I groaned in exasperation. There were quite a few reasons why the book might have — or appear to have — blank pages. At the moment, however, I wasn’t sure if this book was even what I needed to help me figure out what Cerek’s clues meant.
Now vexed, I reached out, preparing to close the book and seek some other way to do the necessary research. My hand froze just as I touched the tome and my mouth almost fell open. Shockingly, words were appearing on the page, and the first one — positioned on the page like a heading — was “MOUSES.”
Chapter 43
For all intents and purposes, the book essentially acted like a published version of an internet search. It focused on the topic at hand (which I presume it somehow extracted from my mind) and produced page after page of related information.
By my estimate, it took maybe fifteen minutes of reading through the book’s references on “Mouses” to find the information I was looking for. When I did, I simply sat there in shock for a moment as the implications hit me. If I had truly figured out Cerek’s clue (and I believed that I had), then I knew who the murderer was.
That said, there was still a chance that I was wrong. More to the point, if I was wrong, a misstep at this juncture would just tip the killer off. No, I needed to be absolutely certain I was right before pointing the finger at anyone in particular.
Unfortunately, there was no way to establish the facts with any degree of certainty — not without more information. And then I almost laughed out loud. I had more information.
Or rather, I had a way to get more information: Kleop — the other clue I had received from Cerek.
Still chuckling to myself regarding my blatant oversight, I stared at a blank page of the book and started focusing on the topic I had in mind. As before, words began forming, this time with “KLEOP” as the heading.
However, words had barely begun forming on the page before I felt something like a small tremor pass through the library, rattling furniture and bookcases to a small extent. Without being told, I knew what had happened.
A few moments later, Rune appeared, sporting a gravely serious expression. He merely looked at me, without saying anything. On my part, I simply gave him a nod, indicating I was ready. A second later, we vanished.
Chapter 44
We popped up in what was probably a hallway on some blueprint of the castle, but it was hard to tell with the naked eye because the walls had been blasted to rubble for a hundred feet in every direction. It was obviously the handiwork of the killer, once again eliminating the possibility of the crime scene being reverse engineered.
I looked around to get a quick head count. In addition to Rune and myself, others present included Endow, Mariner, and Static. That meant…
“Pinion?” I said, directing my question at Rune.
“Yeah,” Rune stated with a nod. “He’s gone.”
His words seemed to echo around us, sullen reminders not only of the fact that we’d lost someone else, but that the killer was still among us.
Now that the subject had been brought to mind, I glanced at the person I believed to be the murderer. The suspect looked no less troubled or concerned about Pinion’s death than anyone else. However, that didn’t necessarily mean anything. The killer had played the role of grieving friend through two prior deaths; it was probably old hat at this point.
“So, Rune, is the third time the charm?” Static asked, cutting into my thoughts. “Have we had enough deaths to convince you that we need the Kroten Yoso Va?”
“If we keep dying at this rate, we won’t need it,” Mariner noted. “The killer will be the last man standing.”
“Regardless, I still say using it now would be premature,” Rune shot back.
The conversation between the Incarnates then turned into a bickering session that was almost a repeat of the earlier discussion, with Static calling for use of the Kroten Yoso Va and Rune rebuffing his arguments.
Having heard this topic discussed previously, I tuned them out for the most part. Although I personally agreed with Static, I didn’t like the idea of publicly opposing Rune on the subject (not to mention the fact that no one had asked my opinion), so I kept my thoughts to myself.
At that point, the squabbling came to a hard stop with Rune abruptly announcing, “This conversation’s over.”
Moments later, we were back in our suite.
Chapter 45
We appeared in the living room. Rune, with a scowl etched on his features, was obviously still dwelling on the discussion he’d just had. Thinking he might want a few minutes to himself, I excused myself and was about to teleport to my apartment when he called out.
“Hey,” he began, “I’m sorry you had to hear us quarreling like that.”
“Not a big deal,” I assured him. “However, I did have one question.”
“Go for it,” Rune said.
“Well, you guys keep talking about using the Kroten Yoso Va,” I stated, “but you told me that you left it.”
“I remember,” Rune declared with a nod.
“But you also told me that nothing can get in or out of Permovren right now. So how exactly would you get it here?”
“The most straightforward way would be to eliminate the seal,” Rune said.
I could almost have kicked myself. That was obviously the most direct method of getting the Kroten Yoso Va here, and I had completely overlooked it. Moreover, failing to consider that option had led to me asking what I now thought of as a boneheaded question.
“However, getting rid of the seal is the last thing I want to do,” Rune continued. “Once that’s gone, the murderer can get out.”
“And then all bets are off,” I said, remembering our prior chat about the difficulty in taking on an Incarnate with their full slate of powers. “So is there a way to bring it here without getting rid of the seal?”
“There is, but it’s tricky,” Rune stressed. “But as I keep saying, we’re not there yet.”
Chapter 46
After finishing my conversation with Rune, I teleported to my quarters, popping up in the living room. I flopped down on the couch and then rubbed my temples for a moment, trying to relax.
Thinking about everything that had happened of late — especially the most recent murder — I found myself sighing gloomily. I hadn’t known Pinion well, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t share in the grief I knew Rune had to be feeling, even if I couldn’t detect it. In addition, I felt Pinion’s demise weighing heavily on me, especially with it coming so close on the heels of Reverb’s death.
Basically, I had been brought in to find a killer, but my progress in that department had been astonishingly slow. Now, as a result of my slothful pace, there had been not just one but two additional murders.
Who am I kidding? I thought. These were Incarnates getting knocked off. If they — with all the things they could do — couldn’t save themselves or find the murderer, what chance did I have? Even if my research was accurate and my hunch about the killer’s identity turned out to be true, would it do any good? I seriously doubted that, when the dust settled, I’d be able to save the Incarnates. I wouldn’t even be able to save myself. I wouldn’t be able to save anybody — not Rune, not Endow, not Ursula…
I sat up, blinking in surprise as I had a sudden epiphany: actually, there was somebody I could save. Two somebodies, to be exact.
Incredibly excited (and well aware of the fact that I was about to break some rules), I then cycled my vision to the appropriate portion of the spectrum and teleported.
*****
I popped up in the Cosmos Corridor. Much to my dismay, however, someone was already there: Static.
He was in the middle of the room, with his back to me. I couldn’t quite see what he was doing, but got the impression that he was devoting single-minded focus to the task at hand. (I also couldn’t see what I was looking for, and so assumed he was blocking my view.)
I immediately made myself invisible. Basically, I wasn’t supposed to be ther
e, and thus didn’t like the notion of having to explain my presence. Then, I remembered: even when I was invisible, Incarnates still possessed the ability to see me. That being the case, my little plan appeared to be over before I even had a chance to effectuate it — especially when Static, perhaps detecting my presence in some fashion, glanced around for a moment.
Swiftly scanning the room, his eyes passed right over me. Feeling that my cover was blown, I was about to make some flimsy excuse about looking for Ursula when — seemingly satisfied — Static turned back to whatever he was working on. In short, he was apparently so preoccupied with his current endeavor that he hadn’t noticed me. (Or, it suddenly occurred to me, maybe he had seen me but just didn’t feel it was worth his time to address me — a notion which actually seemed fairly likely.)
A few moments later, Static vanished in typical Incarnate fashion — one second he was there; the next, he was gone. With my view of the room now unimpeded, it only took me a second to find what I was looking for: the beam of light with the two figures on it. Not knowing how big my window of opportunity was, I swiftly put my plan into motion.
I dashed to the area where the receptacle was kept — the one Endow had used to save the sportscar driver. Grabbing it, I then hustled to the beam of light, where I happily noted that the two figures were still present, although they had moved significantly closer to the dimensional rift.
Slightly nervous, I opened the container. As before, it contained rows of colorful gemstones, all giving off a soft glow. At that point, however, I abruptly realized that my plan was half-baked at best, because I had no idea what to do next.
In essence, I had planned to tear a page from Endow’s playbook and use the gems to ensure that the guys on the light beam made it through the dimensional rift alive. The problem was that, although I had seen Endow use one of the gems, I honestly had no idea what they did or how they were differentiated.
Hoping that physical contact might convey some sense of the gems’ properties, I picked a handful of them from the container and held them in my palm, eyeing them fiercely. Unfortunately, that garnered me no better indication of their attributes.
“Jim, is that you?” said an unexpected voice.
Caught with my hand in the cookie jar, my knee-jerk reaction was to hide the evidence. Thus, I made the gems in my palm invisible — at least to human sight. (With my vision cycled to another part of the spectrum, I could still see them.) At the same time, I looked around for the origin of the voice and saw Ursula standing near the entrance to the room.
“Come on, Jim,” she droned as she approached. “I know it’s you. I can see something seemingly floating in the air by itself, like when you displayed your powers before.”
Taking my eyes off her for a second, I stretched out the hand holding the gems toward the figures on the shaft of light. Tilting my hand up, I curled my fingers over my palm so that they made a funnel of sorts. I then “poured” the gems out over the two forms on the light beam.
My intent was to split the number of gems evenly between the two figures. However, in my haste (or perhaps due to anxiety), I actually dropped a few more on one than the other. As with the driver Endow had gifted, the gems disappeared upon contact with the figures, and for a second I wondered if I should have thought about this more rather than acting on impulse. A moment later, however, Ursula was standing next to me and I had no more time to dwell on the subject.
Making myself visible, I said, “Hi. What are you doing here? I thought you were convalescing.”
“My injuries weren’t that severe and I made a quick recovery,” she replied. “I’m here because I received notice of an unauthorized presence in the room.”
“Notice?” I repeated in surprise.
She nodded. “Yeah, it’s kind of like a silent alarm. Lets us know when unauthorized persons are in an area under Endow’s purview — like this room. Now tell me, what are you–”
She stopped abruptly as she suddenly noticed what I was holding. Her eyes then shot to the beam of light, then back to the container and finally to my face.
“Oh, Jim,” she almost moaned. “Please tell me you didn’t try to do this.”
I didn’t say anything, merely looked at the ground forlornly.
“Jim!” she exclaimed, continuing. “You can’t do that! Only Incarnates can bestow gifts.”
“What did you expect?” I shot back. “I couldn’t just let them die, and no one else was doing anything.”
She gave me a sad, woeful look. “Look, I have to report this — tell Endow.”
“I understand,” I declared with a nod. “I’ll deal with whatever punishment is appropriate, but I’m not sorry.”
Chapter 47
I teleported back to my quarters after the conversation with Ursula. I had probably burned some bridges with that little maneuver, but as I’d told Ursula, I wasn’t sorry. It was something I had felt needed to be done (and in retrospect, I actually wished I’d done it earlier).
Now it was just a matter of when I’d be confronted about it. A few minutes later, Rune reached out telepathically.
A moment later, I found myself back in the area where Pinion had been killed. It had not yet been repaired, and therefore still resembled a war zone to some extent.
As expected, all of the Incarnates were present, including my number-one suspect. At the thought of the killer, I spent a brief moment considering whether I should have devoted time to completing research on the clues Cerek had provided rather than trying to save the people in the Cosmos Corridor. However, my resolve quickly strengthened, with me concluding that — all things considered — I had made the right decision. Moreover, depending on how egregious they considered my conduct, I might still have a chance at walking away with a slap on the wrist.
“So, shall we get started?” I said to no one in particular, ready to get this over and done with.
“Of course,” replied Endow. “Here’s the gear.”
“Gear?” I repeated, then noticed that she had her hand extended before her.
There, floating about three inches above her open palm, was a small metal cog. I immediately recognized it as the one that had previously resided on Pinion’s hat.
“After Pinion’s death,” Endow explained, “I returned to my quarters and found this waiting for me.”
“It appears that Pinion sent it there after he was attacked,” Rune added.
My eyebrows went up in surprise — mostly due to the fact that we apparently were not here to parley about my recent antics. It seemed that Ursula hadn’t ratted me out after all (or at least, not yet).
Wanting to keep the conversation on its present course, I said, “Why would he do that? I mean, I saw him use that gear as a weapon. Why would he get rid of it?”
“Because he was losing the fight,” Mariner surmised, “and he didn’t want it destroyed when the killer decimated this place.”
As he finished speaking, Mariner made a gesture encompassing the surrounding rubble.
My brow furrowed as I focused on what I’d just heard, trying to discern the meaning. After a few moments, I thought I had it.
“If Pinion wanted to preserve the cog, that means it’s a clue,” I deduced.
“More than a clue,” Static chimed in. “It’s evidence. It can pinpoint the killer.”
Chapter 48
Like many metal surfaces, it turned out that the exterior of Pinion’s gear was reflective. Although not exactly mirror quality, it did produce a likeness of things around it. More to the point, Incarnates apparently had the ability to extract past reflections from it.
In addition, the gear also had another unique attribute: it could, based on their powers, identify which individuals (i.e., Incarnates) were in close proximity or had used their sivrrut near it.
In short, it should be possible to use the gear to identify who was with Pinion when he di
ed. However, the technique used to extract the information was going to be a little different than that used by the Incarnates to reverse engineer a crime scene.
“So what’s next?” I asked after the others had explained the importance of Pinion’s cog.
“One of us needs to work on the gear to extract the necessary information,” Endow answered.
“I’ll do it,” Static volunteered. “I was hoping to do more to find my mother’s killer.”
“Very well,” Endow said. No sooner had she stopped speaking than the gear floated from her hand to Static, who grabbed it.
“I’ll need a bit of essence from everyone for comparative purposes,” Static remarked.
Without a word, Rune and Mariner appeared to reach up and pluck a hair from their respective heads, while Endow took one from an eyebrow.
Noticing my confused expression, Rune explained, “It’s kind of like a mystical DNA test. Each string of hair is infused with a portion of our essence. Static will compare that to what the gear contains to determine who was present when Pinion was killed.”
I nodded, reflecting on the information that had just been presented to me. Assuming the test in question was reliable, it should adequately back up my supposition as to who the murderer was — or vice versa. Regardless, it appeared as though we were going to be able to identify the killer soon.
“You, as well,” Static said to me, interrupting my thoughts.
“What?” I muttered, momentarily baffled.
“He’s asking that you provide a sample, too,” Endow clarified.
“I get that,” I groused. “I just don’t know why. Incarnates are the only suspects, and I don’t even know if I have this ‘essence’ he’s referring to.”
“It’s for exclusionary purposes only,” Static insisted.
I shook my head. “I don’t even know what that means.”
“He wants to exclude you as the killer,” Rune chimed it.
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