“–hy you roused me?” Static was saying grumpily. “To harass me over minutia that doesn’t even matter?”
They both turned in my direction.
“Uh…sorry,” I began. “I’ll just–”
“Don’t go anywhere,” Rune said to me, obviously anticipating that I was going to excuse myself. Turning back to Static, he remarked, “It absolutely matters. You’re a Chomarsus, so there’s no need to take shortcuts or do shabby work.”
“Fine,” Static shot back testily. “It’s a waste, but I’ll fix it.”
A moment later, he vanished.
“What was that all about?” I asked.
“Static being Static,” Rune replied.
Not knowing what he meant, I simply stayed silent, and after a moment, he went on.
“You probably don’t see it,” he continued, “but despite everything that’s going on, we Incarnates still have duties. Responsibilities. Even while we’re stuck here dealing with a murder.”
“I take it someone’s not holding up their end?”
“Static,” Rune answered, “as if you couldn’t tell from what just happened.” I merely shrugged, at which point he continued, saying, “You remember Dalmion, who met us when we arrived?”
“The majordomo?” I said. “Sure.”
“Well, you probably couldn’t tell, but the uniform he was wearing — that all the servants here wear — is also a type of armor. Basically, they also have the job of serving as a fighting force if we’re ever attacked.”
I raised an eyebrow at this. “This place is at risk of attack?”
“I know, I know,” he droned. “Being outside of space and time, it doesn’t seem likely. But from my point of view, it doesn’t hurt to expect the unexpected.”
“Makes sense,” I conceded. “So what does this have to do with Static?”
“He was responsible for providing the current batch of uniforms. However, he’s inherently lazy, and therefore has a bad habit of taking shortcuts. In this instance, the uniform wasn’t armored. So when the servants were going through a recent training exercise, one of them was injured because his uniform — which was supposed to protect against weapons fire — didn’t do its job. Static’s excuse is that it takes a little longer and requires him to expend more sivrrut to make the armored uniform, and since we never come under attack here, he didn’t see the need.”
“But he’s going to fix it?”
“So he says, but this is typical of him. He’s like a chef who’s baking a cake and runs out of sugar. Instead of going out to get more, he’d rather just use salt because they’re both white and look alike.”
“Okay,” I mused. “I guess that does sound a bit indolent.”
“That’s just the tip of the iceberg with him,” Rune stated. He let out a pent-up breath and then, apparently ready to move on, said, “Anyway, how’d it go with the laamuffals?”
“Less than stellar,” I replied, then gave him a quick overview of the interviews (although I glossed over the part about visiting the Relic Room).
“One thing Ursula said did get my attention, though,” I said.
“Oh?” muttered Rune, keenly interested.
“She said that Endow doesn’t lie. Can’t lie, in fact.”
Rune nodded. “That’s true.”
I gave him an incredulous stare. “Is there a reason you wouldn’t tell me that?”
“Because she needs to be vetted and eliminated as a suspect through the same process as everyone else — whatever that ends up being.”
“But if she can’t lie, I can just ask her if she did it and either eliminate her as a suspect or point the finger at her as the killer.”
Rune shook his head in a condescending manner. “Just because she can’t lie doesn’t mean she can’t equivocate.”
“Huh?” I muttered in bewilderment.
“She doesn’t have to give straight answers,” he explained. “For instance, many places have laws that allow murderers to be executed, right?”
“Sure,” I agreed, trying to figure out where this was going.
“Is that considered murder?”
“No,” I responded. “It’s legally sanctioned.”
“So imagine you ask Endow if she committed murder, but she believes she merely executed a killer.”
I chewed on his hypothetical only for a moment before deciding, “She’ll say she didn’t murder anyone.”
“Right,” Rune stated with a nod. “Now suppose you try to throw her a curveball and ask her if she’s taken anyone’s life. But let’s assume Endow believes everyone has an immortal soul.”
“She’ll probably answer that with a ‘No’ as well,” I said. “Basically, she’ll find a way to sidestep the question while giving truthful answers.”
“Now you’re getting it,” Rune noted. “She’ll equivocate. Of course, that’s if she answers at all.”
“What?” I intoned. “I thought she had to tell the truth.”
“She does,” he confirmed. “But just because you ask a question doesn’t mean she’s compelled to answer. In that respect, she still has a choice.”
I contemplated on this for a second. “So you’re saying that if I ask Endow something like, say, whether she loves me, she could respond — presumably in the affirmative or negative — or she could just sit quietly.”
“First of all, yes — your analogy is spot-on,” he declared. “Second of all, don’t go there.”
“Go where?” I asked, plainly confused.
“Falling for Endow.”
His tone was so serious and somber that I started chuckling heartily. Just thinking about the age difference between me and Endow was hilarious, so it was obvious that Rune was making a joke. Thus, it took a few seconds for me to realize that Rune wasn’t laughing.
Chapter 30
Following our discussion about Endow, the next pressing issue on my mind was the man from the fresco. I had planned to ask Rune about him, but remembered the fellow adamantly stressing that Incarnates shouldn’t be made aware of him. More importantly, I had sensed that the man was trustworthy.
Bearing all that in mind, I decided to forego discussing the issue with Rune and opted instead to confer with another local: Ursula.
*****
Running her down turned out to be fairly easy. I simply told Rune that I needed to speak to Ursula, and he, in turn, simply glanced away for a few seconds before informing me that she was in her quarters. Then he made what appeared to be a twirling motion with his finger. A moment later, I was in what I took to be a great room, with a sizeable fireplace, lush carpeting, and posh furniture.
Sitting on a nearby love seat, Ursula gave me a smile.
“Oh my — a gentleman caller,” she said coquettishly, patting the seat next to her. “You know, guys usually wait a little longer before finding a pretext to see me again.”
“Huh?” I muttered, confused.
“We practically just finished in the Relic Room, and you’re already asking your friends to ask my friends to ask me if you can stop by.”
Laughing, I took a seat next to her. “So Rune reached out to Endow when I mentioned wanting to talk to you. And she, in turn, contacted you.”
“Yes, but feel free to cut out the middlemen next time,” she teased. “And no need to come up with some flimsy excuse — just say you missed me.”
“Unfortunately, it wasn’t a pretense,” I said, chuckling. “I have a legitimate reason for wanting to see you.”
“I don’t think infatuation counts,” she stated with a kittenish expression.
“Come on,” I implored with a grin. “I need your help.”
“You’re no fun,” she pouted. “But okay, what’s the problem?”
“I need to show you something — telepathically.”
She merely nodded in response, and I reached out and relayed to her my experience with the guy from the fresco.
Chapter 31
It didn’t take long to share what had happen
ed with Ursula.
After breaking the telepathic connection, I said, “Basically, I’m trying to figure out who the Fresco Kid is and what he wants.”
“Well, he’s more of a man than a kid,” Ursula noted, “but that’s Cerek.”
I looked at her in surprise. “It is?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Looks like he’s been roughing it for a few days, but that’s him.”
“So,” I droned, trying to put that fact in context, “was that his ghost or something?”
“No, you goof,” she teased. “The presence of his ghost would mean that he’s dead. That was an astral projection, which means he’s very much alive.”
“Alive where?” I asked. “The Incarnates say they can’t find him here, and as I understand it, nothing can enter or leave.”
“That’s all true,” Ursula confirmed.
“So where could he be, then?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Think about it,” I urged. “If you wanted to hide from an Incarnate in our present environment, where would you go?”
She threw up her hands in frustration. “There’s nowhere you could go. A Chomarsus can see all the places in Permovren that are accessible, and the verboten places are…well, verboten.”
I thought about that for a moment, reflecting on something I’d recently heard.
“Rune mentioned to me that some places in Permovren are off-limits,” I said. “Are those what you’re referring to?”
“Yes.”
“How many places are we talking about?”
Ursula made a vague gesture. “I don’t know. I’ve never done a full tally.”
“How many would you guess?”
“I’m not sure,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Let’s see…there’s the Paragon Potens. The Conflagration Chamber. The Room of Ebon Enlightenment…”
“Hold on,” I interjected, as something she said seemed to resonate with me. “That last…”
“The Room of Ebon Enlightenment?”
“Yeah — what is that?” I asked.
“Honestly, you’re probably asking the wrong person since I’ve never been in it,” Ursula admitted. “That said, it’s supposed to be a place that will, among other things, give you answers to the questions you don’t know.”
I gave her a look of incomprehension. “What does that even mean?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” she declared. “It sounds like maybe it addresses questions you aren’t consciously aware of.”
“Like when you found something I subconsciously wanted to see,” I suggested.
“I suppose,” she softly concurred. “Basically — as the name implies — the room is supposed to bring light to darkness, but I assume that’s just a metaphor.”
“I’m not so sure,” I said, reflecting back on what had occurred while I was exploring. “Anyway, it must be comforting to know that Cerek is still alive, even if we don’t know exactly where he is.”
“It’s a bit of a relief,” she admitted.
“I can imagine,” I said. “I would find it completely nerve-racking if a friend just disappeared and I didn’t know what happened to them.”
Ursula stared at me for a moment. “So you’re saying that if it were your friend, you’d want to know what happened.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Even if it was something bad?”
“Of course,” I replied. “I think that’s just human nature.”
“I think I’ve been around Incarnates so long I’ve forgotten what human nature is like,” she said flatly.
“I’m sorry,” I intoned, “but I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
She merely stared at me for a moment, and emotionally I could feel her wrestling with hesitancy and doubt, as if she was trying to come to a decision about something.
Finally she stood up and said, “Come with me. I need to show you something.”
Chapter 32
We ended up back in the Cosmos Corridor, where Ursula once again brought up the dimensional vortex. As before, the same two man-shaped figures were in the beam of light, and I could sense them empathically.
Ursula gestured toward the pair in the light beam. “You said these were your friends.”
I groaned noncommittally, not wanting to get into the details of how I knew the two men.
“Unfortunately,” she continued, “they don’t make it.”
She looked at me expectantly, but I simply frowned, not sure what she was talking about.
“They don’t make what?” I finally asked.
“They don’t make it,” she repeated. “They don’t survive.”
“Huh?” I blurted out. “What do you mean, they don’t make it? Of course, they make it!”
“Look,” she said, pointing to an area farther ahead of the men along the beam of light. I gazed at the region she indicated, noting that the beam seemed to be twisted and distorted there.
“That’s some kind of dimensional rift,” she explained. “It came out of nowhere, but when these two go through it, they’ll die.”
Stunned, I simply shook my head.
“No,” I insisted. “It’s not possible.”
“I’m sorry, but it is.”
“No, you don’t understand,” I practically growled. “They make it through. It’s already happened.”
“Maybe it did,” Ursula said, giving me a forlorn look. “However, in this place, nothing is set — not even events in the past. Forces arise, come into play — and things come undone.”
I found myself breathing heavily, getting angry.
“Get Endow,” I practically demanded. “Tell her to fix this.”
“She can’t,” Ursula stated sorrowfully.
“Sure she can. She can do the same thing she did with that driver — endow them with an ability that will let them survive.”
Ursula shook her head. “She won’t.”
“Well, we won’t know until we ask her.”
Giving me a sad look, she said, “I already did.”
I simply stood there in stunned disbelief, unable to speak.
“I asked her as soon as I realized what was going to happen,” she continued.
“And?” I barked.
“She said she’s not meant to save those two, and they have to be left to their fate.”
*****
Fuming and frustrated beyond words, I allowed Ursula to drag me from the Cosmos Corridor and into a passageway outside.
“So what good are they?” I finally said. “What good are these Incarnates and all their vaunted powers if they can’t save a couple of guys like that?”
I gestured angrily toward the room we’d just left as I finished speaking.
“You have to understand,” Ursula countered. “It may seem like they can do whatever they want, but every Incarnate has duties — obligations they can’t shirk. Thus, they can’t always do what they want — or what we’d like them to do.”
Unfazed by Ursula’s rhetoric, I was about to continue my rant when the entire passageway suddenly shook convulsively. At the same time, a familiar sound — physically agonizing and mentally excruciating — echoed throughout the place.
Reverb! I thought instantly.
Chapter 33
I found myself gritting my teeth and groaning as Reverb’s voice sounded all around us. Ursula, feeling no need to hold back, let out a sonorous, undulating scream of torment while at the same time bringing her hands up to cover her ears.
I immediately shut down my pain receptors. As the noise receded and the place stopped shaking, Ursula swiftly took her hands from her ears and brought them together in front of her, about six inches apart. Her palms, I noticed, had blood on them. It was then that I realized her ears were bleeding.
She seemed to concentrate for a moment, and seconds later an object appeared, floating, between her hands. It was a small triangular prism, maybe three inches long and made of stone. Its surface was covered with strange markin
gs and designs that glowed softly.
No sooner had the prism appeared, however, than we were assaulted by another tortuous cacophony of sound that rattled the walls and floor. Ursula made a harsh gasping sound, then her eyes rolled up in her head. At the same time, the stone prism ceased floating and dropped.
I shifted into super speed, catching the prism before it struck the floor. (Somehow I doubted that it would break, but didn’t feel the need to take chances.) Wanting to keep my hands free, I slipped it into a pocket and then — after getting into position to catch Ursula — switched back to normal speed. Based on how I’d situated myself, she practically fell into my arms.
I lifted her up, pulling her close to my chest, and quickly looked her over. In addition to her ears, she now had blood running from her nose. Based on that alone, I guessed she was in pretty bad shape. (For all I knew, my own condition was probably just as bad — I simply wasn’t feeling it.)
I spent a moment trying to determine my next course of action. I could teleport us easily enough, but — although his voice had resonated all around us — I didn’t know exactly where Reverb was. (Truth be told, I didn’t even know if he was inside the castle.) If I made a mistake and brought us closer to him, it was likely to be game over for Ursula.
No, rather than make a random guess on teleporting, we’d be better served by finding a place to hunker down. I looked around, eager to find some form of shelter, something that would shield us from Reverb’s voice. I didn’t see anything nearby except the walls of the passageway.
Walls! I suddenly thought.
Once, in the recent past, I had managed to temporarily escape the effects of a villain’s weapon by taking refuge within a wall. With nothing to lose, it was certainly worth seeing if lightning would strike twice. Mentally crossing my fingers, I dashed to the nearest wall, phased the two of us, and stepped inside.
Chapter 34
Reverb’s voice sounded three or four more times while we were in our makeshift foxhole, rattling the walls on each occasion. In total, his verbal assault (for lack of a better term) probably lasted no more than a minute or so, but felt much longer. Needless to say, I stayed put — still holding Ursula — until well after the last time his vocals sent tremors through the place. In fact, we didn’t stick our noses out, so to speak, until a familiar voice gave the all-clear.
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