Incarnation

by Kevin Hardman

  “Which takes us back to my earlier statement,” I stressed. “Why am I even included if the murderer is an Incarnate?”

  “Just go with it,” Rune said. “I’ll explain later.”

  Still not happy with this turn of events, I plucked a hair from my head with my thumb and forefinger. A moment later, it began to glow with a gentle amber hue, as did the hairs from Rune, Mariner, and Endow. Following this, I felt a slight tugging on the hair, like someone trying to yank it from me.

  I let it go; instead of falling to the floor, the hair went floating toward Static, as did everyone else’s. Ultimately, he had five of them in front of him. (Presumably one was his own.) I kept a close watch on mine, namely because — if this were somehow going to be determinative of who the killer was — I didn’t want there to be any confusion. (Speaking of the murderer, I kept my eye on my lead suspect, in case this turn of events caused them to do something untoward, but didn’t note them doing anything unusual.)

  Unexpectedly, something like a tiny glass case formed around each hair.

  “The analysis will take a little while,” Static said. “I’ll let everyone know when I’m done.”

  And with that, he vanished.

  Chapter 49

  “Okay, explain,” I demanded. “Exactly what do I need to be excluded from?”

  Rune and I, along with Endow, were back in our suite’s living room, where he had just transported us following the recent discussion with the other Incarnates.

  Rune seemed to ruminate for a moment, then said, “You know how Incarnates can pretty much be in two places at once?”

  “Yeah,” I conceded.

  “And how we can present a false appearance?”

  I nodded, thinking back to my encounter with the killer in my bedroom.

  “Well,” he continued, “bearing all that in mind, there’s a possibility that on the occasions when the Incarnates met with you, it wasn’t really you.”

  I concentrated, letting my brain digest that for a moment. “So you’re saying that the murderer may have pretended to be me at some point, and Static wants to identify those instances when it was actually me who was present.”

  “Correct,” Endow chimed in. “For instance, if Pinion’s cog were to show your reflection at the time he was killed, but the essence identified at that time belonged to a Chomarsus–”

  “It would mean that an Incarnate had pretended to be me,” I interjected.

  “That’s it in a nutshell,” Rune declared.

  “But if something like that happened, wouldn’t the rest of you be able to sense it?” I asked. “That is, each of you always seem to have a fix on where the others are. If the appearance changed but the essence stayed the same, wouldn’t you know?”

  “Not necessarily,” Endow stated. “If I made a copy of myself but didn’t want anyone to notice it, I might broadcast my power from the original so forcefully that it overshadows the second.”

  Seeing me wrestling with the concept, Rune said, “Think of it like the sun and moon being right next to each other. In that scenario, if you just look up during the day, you probably wouldn’t be able to tell that there are two heavenly bodies there, because the light from one will completely overwhelm what you would see from the other.”

  “Okay, I can understand that,” I said. “So is that why you guys can’t figure out who was with Gamma and the others when they were killed? The murderer is somehow masking his trail, so to speak?”

  “Basically,” Endow conceded. “But to be clear, there are other methods that will accomplish the same result, and with our current limitations, even Incarnates can’t watch for everything.”

  “We simply can’t afford to spread ourselves that thin,” Rune tacked on. “Trying to do too much can be as ineffective as doing too little.”

  “So let’s forget about the murderer for a second,” I said. “Let’s talk about the victims — what happens to their sivrrut when they die?”

  Rune and Endow exchanged a glance, then the former replied, “It dissipates. Goes back into the ether, void. Whatever you want to call it.”

  “So is there no way to pass a deceased Incarnate’s power to someone else?” I asked.

  “It just doesn’t work like that,” Rune stated. “As I mentioned before, our powers aren’t like titles or possessions — they don’t get bequeathed or passed on in the way you’re suggesting.”

  “Hmmm,” I droned, reflecting.

  “What are you thinking?” Endow asked.

  “I’m back to the question of motive,” I said. “If the murderer somehow got the power of the deceased, that might explain the killing spree. But, since that doesn’t seem likely, there’s still the question of why.”

  “Any new leads on who’s the likely culprit?” Rune inquired.

  His question caught me a little flat-footed, as I hadn’t planned to reveal the results of my research yet. After dawdling for a few seconds, I finally replied, saying, “Uh, not really. Also, if Static does the job right, it sounds like you won’t need me anymore.”

  “Perhaps,” Endow intoned.

  “Speaking of Static,” I remarked, “how do you know you can trust him?”

  “You mean, what if he’s the killer,” Rune corrected. “Never fear. We plan to double-check his work. He has to know that, and so would be a fool to try anything crazy.”

  “If he is the killer, there’s no doubt he’s crazy,” I countered. “That being the case, screwing around with some rinky-dink analysis doesn’t even tip the scales when you’re willing to murder Incarnates.”

  Endow looked as though she wanted to make a comment, but was cut off by Rune before she could utter a word.

  “Heads-up,” he said. “Looks like we have company.”

  At that moment, the doors to our suite opened (which, now that I thought about it, seemed to be a seldom occurrence). A few seconds later, Ursula walked in.

  Chapter 50

  I struggled to keep from looking nervous. I had practically forgotten about the fact that Ursula was intent on ratting me out regarding what had happened in the Cosmos Corridor. Presumably Endow had been too busy, but Ursula — being the dedicated employee that she was — had tracked her down.

  If Mohammed won’t come to the mountain… I thought.

  “Your little maneater’s here,” Rune said to Endow, who gave him a withering look.

  “Well, it’s not like I get a lot of opportunities,” Ursula shot back, “so I can’t afford to be demure and reserved when a cute guy comes along.”

  She glanced at me as she finished speaking, and I fought to keep my cheeks from turning red.

  Rune laughed. “Ha! Nobody will ever accuse you of beating around the bush.”

  “Ignore him,” Endow urged. “Now, did you need me for something?”

  Here it comes, I said to myself.

  “No,” Ursula stated, shaking her head. “I just need to speak with Jim privately for a moment.”

  Her statement gave me something of a start; I had been all but certain that she was about to apprise everyone of my misdeeds. Her statement had also seemingly come as a surprise to Endow, who exchanged a worried glance with Rune.

  “It’s fine,” Rune assured his colleague. “She’s in good hands.”

  Endow didn’t appear quite as confident as Rune, which made me wonder if there was a problem of some sort. Nevertheless, she didn’t protest when Rune stated that the two of them would be back shortly, and then they disappeared.

  Chapter 51

  We ended up sitting on the love seat, with me essentially waiting to hear what Ursula wanted to say.

  “What, no kiss ‘hello’?” she asked.

  “Not just yet,” I answered, snickering uneasily. “You said you wanted to talk.”

  “Yeah, but not about anything serious,” she intoned.

  I frowned. Ursula was undoubtedly a flirt, but I had garnered the impression that she knew how to walk the line between that and her official duties. Now it fe
lt like she had gotten Rune and Endow to excuse themselves on a pretext. Even though she seemingly hadn’t told Endow what I’d done, her actions didn’t sit well with me.

  “Maybe we should talk about what happened in the Cosmos Corridor,” I suggested. “And what you’re going to say to Endow about it.”

  “I’ll say whatever you want me to say about it,” she purred, reaching up to run a hand through my hair.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I demanded, grabbing her wrist.

  Unsure of what was going on, I reached out for her empathically, trying to get a handle on why she was acting this way. To my surprise, her emotions were all over the place: love, anger, sadness, joy, fear, and so on. Even worse, there were so many of them — and all of equal intensity — that it was impossible for me to say which was dominant and therefore directing her actions.

  Hoping for more insight, I tried reaching for her telepathically and, skimming the surface of her mind, received a shock that almost made me jump: in her mind, staring back at me, was a skeletal face with blotchy skin that I had seen once before.

  The murderer.

  Ursula let loose with something like a battle cry. At the same time, a glowing blade appeared in her free hand and she sliced at me with it.

  I shifted into super speed, and it was as though someone hit a pause button on her: she froze in place, with blade in hand, mouth open, and a crazed look in her eye. I quickly stepped back, getting out of range of what appeared to be some kind of enchanted knife.

  She was obviously under the control of the killer, and for some reason he had sent her here to deal with me.

  As if my thoughts on the subject were her cue, I saw Ursula’s jaw quiver slightly. Then, her eyes began to move in a herky-jerky fashion, while at the same time a sound like a scream — her battle cry — began emanating from her mouth. In short, her movements were accelerating to match my own.

  I shouted out telepathically.

  I didn’t receive any kind of acknowledgment — didn’t know if he’d even heard me. However, I didn’t devote too much time to thinking about it as Ursula stood and advanced on me with the glowing knife.

  Seeing no reason to take a chance, I teleported the blade from her hand to the grain fields outside the castle. I was on the verge of mentally congratulating myself on that maneuver when the blade reappeared in her grip. Or maybe it was a different one. Truth be told, it didn’t matter, but it reminded me that I wasn’t really fighting an ordinary opponent. I was up against an Incarnate.

  “Why couldn’t you just stay out of the way?” I heard the killer ask from Ursula’s throat.

  “How do you know I didn’t?” I retorted.

  Rather than respond, Ursula tried to stab me. I stood my ground but phased, and she went sprawling as the blade passed through my insubstantial form.

  “I’ve watched you,” the murderer said, as Ursula turned toward me. “You’ve made not even the slightest attempt to comply with my request.”

  Before I could reply, Ursula flung up a hand, pointing her index finger at me. Instantly, a spout of flame shot out in my direction, and a second later, I was engulfed by a conflagration. Still phased, I wasn’t harmed but noticed that I could feel some of the heat. It was a stark reminder that, given time, the killer could negate my phasing ability. I needed to find a way to end this without harming Ursula.

  Teleporting behind her, I turned substantial and then swept her legs out from under her. However, showing incredible dexterity, she contorted herself while going to the ground and threw a punch that struck me in the side. It felt like a stick of dynamite had gone off next to my rib cage.

  Pain exploded in my side, and I went flying across the room, flipping over a couch and then skidding along the floor — knocking around various pieces of furniture in the process — before snapping a couple of legs off an ornate table and coming to a halt. I groaned in pain for a moment, then shut off my pain receptors as I heard the patter of feet approaching, at the same time turning invisible.

  A moment later, Ursula appeared, wild-eyed and screaming, holding the baby grand piano over her head. It was incredibly surreal and would probably have been hilarious were the situation not so serious.

  She stared at the spot where I lay on the floor, but obviously didn’t see me. I took advantage of the opportunity to teleport to the far side of the room and climb to my feet.

  Vexed and frustrated, Ursula flung the piano into a nearby wall, where it let out a bevy of discordant notes upon impact before dropping to the floor as little more than kindling.

  Snarling like an animal, she turned around and scanned the room, obviously looking for me. On my part, I floated up into the air, staying still and quiet while pondering how to end this without Ursula (or me) getting hurt. Fortunately, the decision was taken out of my hands moments later when the cavalry arrived.

  Rune and Endow reappeared just as suddenly as they had vanished. However, they looked like they were frozen in place, and I instantly understood that they were not moving at super speed.

  Ursula apparently realized it, too, because she charged at them, the glowing blade once again in her hand. I reached out telekinetically and tripped her. Moving at super speed, she went down hard and went tumbling along the floor, a jumble of arms and legs. However, she was still headed straight at Rune, so I phased him, letting her pass through him before she banged to a stop against a wet bar. Letting out an animalistic growl, she quickly scrambled to her feet.

  By this time, Rune and Endow were starting to move, indicating that they were catching up to me and Ursula in terms of speed. Unexpectedly, Ursula let out a howl like a demon, and something on par with a whirlwind made of lightning appeared out of the blue and engulfed the two Incarnates. Spinning with frightening velocity, it flung furniture around like matchsticks while randomly shooting electrical bolts into the room.

  Without warning, the whirlwind flew apart — shattered as if it were made of glass. At the same time, Rune came dashing out of what had been its center, heading toward Ursula like a torpedo.

  “Don’t hurt her!” Endow screamed in a voice that seemed loud enough to shake the walls.

  It wasn’t clear that Rune had heard her, but rather than ram Ursula (who, from appearances, was bracing herself for impact), he unexpectedly swerved, coming up behind her. Before she had a chance to react, he placed his hands on either side of her head.

  Ursula’s response was to let out a thunderous, earsplitting scream that seemed to go on forever but was probably no more than thirty seconds at the most. When she was done, her eyes rolled back in her head and she would have slumped to the floor, but Rune caught her. A moment later, Endow was next to him, checking on her laamuffal with maternal regard.

  Turning to me, Rune asked, “You always have this effect on women?”

  Chapter 52

  As had happened following Reverb’s death, Endow took Ursula and vanished almost immediately. I then spent a moment telepathically showing Rune what had happened.

  “Ursula was under the killer’s control,” I stated after bringing him up to speed.

  “It was worse than that,” Rune said. “That whirlwind she formed was a Chomarsus creation. The killer was sending his sivrrut through Ursula.”

  I frowned. “I thought only Incarnates could handle that level of power.”

  “That’s right,” Rune confirmed. “Without mincing words, she should be dead.”

  I reflected for a moment. “Maybe she had a relic she was using.”

  “Yeah, the proper relic could store an Incarnate’s power and let someone use it,” he agreed. “We’ll have to check it out, but for now we’ll assume that’s the case.”

  “Hmmm,” I muttered. “Assuming nothing like a relic is involved, how much power do you think our killer could direct through someone he was controlling?”

  Rune shrugged. “I don’t know. We don’t really have a gauge for measuring sivrrut.”

  “But could
he direct enough power to kill a Chomarsus through another person?”

  “I doubt it,” Rune replied. “It would be like getting electrocuted — it would fry a normal person.” Then his eyes narrowed as he looked at me, and he said, “Why do you ask?”

  “Because if he could use another person to kill an Incarnate, Static’s analysis is going to be useless. It could have been anybody being sent by the murderer to do his dirty work.”

  “No,” Rune countered. “It’s still the Incarnate’s power that’s being used — even if it’s through another person — and that’s the essence that will be identified by Static.”

  “So it is still a useful analysis,” I concluded.

  “Absolutely,” Rune said. “And now it’s time to see how useful, so get your game face on.”

  Chapter 53

  We met up in a spacious room that had as its most notable feature an oversized executive table, which we all took a seat around. Unlike last time, the table was large enough for everyone to spread out a little. As a result, no one sat right next to anyone else, but the empty chairs were a grim reminder of those who were no longer with us.

  As was previously the case, I sat at the head of the table. On the left side, a few chairs down, was Static; a few chairs away from him sat Mariner. Directly across from Mariner was Rune. At the moment, however, we were missing Endow, who — as best we knew — was still getting Ursula situated. Presumably she would take a seat between me and Rune, across from Static.

  Truth be told, I felt odd sitting at the head of the table. We were really here to get information from Static, so by my account it should be him at the head rather than me. However, Rune had insisted that I take that particular spot, and I hadn’t felt like arguing.

  I looked around the table, trying not to appear anxious. In very short order, Endow would arrive, following which we were likely to unmask a killer. Wondering how the others felt, I reached out empathically. As always, I didn’t pick up anything from Mariner or Rune, but Static was practically on pins and needles — nervous, anxious, eager, and more. (Of course, he purportedly knew the identity of the killer, so it was only natural that he was apprehensive.)