The Society of Two Houses (Dissolution Cycle)

by William C. Tracy

  I won’t let what happened to Abarham and my parents happen again.

  I took more of the resonance into myself, breaking it into component notes, changing tempo and key so they could no longer harmonize. I could not reclaim these notes, and it would take many days to rebuild my song.

  I shook, pitching forward, then realized the wall of sound had ceased.

  I raised my head. My eyesight was blurry, my hands trembling, as if I had touched one of the live wires transmitting electricity to the new lights in the mansion.

  “What? You should be dead!” Not-Aegrino was adjusting settings on my device. “It was an accident before, but I remember. I remember.”

  I waved my shaking hands at my friends to come closer so I could explain. Gompt was bleeding from her chest, but the cuts were shallow. Kratitha was in worse shape, but the little Pixie limped over, her head high.

  “Must keep resonant harmonics from—ow—from forming,” she said.

  “That’s right.” My shaking was subsiding. “The harmonic resonator combines available melodies into a harmony. If prevented, I believe the energy will feed back into the device.”

  “You believe?” Gompt said. Her voice was raw.

  “It’s the best chance we have,” I said, watching the figure standing at the end of the street. “Listen to your Symphonies. Keep the melodies from harmonizing. It will be hard, but we only need to hold the changes for a few seconds. We can try—” I broke off, seeing the other figure look up. “No time. Get ready.”

  The others spun around, as not-Aegrino raised the wand. I could already hear strands of the Symphony of Potential wavering, tones speeding or slowing to fall into a rhythm. I took more notes from my song. It’s so bare of music. The notes would return over time, but it would take many more experiences for me to grow back to my full potential.

  I inserted my notes like bookmarks between pages, keeping them from sticking together. This was not a carefully crafted change, but creating music with no theme, stuffing notes into both Symphonies that did not belong in the beautiful, natural music of the universe. I could hear Gompt doing the same thing in the Symphony of Potential.

  Auras surrounded the three of us in the colors of our houses, visible only to another majus, blue and brown for Gompt, white and brown around me, and blue and orange around Kratitha. Sparks filled the air, dancing off motes of dust, and blinding me for a moment. I heard a crack of stone, and a twisting, splintering noise of wood exploding. Seconds later, I turned my head away as tiny slivers pelted my face, dropping away harmlessly.

  When my vision returned, a line of cobbles in front of me was fractured. The streetlight danced with flame, the entire globe around the light engulfed in fire. A nearby bush was wilted, dropping leaves, and Gompt’s fur shone with ice.

  “It worked!” Gompt called, and I looked up. The figure was braced against the wall, my invention a shredded mess. Even from this distance, I could see splinters of wood and metal imbedded in his bluish hands. More blood dotted his shirt, where slivers had driven into his chest.

  Gompt rushed forward, past the prone System Beast, and I followed, puffing as if I had raced across Poler. Kratitha came behind, but she was slow, obviously hurting.

  Our antagonist struggled up, but Gompt got there first, checking the other person with a massive shoulder. He staggered against the wall and Gompt clamped both furry paws—strong from months of crafting in the workshop—on his arms.

  I looked up into the Etanela’s face. It was Aegrino, except it wasn’t. The face was subtly different, but also familiar. The hair was the same shade, and in the same style.

  I know this person.

  This was a dominate female of the Etanela, while Aegrino had been a subordinate male—two of the four divisions of Etanela gender.

  Bloody slashes marked her chest as they had Aegrino, though in this case not fatally. Had it happened at the same time? I imagined the resonator between the two, creating deadly energy and slashing at both Etanela. Slashing at the Speaker’s neck.

  She was wearing makeup before. That’s why I didn’t recognize her similarity to Aegrino.

  “You’re the secretary!” I said. My voice was like sandpaper. I might have screamed while the resonant notes coursed through my body. “How do you know about the…the Society?” The geas let me whisper the word. This person clearly knew more than she should.

  “I heard a lot, as a secretary to one of the Assembly’s speakers,” she muttered. “I just needed to get you out of the way so I could clean up. I knew you wouldn’t go to the Imperium guard.”

  The Etanela’s hands did not describe fluid patterns, as normal for the species. Instead she held them in front of her, trembling as she tried to prize shards of wood from where they punctured her palms. Greenish blood dripped, and I could see the tips of several splinters poking all the way through the backs of her blue-tinted hands.

  “Did you kill Aegrino?” Gompt said, still holding the Etanela’s arms. Kratitha stared up to meet our prisoner’s eyes.

  “My name is Bethaya Plumire Lunigi,” she said. Her voice shook, the words slurring together so much it was difficult to understand her.

  “Related to Aegrino, by the name,” Kratitha croaked, and Bethaya nodded, her mane of hair waving.

  “He was my brother—great Sea Mother, it was an accident!” Bethaya wailed. “Everything went so fast. We were just supposed to disrupt the geas with this—thing.” She lifted her hands, where the shards of the resonator pierced her.

  Aegrino said he had to tell his sister about Speaker Thurapo’s death. But she already knew. His sister was the secretary…

  “Then you are aware of the Society,” Gompt rumbled.

  “I’ve known for cycles,” Bethaya said. Tears were flowing down her face. “Slitho and Harha were the ones to finally understand, of all the people my brother and I have tried to tell.” Words flowed from her, as if from a deflating balloon. “We used your accident as an example of the dangers of the Society. Aegrino learned about the resonator wand from his records, then glimpsed it in your workshop one day.” Kratitha hissed in air at that.

  What are those two Sathssn up to? “Was Speaker Thurapo an accident too?” I asked. “Were you trying to recruit a speaker to your cause?”

  I did not expect Bethaya’s next response, which was to crumple to the ground. Gompt barely kept hold on the Etanela’s limp arms.

  “Sea Mother. It had just happened when I heard you coming. I had no time to take care of Juristo’s body.” Bethaya looked at me, seated on the cobbles of Poler, face wet with tears.

  Juristo is Speaker Thurapo. It was like a sheet of cold water washed over me. I hadn’t known his given name. Bethaya must have been with the Speaker before I got there this morning. Her eyes weren’t puffy from sleep this morning—they were puffy from crying. Things began to fall into place.

  “More than a secretary to Thurapo, yes?” Kratitha asked.

  Bethaya sunk in farther, and I her response was almost inaudible. “Juristo and I…became intimate. That Benish councilor pressured him to listen to your proposal, or they would tell Juristo’s mates about us.” Bethaya’s words trailed off in a sob.

  “Then…you’re the leverage the Society had on the Speaker.” I said. “Finally, some motive to interfere with the System Beast proposal, and the Society.”

  “He had been studying that accursed list of names all night,” Bethaya said. “I thought this was finally the chance Harha and I talked about, to show someone in power how our Life Coalition thought.”

  “Wait—you didn’t give him the list of Society names?” Gompt asked, and I stared at our captive. Something still didn’t fit. Kratitha hunched in, and her compound eyes took in everything.

  Bethaya slowly pulled a splinter from her palm, hissing in pain. “No. Juristo said someone delivered the list the night before—a Pixie. I saw the chance to show him what destruction two-house maji can cause.” She looked up at me su
ddenly, venomous. “Even if you make people forget about the explosion you caused in Poler, others won’t. But they don’t know about the Society. I do. I can show how its members play with forces beyond their control.”

  “That was an—an accident,” I choked out, mirroring Bethaya’s excuse. “My parents died, as did my mentor. You have no right to—” I stopped at Gompt’s hand on my arm.

  “We’ll figure that out later,” she said.

  Had I been yelling? My hands were in tight fists.

  Bethaya was talking about how the Speaker wanted a demonstration, and how it went wrong, but I had seen those effects for myself, and Thurapo had paid the ultimate price.

  My eyes were on Kratitha, hunched beside me. She was no longer looking in my direction.

  There were plenty of Pixies in the Society. Fewer than my species, but a good handful. It could have been any of them who delivered the list to the Speaker. But Kratitha had already admitted to adjusting my invention. An invention which Aegrino thought could remove the geas.

  “Did you—” I started, but as usual, my colleague was ahead of me.

  “Did not anticipate these events,” Kratitha said, still hunched over. Her right hand cradled her left arm, tracing around the sliced skin running the length of her forearm, still slowly leaking blood. “Had separate reasons to talk to the Speaker. My caste needs protection. Few scientists left, even now. A genocide, by the warrior caste, and Speaker had…requirements. He suspected Society existed and wanted independent proof. Found a way to accommodate. Promised would not go farther than him.”

  “You little maggot,” Gompt spat. Now it was my turn to put a restraining arm out. “You could have told us at any time where the list of members came from, but you let us wander around like fools.”

  “For our good,” Kratitha said, and her voice gained strength, and speed. “For the good of the System Beasts. The Speaker would approve vote—get other Etanela to vote our way. Would send support to family on Mother Hive. Didn’t know about this one when I did it.” The Pixie waved a languid hand toward Bethaya.

  “Too many secrets,” I said. I pulled Bethaya to her feet, keeping a tight hold on her. I trusted Kratitha to come along with us. She may have been misguided, but I knew her well enough to know her loyalties aligned with ours. There would be…complications. “Where is Aegrino’s body?” I asked our prisoner.

  “Burned,” she said. “As is Juristo’s. Sea Mother, what have I done?” She sank again, but Gompt and I supported her.

  “She’s in shock,” I said. “Let’s get back to the mansion, and figure this out properly.”

  “It was your weapon that did this,” Bethaya snarled, and I deflected a half-serious swipe at my head.

  “An invention,” I replied, “and one that has constructive uses. There was a reason I broke it.”

  “Apologies,” Kratitha mumbled, shuffling along beside us. I could tell she was in pain. It might dull her hyperactive nature until Gompt and I reached Moortlin to tell them what had happened.

  I went to the heap of the Ethulina, and was surprised to find the Systems still intact, but jumbled. I used a precious few more of my notes to knit the aspect back together, and our creation wobbled to its front hooves, then up on all fours. It followed us, favoring a rear leg.

  At least the System Beasts are innocent in all this. We still need to get their production approved, somehow.

  “How much do these Sathssn know?” I asked Bethaya as we walked. “Will they be a problem for the Society?”

  The Etanela grunted as she pulled another shard from her hand, leaving the splinter beside the road. I watched it fall behind us. Maybe I can make a version that works as intended.

  “Slitho and Harha are innocent,” Bethaya said. “Leave them out of this.”

  “They know about the Society,” Gompt said. A line of red marred her chest fur.

  “So do I,” Bethaya said. “So do the families of the maji who are members. Leave the Sathssn’s Life Coalition out of this. It’s a small collection of like-minded people who merely want the universe to be a better place.”

  I snorted, and Gompt rumbled a growl. That didn’t match what Bethaya said about maji having too much power. It was also a common complaint, and I’d endured enough of the Sathssn’s trite nonsense to know it was a fad like other intersections of religion and philosophy dotting the Great Assembly. If the Life Coalition was so concerned with making everyone happy, and with recruiting majus members, the little group wouldn’t do anything against the influence of the maji.

  PART SEVEN

  The Society of Two Houses

  - My great-grandfather Slithen, you know him as ‘the Dreamer.’ This, it is a title given after his series of still-unexplained visions, thought to be sent by the Ideal Form itself. Our coalition of believers, who celebrate the beauty of life perfected, came into existence over fifteen cycles after his death, when I was an infant. For cycles, we have languished, slowly growing our membership, and recently even reaching out to blasphemers outside our species. Me, I am happy to report plans for a new invention delivered by one of these outsiders. I hope this will put to rest discord of whether other species should be included. Information about this invention will speed the work of our scientists and maji in discovering the method to pierce the shroud between our universe and the beyond.

  Notes of Harha to select members of the Most Traditional Servant sect of the Cult of Form, 953 A.A.W.

  We reached the mansion as the light of the walls brightened. I had been awake a long time, starting early yesterday morning when I found the Speaker dead.

  Bethaya came along quietly, neither trying to escape nor fighting our guiding hands. She had lost a brother and a lover in one day, by her own misguided hand.

  I lost parents and mentor in one day, too. She will remember this for the rest of her life.

  Kratitha trudged along, her damaged wing unable to carry her weight. She spoke little—a sign of how cowed she was.

  We passed the gates of the mansion, and I looked to the sphere containing the inert concealing System. It was yet another problem the Society would need to fix, along with the damage to the interior of the mansion.

  We must have been a sight. Even amidst the chaos we drew the gazes of other Society members as we climbed the mansion’s main staircase. Plithin A’Tyf and his spouses were cleaning fallen ceiling plaster, and the trio of Lobath nodded to us gravely. Plithin looked as if he might speak, but we hurried past.

  Moortlin was in their study, and at our knock, I heard the click of multiple latches being drawn.

  The door creaked open and the head of the Society took us all in with one sweep of his unblinking yellow eyes, then gestured into his office. We crowded in, and Moortlin bolted the door again, ensuring we would not be disturbed.

  “Bethaya,” he said to the Etanela, with a creak of his head. “One remembers there was a ban in effect to keep this one from entering the mansion. Does this one need to be escorted out again?”

  “Then you know her?” Gompt said. She took a step toward the Benish. “You could have mentioned she was Thurapo’s lover.”

  Moortlin raised one thick hand out to the side. “One was not aware that one was, hm, even involved, nor could enter the mansion. Bethaya is, hm, the one this group searched for? How would that one get the list, and what of Speaker Thurapo? One visited the Dome of the Assembly, but Aegrino had already, hm, cleaned up the body and the Speaker’s office.”

  “Bethaya was the one who took care of both bodies—burned them,” I told the Benish. I spared a look at Kratitha, who must have caught my movement, though her head was bowed. Her assent was a quick twitch of her head. “Though it turns out Bethaya was not involved with the disappearance of the list of Society members.”

  It was the closest I had seen to Moortlin being surprised. Their eyes blinked dim, then back to their normal luminescence, both hands coming up and out, as if reaching for the answer. “There ar
e more here who wish to see the, hm, Society gone?” they asked. “One suspected the Society would fragment again—one’s enemies have increased over the last two hundred cycles.”

  I was saved having to explain by Kratitha. “Was a matter of family,” she said. “Of caste and pride, and—and Speaker Thurapo asked for much in return for support from Etanela fighters. He suspected Society existed.”

  Moortlin’s head turned from side to side, creaking like a door in need of oil. “The Council of the Maji has been concerned with the recent hostilities between the warrior and scientist classes on Mother Hive. One was surprised when the latest reports said the warriors were beginning to, hm, lose battles.” They reached a hand out toward the little Pixie. “This one had an involvement in that situation?”

  Kratitha raised her head. “Was birthed in the new scientist queen’s first brood. Only majus among them, and close to queen mother. She insisted something be done. Wouldn’t agree to any truce with the warrior mother. Reached out offworld through me. Speaker Thurapo insisted on information in return for help.”

  “This one could speak or write of the Society?” Moortlin’s words were quiet, but I could discern the edge of tension—or was it panic?

  “Turns out Mandamon’s invention could disrupt the geas, with a little tweaking,” Gompt said from where she was helping Bethaya remove more splinters of my wand from her hand. The two were leaving green bloodstains on Moortlin’s carpet. “Kratitha got her hands on it before Bethaya stole it. Aegrino must have given it to her to try to disrupt the geas around them, too.” The Festuour held up one of Bethaya’s hands as the Etanela nodded, confirming Gompt’s theory. “It won’t be a problem any longer.”

  Moortlin shook their head with a dull creak. “No. Once a secret has been breached, hm, it is far easier to breach again.” They made a fist. “One has already had an inquiry about the mansion, now the System at the gates has been damaged. One assumes this is also Bethaya’s work?” The Etanela didn’t answer, and Moortlin continued.