Compendium

by Alia Luria

  “Who’s there?” she asked. She sprang to her feet and looked around.

  “Do not be alarmed. Our direct link has been established,” repeated the smooth voice. “Auditory communication is now possible.”

  “Are you telling me the voice I hear is Compendium?” Mia asked.

  “Affirmative,” said the voice. “Auditory interface is available for Beta Level access.”

  She covered hers ears and said, “This is very unsettling.” She paced around the room with her hands plastered over her ears.

  “Auditory communication is more efficient and convenient for most tasks. Please explain what you mean by ‘unsettling.’”

  Even with her footsteps echoing through the chamber, Compendium’s voice was clear as a pond on a sunny day.

  “Never mind,” Mia said, taking her hands from her ears. It didn’t seem to make a difference anyway. “So now you can talk directly to me. That’s lovely. Can everyone hear our conversation?”

  “Negative,” said Compendium.

  Well, that’s a relief, she thought. It was short-lived, however.

  “Others hear only you speaking.”

  “Oh, excellent. So for all intents and purposes, I’ll sound like I’ve descended into madness. That’ll convince the clerics to free me, certainly. What else does Beta Level offer?” Mia asked, almost afraid to know.

  “The wireless interface also has been activated,” said the voice. It was so calm and neutral that it was hard to discern a gender. Mia always had imagined that residing inside Compendium was a tiny, snarky old man.

  “Voice modulation complete,” said the calm voice of an old man in her ear.

  “You can read my mind?” she shouted. “Could you do that all along?”

  “I can access your thought patterns now that you have completed Beta Level activation. I could not always do so.”

  “Mind asking permission first?” she said out loud, although clearly that wasn’t necessary.

  “Why?” asked Compendium in her ear. “That would be most inefficient. Additionally now you don’t have to walk around sounding mad, and you’re free to utilize me while using both hands for other tasks.”

  Mia realized she was pacing around while the book was still on the mattress. How far away can I be and still establish communication?

  “I am capable of unlimited range,” said the old man in her head.

  All right, all right. Change your voice back, please.

  “As you wish,” said Compendium in its original neutral voice. The tone was emotionless yet comfortingly calm.

  Really, though, you do seem snarkier in writing.

  “I apologize,” said the voice in her ear.

  Now that I’ve activated Beta Level access, can you tell me anything additional about my family?

  “What would you like to know?” Compendium replied.

  She took a deep breath and wrung her hands in her tunic. What is my full name?

  “Mia Jayne SainClair,” said the voice.

  “What?” she exclaimed out loud. She felt the blood drain from her head and her limbs grow shaky. She stumbled over to the mattress and sat down hard before her knees buckled. The breath left her lungs with a whoosh, and she had trouble regaining it. When she finally was able to speak again, she said, “SainClair? That can’t be right.” She picked up Compendium. “Show me my family tree.”

  The book presented a vaguely familiar diagram. It was from the exhaustive list of lineages she recalled. She had looked up Brother SainClair the night she had activated Compendium. There was his family tree again. She swallowed hard when her eyes found the sigil of the owl and the lotus flower near the top of the page. And it came rushing back to her. This was the first place she had seen that design. How could I be so thick? And his sister was named Jayne. “Compendium, was Jayne SainClair my mother?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Affirmative,” said Compendium in her ear.

  Compendium inked in the name Claude next to Jayne and drew a line below to Mia Jayne. That made her uncle Thaddeus SainClair. She felt as if she’d been punched in the gut.

  Pretender, rasped his raw, hate-filled voice in her head. You’re not my niece. You’re an impostor. You dishonor my sister’s memory with your presence.

  His intense hatred for her made sense now. He thought his niece was dead and she was an impostor. Father should have warned him, she thought, or at least warned me.

  30 Great Hall

  Lumin Cycle 10152

  After her deluge of visitors, Mia was largely left to her own devices. At first she counted the days by scratching marks into the stone wall but quickly shifted to asking Compendium the date and time and how long it had been since she’d last asked. Time passed painfully slowly. Minutes felt like hours and hours like days. She tried to keep it in perspective, but too much time to think and not enough physical activity muddled her mind. She paced and exercised, trying to strengthen her increasingly frail body. She had the occasional visitor, usually after the midday meal, and spent time exploring Compendium further, practicing communicating with it using her mind and testing the limits of its capabilities.

  It wasn’t able to, for instance, unlatch the bolt on the other side of the door, as it was a purely mechanical lock with no current. It could, however, access the gourds on the vines and snuff them by redirecting the current. It also could light them. At first these explorations and challenges occupied her mind and body, but she grew increasingly restless and uneasy.

  “You have to retrieve the Shillelagh,” Brother Cornelius had instructed her. “You have to make amends.”

  But the clerics had presented her with an opportunity to do neither. While she sat there rotting, the Druids had the Shillelagh, and Mia hesitated to think what use they were making of it.

  After a full week of near solitude, her routine was finally interrupted. Brother Borus came to her cell and poked his head in. His voice held little of the earlier gruff anger, and she was relieved. “Yer to present yerself before an assembly of the clerics in the main hall,” he said. “But first the Dominus has suggested ye might do with a bath an’ change of clothes. That right there might have to be burned frankly.” He poked a finger at her tropics garb, which had gone from dingy to filthy in recent weeks.

  “But it’s my only clothing left from home,” she said sadly.

  “Och,” he scoffed. “Is that yer concern then?” He waved his hands flippantly in her direction. “Yer things have all been brought from Hackberry. Is that what ye call it?”

  Mia nodded, surprised. All her belongings had been transported to the Order? She pictured her empty hearthtree, and a quiet sorrow settled over her. Her life with Father no longer had any physical representation. She likely never would see Old Parniff and the others of Hackberry again.

  “What about Hamish?” she asked, suddenly thinking of her poor pup.

  “Eh?” he grunted, looking at her funny.

  “Hamish,” she repeated, “my dog.”

  “Oh, that mangy bucket of fur an’ teeth?” he said, scowling deeply. “That mutt of yers is here too. Right foul beast, ’tis,” he said, holding up a muslin-wrapped hand. “That creature has as much sense as ye, I reckon, biting the hand ’at cooks its supper. I’ve a mind to cook it fer supper if it don’t watch its step, ye hear?”

  Mia suppressed a smile at Brother Borus’s words. Hamish is alive! “I apologize, Brother Borus,” she said, covering her mirth with contrition. “He really is terribly good. He is, I’m sure, feeling scared and alone just now.”

  “Aye,” he replied gruffly and nodded. “Well, then, let’s be off. I’ll take ye to the sisters to sort ye out then and be back to see ye to the assembly.”

  “No shackles?” she asked.

  “Dinna even try me, missy,” he said, directing her through the door. She hesitated for a moment, throwing a glance back at the pallet where Compendium was hidden among the folds of the blanket.

  “Can I take the blanket?” she as
ked. “It’s rather cold in these clothes.”

  Brother Borus rolled his eyes at her. “Just grab the book if that’s what yer about,” he said, and turned toward the door. Her jaw slackened as she gaped at his retreating figure. Snapping to her senses, she quickly threw back the blanket and retrieved Compendium, stuffing it into the belt that secured her tunic, and followed Brother Borus out the door and down the hall.

  “How did you know?” she asked when she caught up to the old brother. Despite his age, he moved with quick, resolute purpose. Mia had to take double steps to keep up.

  “Oh, so ye thought no one noticed ye suddenly talking to yerself in there, missy? We ain’t got lead in our ears, ye ken?”

  She smiled. Well, she supposed it was an improvement over their assuming she was daft. Brother Borus escorted her to the laundry, where Sister Valencia was waiting with Iris, one of the other acolytes. Borus left Mia there and told Sister Valencia he would be back to collect her in exactly forty-five minutes.

  “Well, then we’d best be quick,” said Sister Valencia, giving Mia a once-over and wrinkling her nose. She picked up Mia’s matted braid and held it out as if it were diseased. Perhaps it was. “This,” she said, gesturing to the tangled lump in her hand, “is goin’ ter take some time.”

  “Snap to it, ladies,” Borus offered over his shoulder as he departed.

  “All right, all right,” Sister Valencia said. “Out er those rags. I see no point in even launderin’ them. They’ll go straight ter the solvent and be added ter the scrap pile. Hurry now. We have ter get ye inter some water and start workin’ on that hair.”

  Mia reluctantly shrugged out of her clothing, stripping down to her smallclothes.

  “Those too,” Sister Valencia snapped. “Especially those. How unhygienic.”

  Even in the barracks, where changing was commonplace, Mia had managed to avoid this level of display with the others. Still, the temptation of the steaming tub of water was excellent motivation, and she soon was settling herself into the hot bath wearing nothing but her mother’s locket. Every muscle in her body tensed then slowly melted with relaxation as the heat penetrated her skin and muscles, all the way to her bones.

  “All right.” Sister Valencia clucked. “Ye need ter dunk under now. We have ter soap up that hair and see if we can work out those tangles.” Mia submerged herself under the hot water and raked her face with her fingers. She surfaced for a breath with a splash and sighed loudly, sputtering.

  “I feel as if I haven’t been clean for ages,” Mia said. “’Tis glorious.”

  Iris giggled, but Sister Valencia frowned. “Now there, we donna have time fer shenanigans.” She pulled Mia’s braid from the bathwater, which was quickly growing murky. “Yer filth is truly impressive,” she said. Her lips formed a severe slash on her plain face as she set upon the task of unbraiding and detangling Mia’s hair while Mia scrubbed herself clean. In between yelps and squeals as the comb tore through the matted hair, Iris chatted.

  “Where have you been, Mia?” she asked shyly.

  “Ah, I assumed everyone knew what happened,” Mia said, shooting a glance at Sister Valencia. She gave Mia a pointed look then returned to her task. “Well, I’ve been locked up in the dungeon.”

  “What?” said Iris, stammering. “You’ve been…”

  “Yes,” Mia said in response to Iris’s trailing words. “I’ve been locked up in the dungeon. And now I have a feeling I’m on my way to plead my case to the clerics and beg their forgiveness.”

  Sister Valencia nodded curtly and continued raking the comb through her hair. “It may not be possible ter save all this hair,” the sister said, a frown crossing her face. “How attached ter it are ye?”

  Apart from it growing out of her head in a color that turned heads and embarrassed her, Mia’d never given it much thought. It grew, and she braided it to keep it out of the way. “It’s just hair,” she said. “It keeps growing.”

  “Blast it all! Yer shoulda said so from the get-go. We can just cut it off!”

  Mia shrugged. “Do what you will, as long it’s not in my face.”

  Iris’s eyes grew round. “Are you certain?” She fingered her own brown curls. “I’d be devastated if someone lopped off my hair.”

  “Oy,” Sister Valencia said with a scowl. “I’ll not be taking an ax to her. ’Tis just a haircut. You, Iris, would do well ter give a ken ter what’s important.” She got up from where she knelt and left the room for a moment, returning with a pair of shiny shears. “These are fer sewing,” she said. “They’re nice and sharp, and I shall only take what’s needed.”

  Mia sat as still as a garden statue in the tub of dark, cloudy water while Sister Valencia worked with her hair. The shears made a slicing sound, and scraps of tangled hair plopped down around her. The sister stopped every few snips and combed through various sections. She worked like that until the comb ran from Mia’s scalp all the way down through her hair.

  “There now,” she said, wiping her brow. “That’ll do. Given the ample quantity of hair ye trudged in here with, ye still have a bounty left. Plenty ter tie back. Mind you, ’tis not all the same length now. Dip down again. Time ter give it all a good wash and get you dressed. I suspect Brother Borus will be back any moment.”

  Mia dunked her head in the water one last time. Sister Valencia scrubbed her soapy hands across Mia’s scalp with impressive determination, and when it was all finished, she had Mia stand and commanded that Iris dump a bucket of cold water over her head. Mia howled and shivered and grasped urgently for the heavy cloth proffered by Sister Valencia. She wrapped herself tightly and stepped from the basin, dancing as her feet touched the cold stone floor. With haste the ladies handed her clothes and helped her plait her hair back. When Sister Valencia placed the looking glass in front of Mia, she was clean and pink. Her hair was wet but braided and fell to her shoulder blades rather than her waist. Even with the dampness, it felt much lighter. She was robed once again as an acolyte.

  “Could you hand me that book?” Mia asked Iris, who stood off to her side. She gestured toward a low stool where Compendium lay.

  Iris picked it up, turning it over. “What is it?” she asked.

  “It is my birthright,” Mia said, plucking Compendium from Iris’s hands. She tucked it into her sash and felt the familiar weight and balance of it and its warmth against her belly. “Ah, this feels much better,” she said, smiling into the glass. “And much lighter,” she added, shaking her head back and forth.

  Mia hadn’t been back to the Great Hall since her initial audience with Dominus Nikola. Today it appeared that every cleric in the Order was assembled for the proceeding. She steadied her shaking hands in the folds of her sash and stood facing the dais with her back rigid and upper body locked into place. Dominus Nikola was seated in his seat of prominence, centered on the dais at the front of the room. He was flanked by Brother Cornelius on one side and Brother SainClair on the other. All three men sat silently, although Brother Cornelius gave Mia an almost imperceptible wink. Or perhaps he just had something in his eye. Her eyes moved over to SainClair, who wore his usual stony expression, his eyes holding no hint of a smile.

  For some reason, she hoped that his just knowing he was her uncle would change something between them. Looking at him now, she held little hope for such a miracle. His time in the hospital clearly had worn on him. His face appeared even more bloodless than usual, and his features looked exaggerated in their sharpness. Mia tried to keep her expression neutral as her eyes slid over the general congregation. She spotted Cedar among the assemblage, as well as Sister Valencia and Brother Valentine. It appeared as if everyone’s duties were to be put on hold for this public…reprimand? Denunciation? Sentencing? Mia was remarkably fuzzy on the details, although she knew Brother Borus and Sister Valencia expected some sort of apology and possibly begging to occur. Mia rather suspected that such was the collective sentiment of the Order just then. She would try not to disappoint.

  When ever
yone was gathered, Dominus Nikola cleared his throat. When that action failed to quell the chatter among the group, he thumped his staff against the stone floor of the dais. The sound echoed through the cavernous chamber.

  “All right,” he said in a loud, clear voice, “now that we’re all assembled, let us get to the business at hand. Ms. Jayne, before we continue any further, do you have something you wish to say to the group?”

  “Yes,” she said. “And you may call me Ms. SainClair.” She echoed Dominus Nikola’s tone and amplitude. She would be blasted to the Core before she would let herself sound meek today. Brother SainClair twitched slightly at the use of her newly revealed family name. It sounded foreign to her as well.

  “Indeed,” he said, a small glint in his eye. “Well, then, do you, Ms. SainClair, have something you wish to say to the clerics assembled today?”

  “Yes,” said Mia. “I wish to ask for the forgiveness from all those assembled here today. I have no explanation that can justify my actions. I can only say I betrayed those here who placed their trust in me, and the Order has suffered a great loss because of my actions. All I ask is that you provide me the opportunity to make amends for my transgressions.”

  A low murmur rippled through the crowd as she spoke, and when she fell silent, the volume of the conversations increased again. Dominus Nikola sat silently for a moment before raising a withered hand and sternly saying, “Silence!” The voices immediately died down.

  “So,” he continued, “you stand before us and give a brief apology, and all is to be forgiven? Why should the Order accept you back into its ranks? You wear those robes, but you haven’t given any explanation as to why you deserve their honor. You haven’t told us what meaning the Order holds for you.”

  “Would you have me bare a vein and open it for you?” Mia asked, feeling slightly defensive. If her apology wasn’t sufficient, what did they want from her?

  Dominus Nikola sprang to his feet and pounded his staff against the stone floor once again. Her eyes widened at the display.