them.” He showed us into the hall. “Unity. It’s what the Society needs, at this point more than any other. Stay safe, young ones.”
Gompt and I walked down the front hallway of the mansion in silence.
“He can’t have had anything to do with this,” Gompt finally said. “Not with so much to lose if the Society falls.”
“The daughter?” I suggested, with little conviction.
“Possible she could rebel against her parents,” Gompt said, “but there’s still the problem of the geas. I feel like the culprit must be a majus.”
“I agree,” I acknowledged with a tip of my head. “Then we are back where we started. There’s no connection between the names, save ours. All six houses of the maji are represented—Strength, Communication, Power, Grace, Healing, and Potential. Who else can we go to?”
We turned into the east wing of the mansion. “Aegrino should be back,” Gompt said. “Maybe he’ll have more information about the Speaker.”
“Good idea,” I said. “He might know other members with motive, too.”
“His title is ‘Dancer,’ yes?” Gompt asked. She wasn’t as familiar with the Etanela as I was. “Strange for him to be the record keeper.”
“Communication and Grace—fluid in mind and body.” I shrugged. “Helps to keep all those records in mind, I suppose.”
“If he knows the names of all the members of the Society, then he’s a weak point.” Gompt adjusted her glasses. “There’s one in every group of friends.”
A valid argument, though a strange way of saying it. I knew Gompt didn’t see her friend circle nearly as often as she used to. She’d complained about it while we worked with Kratitha on the System Beasts.
I brought my mind to the present. “But he couldn’t possibly have given the list away. He was the one who told us about the theft.”
The Society of Two Houses (Dissolution Cycle) Page 5