“What do you mean, ‘rearrange things’?” Winter asked.
“You can affect them in all manner of ways, from how the subject thinks to whom the subject has feelings toward and what those feelings are, to the subject’s control over its body, and more. But that affectation is the result of rearranging on your part. You have to know a thing before you reorganize it.”
“To destroy, I must first know love,” Winter said.
Kali cocked her head. Those words sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite place them. “What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing.” Winter shook her head. “Acumency sounds much more difficult than telesis.”
Kali shrugged. “I’m sure it is, in many ways. But once you make those first connections, once you decipher and rearrange your first sifts, it becomes easier. Intuitive. Now, are you ready to try accessing your tendra again?”
“I don’t know,” Winter said quietly, looking off into the distance.
“I can’t truly begin to teach you how to use acumency until you access them, Winter. Knowledge helps, but not unless you can put it to use.” It took all of Kali’s discipline to not force the girl. If Winter only knew how patient she was being, perhaps she would give Kali the benefit of the doubt.
The two sat for a while, coasting in the Void. Kali did not feel the same pull to Winter herself as she did to her dark-light. While the ebbs and flows of the Void nudged and pulled at them gently as they sat facing one another, neither Kali nor Winter moved very far. The darkness flowed around them, the effect of the Void’s aether causing their clothing to shift gently, their hair to expand and flow in all directions. The underwater effect, Nazaniin scholars called it. Winter’s long black hair twisted and writhed above her head, almost as if it had a life of its own.
“What is a Harbinger?” Winter finally asked.
Kali blinked. That, of all questions, was not one she had expected. “Where did you hear that word?” She had been careful not to discuss the Harbinger with Nash whenever Winter had been around to hear.
“I… I don’t know. It’s in my dreams, sometimes, and in the air here, it seems. Between us. What does that word mean?”
“In the aether,” Kali said, absentmindedly. The girl could sense that concept in the aether?
“What’s the aether?”
Kali peered at Winter, fighting the compulsion to delve this girl immediately, while she still had tendra to do it, to find out what in Oblivion was going on in her head.
“The aether is the chief substance of the Void. The stuff between stars.”
“The darkness?”
Kali shrugged. “Not exactly. It’s like the air we breathe on the Sfaera, but different.”
“How do you know it is different than air? Have you tested it?”
“That is a discussion for another day. As far as the Harbinger is concerned…” Kali hesitated. She couldn’t think of a reason to hold back. Might as well tell the girl. “There is not much to say. The Nazaniin prophecies say that the Harbinger will be a powerful psimancer—perhaps the most powerful to ever live. Her—or his—title implies she will be the forerunner of something, but the prophecies are not clear on what.”
“You have no theories?”
Kali laughed. “Everyone in the Nazaniin has theories about the Harbinger. Some say she will usher in the Rising, the era of the Nine Daemons—or that she has something to do with Canta. Others think her presence is not so significant, that she will simply herald a new era. A few think she simply brings death.”
“Death?”
“The end of all things.”
Winter stared off into the Void for a moment. Kali couldn’t blame her. That last one had always sent chills down her spine.
“And you think it’s me.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You do. You think it’s me.”
Kali shrugged. “I don’t think anything. But I know the Triad thought it was you.”
“Thought?”
Kali sighed. “Yes, and I’m quite sure they still do. I overheard them talking a few months ago.”
“How could you have overheard that? You’ve been in the Void.”
“Traveling is not difficult here. Once you move in a direction, you keep going at an accelerated rate until you choose to stop. It’s actually much easier to travel through the Void than it is the real world. There are no obstacles, no mountains or rivers or storms to weather.”
Kali thought, just for a moment, about telling Winter about the strange shrouds she had seen: the violet one in Triah, the blue one somewhere along Khale’s western coast, and the dark one around Izet. But she thought better of it. Best to keep some information to herself. Until she knew what those shrouds were, it mattered little.
“I…” Winter’s form flickered. “I’m sorry, Daval is calling for me. I need to—”
And then Winter was gone.
With Winter went Kali’s physical form. She would have sighed if she had a body to do it with. She anxiously awaited each visit Winter took into the Void, if only because it granted her physical form temporarily.
Kali began moving, though it took a great deal of effort. Winter’s pull was strong. She had seen the shroud in Khale up close, and she saw the shroud around Izet all the time, but she had only seen the one on the western coast in passing. Perhaps, if she investigated it a bit more, she might find some clue as to what it actually was.
She spotted the strange form easily from a distance, and directed her motion towards it. It appeared larger than when she had last seen it, on her way back from Triah. It was an opaque shade of light blue, and it encompassed a large area that Kali realized, as she approached it, was likely the town of Tinska. She had been through it before, but never taken more than a passing interest. It was not a large town; why one of these strange shrouds would be focused on Tinska of all places was beyond her.
As she approached the shroud, Kali slowed her movement. She yearned to see how the shroud would interact with her when she had her body, when Winter was around. The shroud did not change at all as Kali passed through it, and once she was inside the veil, not much was different, other than everything acquiring a faint bluish tint. Kali passed in and out of the shroud a few times for good measure. Still no effect. The edge of the phenomenon shimmered and waved, sometimes bright and glowing, other times barely visible against the aether. Up close, however, the shimmering waves of the shroud appeared more like tiny wisps of light, like the stars of the Void but infinitely smaller.
The shroud was odd, indeed. But looking at it closely, Kali saw no difference from the other two shrouds she had encountered, and thus nothing new to learn.
Like the Triah and Izet shrouds, this one was roughly spherical in shape. The veil bubbled outward, covering thousands of stars that made up the people of Tinska in the real world. The stars abruptly stopped at a location Kali knew to be the western coast of Khale. Beyond that was only ocean. If the border of the shroud told her nothing perhaps she might find something at the center; Kali began moving in that direction.
As Kali moved inward, keeping track of the veil borders around her, she realized that the city of Tinska wasn’t exactly in the center of the shroud, as she had presumed. As she moved through the town, star-lights passing all around her, she saw the center was a bit south of the town, in a cluster of a few hundred stars. Kali did not know what this was—a gathering of some kind? She did not remember a settlement this large to the south of the town.
Kali stopped moving.
There, in the midst of the crowd of stars to the south of Tinska, was something she had never seen before. The stars of the Void, each representing a person, were simple things. Each represented a very complex being, and each had its own beauty, but appeared as nothing more than a colorful point of light.
What she saw now was certainly not that.
Kali could see a rose-colored star that seemed to be right at the center of the veil around Tinska, but this star was differ
ent. Around the point of light buzzed layer after layer of small spherical shrouds. She had searched for such a thing in Izet, but had found nothing. Nothing like this, anyway.
There was only one thing to do now. Slowly, Kali stretched one of her tendra out to the rose-colored star. It was time to get some answers.
Kali delved into the strange star with her tendron, and gasped. An image of a face blurred into her vision. A man, walking through grass. A man whom Kali recognized. She knew him as Lathe, but, as he had emphasized so intently before he killed her, his name was now Knot.
Kali withdrew her tendron. She stared at Knot’s star in the Void for a few moments, dumbfounded, until she made her decision. Quickly, she began moving back towards Izet, Winter’s immolating darkness helping to draw her back.
She did not know whether Knot’s star was the source of the strange shroud or not. It did not seem to be. His star and the shroud were not even the same color, for one. Psimancers still knew very little about what each color in the Void represented, but there appeared to be latent relationships between certain colors. Knot’s star was a pink, rosy color, while the shroud around Tinska was blue. Even so, Knot’s potential relationship to the shroud couldn’t be ruled out. It was odd that Kali had not found anything similar in Izet; she wished she had looked for something at the center of the shroud in Triah, too.
But the relationship between Knot and the shroud, if there was one at all, did not matter at the moment. Knot was alive. Winter thought he was dead. This was information Kali could use, it was leverage. This was something that could help her.
If she could, Kali would have smiled the rest of the way back to Izet.
39
Harmoth estate
CINZIA SMILED AS THE group of Odenites filed out of the house, waving as they left. She could tell that they appreciated being invited into the Oden home, and even more so meeting Cinzia, Elessa, Ocrestia, and of course the Prophetess herself in person. It was what they had come here for, after all, and Cinzia could sense their gratitude. Which was why she felt more than a little guilty about her true motivation for the invitation.
She had discussed her misgivings with Jane beforehand, of course, and to Cinzia’s surprise, Jane had reassured her. What had gone unsaid, and what Cinzia still thought now, was that while saying they were doing this for the Odenites was all well and good, Cinzia couldn’t shake the feeling that she was betraying them.
When the last Odenites had left, Wyle shook his head, as he had for the previous groups.
“Nothing?” Cinzia asked, disappointed. It was silly to have such high expectations after every session, but she couldn’t help it. If they didn’t get any information, the violations would be in vain.
“Nothing of note,” Wyle said, “and certainly no assassins.”
Cinzia sighed. “Are you all right?” she asked. “Have you rested enough after yesterday?” This was the first session that morning, but he had delved through five groups the previous day.
Wyle smiled. “I’m just fine. A good night’s rest does wonders, even for a drained psimancer.”
Cinzia smiled hesitantly in return, not sure what to say to that.
“I’m sorry,” Wyle said, “am I making you anxious? I don’t mean to.”
“It’s just… I did not expect you and your friends to be so… so open about your magic.”
Wyle laughed. “We aren’t, normally. But Knot knows about us, as does the vampire. And while we don’t like sharing information with representatives of the Cantic Denomination, it doesn’t look like you’ll be reporting to them anytime soon.”
The words hurt more than Cinzia would have expected. She looked at the ground. “No, I’m no longer a part of the Denomination, though I have not received my papers of excommunication yet.”
“Oh, Goddess, look, I… I’m sorry. I’m just trying to make conversation, I did not mean to bring up something uncomfortable. I should have realized.”
Cinzia shook her head. “No, don’t blame yourself, it is something I should have dealt with by now.” She wondered whether it really was something she should be over by now, but it sounded nice when she said it. “But,” she added, “I have to admit it is hard to trust a man who could potentially discern my thoughts at any moment.”
Wyle nodded. “That, I can understand. But I did make a promise.”
“You made it to Knot, and he is not yet convinced of your commitment.”
“Then I’ll make another one to you, right now. I promise, I will not delve you or any of your family. No one except who I am told to delve. I might’ve been flippant with Knot, but that was before… that was before I really understood what was happening here.”
Cinzia looked at Wyle through narrowed eyes. He seemed sincere. But did that mean Cinzia could believe him? She was having enough trouble trusting Canta. How could she trust one imperfect man?
“Look, Cinzia… do you mind if I call you Cinzia?”
I don’t know what other name I could go by anymore. “Sure,” Cinzia said.
“I admire what you’re doing here. I’m not sure about Canta, never have been. And my particular vocation makes it difficult to associate with the Denomination in any way. But… I think what you’re doing is brave. Standing up against the Denomination, leaving it, for Canta’s sake, and supporting your sister. That takes a lot of courage.”
Cinzia blinked, looking up at Wyle. “I… thank you,” was all she managed to say.
“You’re incredibly beautiful, Cinzia.”
Cinzia’s eyes widened. She took a deep breath. “Wyle, you’re very kind, but I should go find Jane, make sure things are ready for the next group…”
Wyle took a step closer to her. He was smiling, and Cinzia did not sense any overt threat from the man—although she was suddenly very aware of how much larger than her he was—but… she was not sure how to describe her feeling, other than her insides squirming together all at once. In sort of a good way. “I know that priestesses can’t have intimate relationships, but… you aren’t a priestess anymore, are you?” Wyle looked down. “I hope I’m not being too bold.”
“No,” Cinzia said, her mind racing. “You’re not being too bold.” She had always had her Trinacrya to shelter her from the advances of men, but now… now she had nothing to hide behind.
Cinzia did not like that thought.
“Actually, yes,” Cinzia said. She raised her chin, looking up at him once more. “I think you’re being too bold, Wyle. I appreciate your attention, but this is neither the time nor place. I have work to do, as I said, and so do you. Now, if you’ll let me find my sister.”
Wyle nodded, and Cinzia was surprised to see his face turning red. Not from anger, though. He seemed genuinely sorry. Embarrassed, even. He was a handsome man, with a strong frame and jawline. His hair, thick and brown, hung loosely over bright green eyes.
“I did not mean to overstep my bounds. You will not hear such talk from me again, Cinzia, forgive me.”
“It’s… it’s fine,” Cinzia said. He had not really done anything offensive, had he? He was interested in her, that was all, and truth be told Cinzia did not mind that.
You let him off just fine, Cinzia told herself. You were kind, but firm.
“Er… Cinzia? Are you all right?”
Cinzia looked up, realizing she had been lost in her own head. “Yes! Yes, thank you, Wyle. Thank you for the report. I shall speak with you again soon.”
Cinzia turned and walked away, until she realized she was heading toward the kitchen. Jane was in the opposite direction. She turned and retraced her steps, giving Wyle an awkward smile as she passed by him again. She made her way to the drawing room where Jane was waiting for her, along with Elessa, Ocrestia, and Knot.
“Anything?” Knot asked, raising his head.
Cinzia shook her head, her eyes on Jane. Part of her wanted to take her sister aside and tell her all about what had just happened. She wanted to tell Jane that a man had just approached her with… what? C
inzia had no idea what, but telling her sister felt like the natural thing to do.
Jane, a man just made an offer of courtship. To me. And it was Wyle! Can you believe it? What was he thinking? What was I thinking? It had not even crossed my mind that this sort of thing would happen when I left the Denomination, I do not even know how to handle this…
“No assassins? Nothing else of note?”
Cinzia blinked at Knot. Her conversation with Jane would have to wait. If she could ever have it at all. “No assassins. Nothing else of note.”
Knot nodded. “Very well. The next group should be coming in any moment. Is everyone ready?”
The sessions had run in a relatively uniform fashion so far, with Cinzia welcoming the Odenites into their home. Ocrestia would then address them briefly, speaking of her faith in Jane and Canta. Her speech was relatively similar in each session. Then Jane would address the people, but to Cinzia’s surprise her sister’s address was different every time. In one session she had spoken of how difficult it must have been for all of them to come so far, and how Canta would bless them for their efforts. In the next she had spoken of some passages from the Codex they had translated, and how important that work was. And in yet another she had spoken of mending family ties that were coming loose, or that had been broken. Cinzia had asked Jane why she chose to speak on different topics, and Jane had only laughed and said that she was glad Canta guided her and that she did not have to think of them herself.
To end the session Elessa would offer a prayer, after which the people were allowed a few moments to speak with Cinzia, Jane, Elessa, and Ocrestia, and then were ushered out the door to make way for the next group.
“Have I been doing my part well?” Ocrestia asked. “I know I say basically the same thing every time… Do you think the people accept me?”
“If they don’t, they need to learn,” Jane said.
“From what I’ve observed,” Cinzia said, placing a hand on Ocrestia’s shoulder, “you impress them. They certainly accept Jane as their Prophetess, and seem to accept you as a disciple quite readily. They may have their misgivings, but as Jane said, let them. Those feelings will change as they get to know you—and if they do not, they will have to answer to Canta.”
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