The Society of Two Houses (Dissolution Cycle)

by William C. Tracy

  Gompt’s brow was knotted behind her glasses, and she ran her paws down the pockets of her bandolier. “We need to hurry,” was all she said, and my other hand went to my chronograph. A Methiemum woman joined the Lobath in staring at the mansion.

  At least it’s almost night. Tomorrow morning would be interesting if we couldn’t reactivate the sphere, but there was nothing else we could do right now. I put the teak carving back on its perch.

  Once the gate was open, the Ethulina sprang forward, making the two spectators leap back. The Lobath tugged at his pet’s leash.

  “Watch where that thing is going!” the woman yelled.

  Now they’ll have tales of a mansion rising from nothing, and a mechanical beast that nearly ran them over.

  I gritted my teeth, and Gompt and I followed the Ethulina into the quiet city of Poler. Could we fix the sphere before word got too far into the community? Even if we could, the list was still missing, the murderer was still loose, and even if we found them I might be implicated as an accessory.

  We jogged around one of the immense columns holding up the ceiling of the Nether, stretching up into the distance. The column’s crystal sparkled with the same dim light of the walls. Street lights were coming on, some powered by notes of maji, others simple kerosene lamps. They lit quiet houses, most of their residents already at home. Poler was not known for its nightlife.

  These dwellings were familiar. My parents’ house was not far away, slightly at an angle to our current path. Walls of stone, and brick rose to both sides of the street. No carriages were in sight, but I doubted we would see many this late.

  The Ethulina snorted again and turned down a lane between two large homes. This led to the less affluent sections of the town, and also toward my family’s old house. I clenched my fists at my sides. It belongs to another family now. I had not been back since a ten-day after the accident, when I removed my family’s possessions to a storage facility. They sat there still.

  Reaching the end of the lane, the System Beast turned onto the street toward my old house, and a surge of something like hot ice rose in my chest. My hands were sweating, though the night was cool.

  “Are you well?” Gompt asked. “You’re puffing more than the pullbeast.”

  “It’s nothing,” I panted, but my eyes were drawn to the stone cottage fourth in a line of similar residences. There was the chipped tile on the roof where I had slipped while climbing when I was seven. There was the branch of the flowering mushfet tree where I used to sit and read.

  The damage to the side room has been repaired. There’s no reason to look for it.

  Gompt restrained the Ethulina and turned to me. “You’re white as a ghost. Do you see Kratitha?” Then she followed my gaze. “What’s special about that old house—oh.”

  Suddenly Gompt’s paw was on my shoulder, pulling me close to her. The Festuour came from a civilization based on friend groups instead of families. It was natural to her to comfort others when needed.

  I’m fine. I don’t need anyone else. This pain should be behind me.

  I folded into my friend’s embrace. The softness of her fur, her firm grip, her musty scent—all pushed reason from my mind, and I felt tears run down my face.

  I struggled to reach one hand under my glasses to wipe the offending liquid away, all while Gompt held me close.

  “There, there,” she said, the nothing words offering far more comfort than they should have. I drew in a deep, ragged breath. Gently, she pushed back to regard me, strong paws gripping my shoulders.

  “I’m better,” I said, my face hot. The Ethulina was pawing and inching forward despite Gompt’s instructions to stay put. “We need to keep moving. Find Kratitha.” Gompt nodded and stepped away to let me compose myself.

  When we began again, I half expected the System Beast to turn toward my house, as it was where I first came up with the idea of the resonator, but instead it trotted past, as if there were more important things than the end of my youthful innocence.

  I looked back several times until we rounded the curve and my parent’s home was lost to sight. Why had Kratitha chosen to come this way? Did she know this was my old house or was it just coincidence?

  I’ll go through that storage facility when this is over.

  The Ethulina led us into the heart of Poler, and around another giant column. It supported a market built against the column’s side, though the kiosks were empty this time of day.

  Finally, with a stamp of what seemed like satisfaction, the pullbeast nosed toward a residence I didn’t recognize: neither extravagant, nor poor and tumble-down.

  “Kratitha’s in here?” I asked, despite knowing it couldn’t answer. It stamped a metal hoof again.

  Well, maybe it can.

  At the door, Gompt shrugged, then raised one paw and knocked.

  The door creaked open, and I realized I was staring into the depths of a cowl like those the Sathssn species wore. I was reminded of Tethan, one of those few who eschewed the traditional garments.

  “Yes?” The voice sounded female. “This night, there is something you want?”

  “We—we’re trying to find a friend of ours,” I said. An odd summary of two murders, the chaos at the mansion, and the danger to the Society. “She’s a Pixie, about so high,” I put my hand beside my hip. “We have reason to believe she may have…visited this house.” I hoped my hesitation wasn’t noticeable. I didn’t want to accuse every person we talked to of kidnapping.

  “Who is at the door, Harha?” called a voice from farther inside the house.

  “We’re maji, on official business,” Gompt put in behind me.

  “Maji, they are here from the Imperium,” Harha called back.

  “We’re not—” but I let the words die. I could feel the geas climbing in my mind, stifling any intent to tell them of the mansion or the Society. “We just need to find our friend, and we’ll be on our way,” I said.

  To my surprise, the door opened further. “My mate Slitho and I, we always welcome maji to our home.”

  “You’ve met others, then?” Gompt asked.

  “Certainly,” Harha said. “Though not the one you describe.” She wore the usual black boots and gloves of the Sathssn, her cowl pulled forward so only the glint of yellow eyes could be seen. “Us, we are friends with several maji. Usually, we meet them in the Imperium to discuss theology.”

  Theology? Had we stumbled upon a pair of those who revered the maji as blessed by a divinity? There were groups who still believed that, no matter how much the Council discouraged such thought.

  I looked to Gompt, who once again shrugged, though her blue eyes were wide. We would have to be cautious.

  “Your…animal…it will have to stay outside,” Harha said, looking between us to the Ethulina.

  “Not a problem,” Gompt said, and flipped the switches for the System Beast to go into an inactive mode. I was confident no one would steal it, as it weighed more than Gompt and me combined.

  Inside Slitho and Harha’s home, the construction was very plain, the walls consisting of barely-worked wood, with stone blocks set together to make a floor. There was no mortar between them, and several rocked as I stepped on them.

  Sections of tree trunk served as chairs, and a slab of wood on another stump was a table. No paintings graced the walls, no rugs on the floor. The hair on my arm lifted in a cool breeze and I realized there was no glass in the windows.

  “I have never been in a house…like this,” I said. “Is this how people live on Sath Home?” Few who were not Sathssn visited their homeworld.

  Why did the Ethulina bring us here?

  “This, it is a style little used,” Slitho said, as the other resident came through a doorway with no lintel. He held a small bundle of black cloth, which wiggled and gurgled happily. “Only by the Most Traditional of those who serve the Form.” I could hear the capitals as he spoke. Slitho had a deep voice for the diminutive species, and I gu
essed he was used to public speaking. “Please, have a seat. We enjoy conversation with other species and ways of thought.”

  “’Blasphemers,’ he means,” Gompt whispered in my ear as we found seats on the unfinished stumps. Mine was of some heavy purple wood, and Gompt chose one that was dull orange with rings of green. We introduced ourselves to the couple.

  “We unfortunately have little time for conversation,” I said to the two black-cloaked figures. A giggle came from the bundle Slitho held. “Though we would welcome any information on the maji you’ve spoken with.” The openings of their cowls followed me, but aside from that I could tell little of what they looked like. Have they talked to someone from the Society?

  “This, we understand,” Harha said. “Would you care for refreshment while you are here? We have pure water, and a selection of greens from our garden.”

  “No thanks,” Gompt said before I could speak. She was looking at a corner of the room and I saw a bundle of leaves, half separated onto two crude pottery plates.

  “I apologize if we’ve disturbed your meal,” I added.

  “In this, there is no offense,” Slitho said. “We do relish talking with maji. It is our belief they are instrumental in making the Great Assembly a place of happiness and life.” He lifted the wiggly bundle he held and I saw two little black footies stick out from underneath. “We wish only the best for our son Essra.”

  “A noble concept,” I said. Who would disagree with that? Yet why are we here?

  “Me, I am glad you agree.” Slitho lifted his son up to stand on one of the Sathssn’s thighs. “There is a group of our people who have strong beliefs likewise, and even a few in other species. Too much, we are sick of people rushing around, with no respect. There is murder and crime in the big cities, and people, they are just unkind to each other.”

  “We wish to celebrate life,” Harha said as I fidgeted, wishing to go already. “The maji, they would be a valuable addition to the coalition of likeminded people we know. Devoted, what was the name of the one who came to our house recently? A local majus, I thought.” Harha gestured vaguely at her mate.

  “The tall fellow, yes,” Slitho said, then spoke to Essra in a sing-song voice. “What was his name, now? Lanera? Luni--?”

  “Ah, Majus Lunigi,” Harha supplied. Both Gompt and I sat bolt upright.

  “Majus Aegrino Plumera Lunigi was here?” my friend asked. I leaned forward as if I could pull the answer from them.

  “Why—yes,” Harha said. If a blank cowl could show surprise, hers did. “You know him? A pleasant Etanela, if a little scattered.”

  “We are familiar with him.” I tried to keep the excitement out of my voice.

  “A friend—or was it relation?—of his brought him to one of our meetings,” Slitho said. “Majus Lunigi, he found a simple comfort in the things we said. We met with him a few times afterward, as we both lived in Poler. I believe he lives somewhere nearby, though we could never learn quite where.”

  “With you, we would be happy to share some of the literature our coalition has created,” Harha said.

  I stood. “Would you mind terribly if I used your facilities?” I asked. “We have been looking for our friend for some time. I’m sure Gompt would be interested in your pamphlets.”

  “This, it is the least we can do to assist,” Slitho said. “Just through there.” He pointed to a nearby door, little more than a slab of wood.

  I gave Gompt an apologetic grimace as I passed. She showed me her teeth. That was not how Festuour smiled.

  I heard her making sounds of agreement as I slipped into the Sathssn couple’s bathroom, which was as simple as the rest of their house. The toilet, as I suspected, was merely a hole in the floor covered with a piece of stone.

  Kratitha hasn’t been in that room, but Aegrino has. So why did the Ethulina track Kratitha here? What’s Aegrino’s connection to Slitho and Harha? Do they know about Speaker Thurapo’s death?

  I opened myself to the Symphony of Healing. The melody defining Kratitha’s blood was still fresh in my mind. Like any tune, it was simpler to remember a specific section than the whole piece. I found a roll of coarse paper near the toilet, and drew a small knife from my belt.

  I winced as I pricked my finger, then squeezed out a single drop of blood onto the paper. The frenetic tempo of my blood slowed as the droplet cooled, and I recreated what I remembered from Kratitha’s melody with my own notes, then imposed that refrain over the music in the drop of blood. It was inexact, but until I took my notes back, this droplet would act as Kratitha’s blood.

  I paced the small room, holding the paper and trying to match the simple tune I constructed with another strand of the Symphony. Outside the door, Gompt’s robust tune rolled underneath the counterpoints of Slitho and Harha, with a few trills from Essra. I saw no reason for the pair to lie. They seemed earnest folk, if a little strange.

  So why did the System Beast insist Kratitha was here?

  There was a little window in the bathroom, also with no glass. I went to it, and a harmony formed with the bloodied paper I held. Did she only pass close by? If it was close enough, the Ethulina may have been fooled. I leaned as far out as I could, and the matching music was stronger, down in a curly-leafed bush growing beneath the window. I suspected if it had not been so dark, I might have seen droplets of her blood.

  Now I listened to the Symphony of Potential, stroking my beard. The bush had resisted a weight, and I could hear a subtheme playing slower than the rest. Kratitha had been outside this window—for what reason?

  Had she been alone? I closed my eyes, listening for where the two Symphonies intersected—where music of biology complemented the energy of bodies. I could almost visualize a corridor of music—Kratitha’s path. No…there was another! Someone larger than the diminutive Pixie and me. The music of the other body was quieter. Had she been following the killer?

  “Feeling refreshed?” Gompt locked eyes with me as I exited the bathroom. There was a small pile of papers on the stump where I had sat, and the two Sathssn were leaning forward excitedly, while my colleague was turned slightly away. Essra was sitting in her lap, a trail of greenish drool making a slick down his black tunic and matting the fur on Gompt’s paw.

  “Much better.” I looked to the Sathssn. “And I’m sure we’ve taken up enough of Slitho and Harha’s time.”

  Gompt got to her feet in a flash, handing the little wiggling bundle back to his parents. “Yes. We need to continue searching for Kratitha.”

  She tried to give a piece of paper back to Slitho as well, but he waved her away. “This information, keep it. If you feel inclined to come to one of our meetings, we are always accepting of new members.”

  We made our farewells, and exited. Gompt reactivated the System Beast, and we walked down the front path. I could see Gompt’s furry ears quivering with the effort of not saying anything.

  “Kratitha passed by the side of their house,” I said. “We should be able to pick up her trail the next street over.”

  “Then maybe listening to that gibberish while you played around in the bathroom was worth it,” Gompt growled. “‘Coalition who believe in life’ indeed. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were trying to gouge maji out of their money. It all sounds very inexact and fluffy.” She shook her head disgustedly.

  “Many religions sound like that,” I countered. “Though I can’t say what Aegrino saw in it. I thought he was a logical individual. It feels like this should be connected to the Speaker’s murder, but I have no idea how.”

  We turned a corner, the pullbeast trotting along behind us. “On top of that, Kratitha stopped by their bathroom window.”

  “Why?” Gompt asked. “Did she figure out Aegrino went to listen to those two fanatics?”

  I shook my head, then pushed my glasses back up. “Unknown. Maybe she saw a chance to bandage her wounds.”

  Gompt shook her head. “The way Kratitha’s mind skids like a cub on ice
, she’d probably forgotten she was bleeding by that point. She must have been looking for something, or someone.”

  I acknowledged the point with a wave of a hand. “Then what did she know? Why did she leave, and why didn’t she tell us about it?”

  “The mansion was exploding at the time.” Gompt rested a hand on the pullbeast’s flank. It was pulling ahead, leaning into the next turn. The System Gompt had attached to its throat must have picked up Kratitha’s trail again.

  “What is the connection between Kratitha and Aegrino?” Gompt mused. “I don’t know if they’d even talked to each other.” I could just see her questioning blue eyes in the twilight from the walls of the Nether.

  “She was following someone,” I repeated. “Or was it the other way around? Kratitha might have been captive, and tried to call for help at that house.” The pullbeast was slowing, and we slowed with it. “If the killer has my invention, they can cause catastrophe with any Systems they encounter.” I paused. “What is it?”

  Gompt was peering into one of the System Beast’s hatches, one paw scrabbling for a set of gears. “It’s stopped. Something must be wrong.”

  “Uh, Gompt,” I said. I hope that isn’t… “Gompt!”

  My colleague jerked up. “What? Oh—is that—?”

  We ran to the entrance of a nearby alley, where a small lump of clothes and wings lay in a pile.

  I put one hand under Kratitha’s neck, staring into her face. Her compound eyes never closed, and Pixies rarely slept—a product of their short life cycle—so if one was unconscious, it was a bad sign.

  “Is she still with us?” Gompt put a paw on the Pixie’s arm, her neck, then let out a frustrated snort. “No circulatory system, or at least no pulse to feel. How do you tell if a Pixie’s alive if it’s not running around?”

  “By how much talking they do,” Kratitha said in a weak voice, and Gompt and I exhaled in relief. She pushed up on one hand, her wings starting to buzz. We scooted back to give her more room.