"I can promise you I will do everything I can to protect her, though we do not live safe lives." It was a form of kind warning.
"That is fair and honest. My daughter can take care of herself. Perhaps I should be telling her to take care of you two? I will take you to the chamber you seek now. It's close. Follow me."
Agnes wore robes covered in dust, not robes the color of dust. The catacombs were filled with books and scrolls, and the ancient paper, despite the slight dampness, gave off a terrible amount of the chalky dust that covered her. Umaryn asked her why she didn't launder the robes to make them white again, ad Agnes said it was a badge of honor. She was a Librarian Rector, and the dusty robes were her badge of office. The twins were sneezing at a regular pace the moment they reached the small side room Agnes thought would be most helpful to them. Like the passages they had been walking, it was separated by another locked gate.
The room was more a closet. Bookshelves lined the three walls of the space, each a shelf taller than the twins. The shelves were lined thick with scrolls, bound books, loose stacks of paper, and black rat droppings. In the center of the cramped room there was a rickety wooden table piled high with more unfiled papers and books. It was overwhelming.
"I'll leave you here until midday. If you've finished by then we'll leave when I take my noon lunch. If not, we'll eat together above, and return for the afternoon. Beyond that, I can't risk your presence here. I won't suffer any consequences to my career, or my family for your quest. I'm sure you understand what it is to have your family put into jeopardy. Put everything back where you found it. And I assure you, I will know if you don't." Agnes glared again.
"Thank you Agnes. We're in your debt," Umaryn said, looking at the mountain of papers all around the room. There didn't appear to be a system of organization, but the woman's threat felt very real.
"You most certainly are. I'll return in four hour's time. I wish you the luck of the ancestors." Agnes turned and walked out of the room, heading away. The sound of her soft footsteps disappeared soon after.
"Where do we start?" Umaryn asked.
Mal shrugged, "Fucked if I know. You go left, I'll go right. We work front to back looking for anything with dates before we were born. Anything with our parent's names on it."
"First one to find something good has to buy lunch when we get out of here," Umaryn challenged.
"First one to find something good gets us some closure."
- Chapter Six -
A FIRESIDE TALE
Mal and Umaryn's fingers were bleeding. Small, shallow, angry cuts from the mountains of papers they had sifted through. The tiny red lines in their fingers were already red and puffy, showing signs of infection from the rat feces and dust in the storage room. Their hands stung, their eyes watered, and the pushed on regardless.
They had been nearly silent in the tomb-like room for nearly four hours. Their mutual silence was occasionally broken by the faint crackle from the burning torches they'd lit when they arrived. Occasionally one of them would find a letter or legal document that seemed important or relevant to their search, but nothing had been concrete yet. Marriage certificates, deeds, titles, death notices, employment records, and even a few sinful love letters exchanged between a lonely Apostle in the town of Chalnell and the town of Wait Valley were there. But after all that, there was nothing about their parents.
Umaryn had given up on the loose papers on the table in the center of the room. Malwynn was knee deep in that mess, and she'd had enough. On the shelves of the dark room were ledger books, and she wanted to try her luck with those. After pulling down one of the decades old leather bound tomes, she flipped it open and started to make sense of the grid of information. Names, dates, rates of pay, start dates and end dates were all present. Each ledger contained information for approximately six months, and there were shelves of them. After flipping through the first book, she took a step back and tried to make sense of what years would be best.
"We were born in 271 right?"
"Last time I checked," Mal responded, wiping an escaped tear from a runny eye. The dust played havoc with his allergies.
"So we really don't need to be searching for 271, or probably even 270 right? I imagine that whatever connection Mom and Dad had with the Church was at least a year or two prior to our being born. That sound reasonable?"
Mal considered it. "Yeah. Maybe start in 268? Or 267PF?
PF. Post Fall. The passing of years on Elmoryn was marked by a calendar that counted the number of years since the Great Plague nearly wiped everyone out. Umaryn had never really made the connection until now. Agnes' short speech earlier that morning had cast an entirely new light on the world for her. With a sigh Umaryn crouched down low and grabbed the book for the first half of 265PF. Hopefully it'd be far enough back to yield some kind of information.
After hours of fruitless searching, it took only minutes to find her mother's name.
"Holy shit Mal. I think this is Mom. It says Catherine Chessex of Brome, Varrland. It's the only Catherine I've seen all morning. Hired with another woman named Alisanne Chessex of Brome, Varrland. Where is Brome?"
"Near the border with The Realm. To the east. I think it's right on the rails. Not too big, but a good location. It's sort of near the Eastern Wilds too I think. Well, closer than we are here at least." Mal sat down his papers and walked over to read the ledger book over his sister's shoulder.
Umaryn read aloud, "Says here the two were hired along with an Ellioth Fireborn to travel to a town in Duulan called Monroe to retrieve a Relic. They were paid a hundred Marks each. Okay first of all, who knew Mom's last name was Chessex, and Dad's last name was Fireborn? What the hell does that mean?"
"I always thought the reason why Mom and Dad wanted us to have our own last names was so we could have our individuality. Now I think it might've been because they wanted to part ways with their names. They wanted anonymity, and they didn't want to pass along whatever they did to us. I don’t want to say they lied to us Umaryn, but this feels weird."
"I agree. I'm suddenly very proud of the name Everwalk."
"Yeah. Keep looking for more stuff," Mal said as bent down to grab the next ledger.
Umaryn skimmed the following pages carefully, looking for more signs of the same name. After nearly half the book, she found another entry. "Listen to this. Ellioth, Catherine, and Alisanne all hired once more, but this time for 150 Marks plus Writs of Travel to head to Davisville for training at House Kulare. That’s the Waymancer's college Mal. Do you think they got training in The Way there?"
Mal had sat down cross legged on the floor, and he craned his head up to look at his sister. "I guess it's possible. What's the date on that? "
"Sixth month of 265PF. June."
"Check this out. Here's a record saying that 'per diem funds' were sent to the same three names to compensate them for training in Davisville. The funds were marked for living expenses for the remaining six months of training."
"Let's check the next book. I bet there's another job for them after the year of training." Umaryn put her book back and retrieved the tome she spoke of. Mal waited as she thumbed through, looking for the right date. Umaryn made a strange face after finding something notable.
"What? What is it?" Mal asked.
"Listen: another dispatch, but this time to the Eastern Wilds to—and I quote—'hunt Shadow Wolves.' The same three names, plus another one marked as Weston Fireborn. Same last name as Dad. Both Alisanne and Catherine are prefaced with the titles 'Priest.' Mom finally got ordained apparently. Get this, next to his name and Dad's are the letters WM. Do you think that stands for Waymancer? They were also paid five hundred Marks for this each. Wow that's serious cash."
"Dad a Waymancer? Naw. Can't be. He wasn't… esoteric enough. He was too grounded. Too humble. Plus he was great with a sword. No way." Mal shook his head.
"Oh come on Mal. You're gifted with a sword, plus you've had training. And, I don't need to remind you using words, but
you're a little gifted in a strange and esoteric form of The Way as well. Is it that much of a stretch to think that Dad simply kept his spellcasting out of our lives? That he hid it?"
The thought of it was enough to churn his stomach, but Mal had to nod. There were far too many secrets coming out in this room too quickly. Far too many questions brought up by the answers they were seeking. "I guess it runs in our family. Let's just keep looking. There's plenty of time for us to debate things later."
The twins returned to their task, now fully dedicated to the surprisingly revealing pay ledgers. The following years of books spelled out success after success of the four names they'd linked together. Ellioth, Catherine, Alisanne and Weston remained together as a functional unit for several years. They were paid to travel all across Varrland and Duulan, occasionally being sent south to the nation of Farmington, and even once being dispatched to the wild eastern nation of The Coastal Freelands. Neither Mal nor Umaryn could remember a single tale from most of the places their parents had apparently traveled to. A strange sense of loss and betrayal was felt by both.
Then Mal found something strange. "This one is weird. Says they were sent to a town, but look: the name of the town is blacked out by ink. And then, it says they were sent to investigate a copper mine for signs of something, but that's all blacked out too. Then, there's a note, apparently dated six month later saying that only Chaplain Alisanne returned. She was paid five thousand Marks for completion of the task, and was promoted to Cleric as a result. Note also says that the other three 'employees' were killed in the course of the appointed task, and that survivor benefits were paid to Alisanne."
"Whoa… Mom and Dad didn't die. When was that?" Umaryn asked.
"February of 270." Mal flipped forward in the book, looking for more information. "Alisanne's name comes up, but it says she switched over officially to ' on assignment.' I wonder what that means?"
"Well do the math on the date Mal. Early 270PF gives Mom and Dad enough time to make it to New Picknell, and get settled there before we are conceived. We were born at the end of 271PF. It makes a LOT of sense. I don't know what 'on assignment' means though."
"It means you've been placed at a specific temple, church or cathedral," Agnes said from the doorway.
Mal and Umaryn nearly leapt out of their skin. "Good gracious Agnes, by the ancestors you think you could've given us a fair warning you were coming?!" Mal said, sliding his dagger back into its sheath beneath his borrowed white robes.
Agnes looked apologetic, "I'm sorry. I'm used to moving amongst these old halls alone all day. I live a solitary existence down here. Have you found what you needed?"
"Can we leave? I don't want to say anything here. This place creeps me out, and I don't think anyone here overhearing anything we say will be beneficial to us," Umaryn said.
"Very well then. I'm famished, and there are many quite good food carts just outside the Cathedral grounds. I know an old man who makes stews that are to die for, and he serves them in freshly baked bowls made of bread. I think it's fair that you buy me my lunch today."
"That it is. Lead on Agnes," Mal said as he got to his feet and put his book away.
"Tell me what you found," Agnes said softly as the three sat down on a low stone wall near the sprawling cathedral gardens. They were in a secluded corner of the edge of the church grounds, meals freshly devoured, just outside the influence of the Saint's body. Lies were a possibility again. As they started their whispered conversation, the loud sounds of soldiers drilling at the nearby parade grounds could be heard in the background. The sounds of impending war.
"Does the name Alisanne Chessex mean anything to you Agnes?" Mal asked.
Agnes nodded immediately, "She's a Bishop here in Daris at the Cathedral. Very influential woman. Well known. Liked."
"Huh," Malwynn responded.
"How influential? Is she wealthy? Powerful? What does she do for the Church?" Umaryn asked.
"Bishop Alisanne works to build alliances with other Churches and organizations. She connects with other Churches across Elmoryn, builds good relationships to help further the cause of the faith. She travels for the people often."
"Does she travel to Graben at all?" Mal asked.
Agnes shook her head immediately, "Why would she? The Empire despises our faith, and since the attack on your hometown we've been building towards war. A trip to their capitol would serve no purpose that I can think of."
"Would she, or could she have a reason to meet with envoys from The Empire? Is it possible? Especially years ago?" Malwynn asked.
"Well I suppose anything is possible. Years and years ago there were many diplomatic trips back and forth when our two nations weren't ready to go to war with one another. Before the Empire started to run out of dead bodies to use. But that was decades ago."
"Two decades ago?" Umaryn suggested.
"Oh that's about when it stopped, sure," Agnes responded.
"What about the name Weston? Weston Fireborn?" Mal asked.
Agnes thought for a bit, turning her eyes briefly to the sun and clouds above searching for memory, but she returned to the twins, shaking her head slowly, "I don't think that rings a bell. We could always access more records later, though if you're afraid of being caught…" Agnes paused, her sharp mind putting it together. "Do you think your nemesis is Alisanne? Are you imagining that the Bishop is this person you seek? The one who summoned the Ancestor Spirits that tried to kill you? The person who hired the necromancer from the north? Where did you find these names?"
The twins had no answer. It was still all speculation at this point.
Umaryn found words first, "We found them in a series of pay ledgers over several years before we were born. Alisanne inherited our parent's pay when they supposedly died, as well as getting a massive paycheck of nearly five thousand Marks. She seems to have been able to travel all over, and she has what sounds like a fair amount of power and influence. She also had our mother's name. I have a hard time fathoming why some kind of family member would turn against her own kind."
Agnes suddenly looked shocked, "By the ancestors. I hadn't seen it."
The twins looked at each other, then back to Agnes. "What?" they asked in unison.
"You've the look of her. She could be your sister. Your mother. By my mother's spirit you're nearly twins."
"We're the twins," Mal said, a hint of anger in his voice. There were no other twins in their family.
"Yes you are. And as you might know, having twins runs in a family. Lightning certainly strikes more than once in this way."
Mal's mind suddenly locked into gear, and he remembered the woman from Umaryn's indoctrination. The woman that had looked like his mother. "Oh Umaryn I think she's right. There was a lady at your ceremony. She had Apostle robes. The first thing I thought of was mother, but I dismissed it as just association from memory but now, after hearing all this... I think our mother was a twin as we are."
It all made sense. It was perverse, but it made so much sense. Their mother and Alisanne were cousins at the very least, but likely twin sisters.
"What would turn two sisters against one another?" Umaryn asked.
"Love has always been a motive. They say money is the root of all evil, but I've suffered more evil by love than by money," Agnes offered.
"I think it had something to do with that copper mine they went to," Umaryn thought out loud.
"Copper mine? What was special about this copper mine?" Agnes asked.
"We don't know. Most of the details were blacked out with ink. Most of the good details as to why they were sent there were obscured. It said something along the lines of 'to find signs of something.' Or 'search for something.' I think whatever they found there drove a wedge between them. Caused a rift between them that forced Mom and Dad to run away to New Picknell. They left everything behind I bet."
"If it was blacked out, that speaks of secrecy beyond even my ken. There's very little good reason to black out anything in a pay ledg
er," Agnes said, her voice full of worry.
"So how do we find out what to do next?" Umaryn asked.
"Perhaps you could find the people who wrote the pay ledgers and ask them what they wrote originally? Were there any other names associated with your parents' names? Someone that might still be alive somewhere? Someone you could track down that might know something about what happened at that mine?"
"There was a fourth name," Mal said.
"What was it?" Agnes asked.
"Weston Fireborn. Same last name as our father. They met up at House Kulare in Davisville it would appear. Far from here in the Northern Protectorate," Mal replied.
"The College? House Kulare? Your father was related to a Waymancer perhaps. Do you think it's possible that this Weston person is still at the College there? Could you travel to meet him? Or I could arrange for a missive with The Way. Would you like that? I have a good friend in the Senders. She could send a whisper to House Kulare to find out."
"Ancestors no. We can't accept any more risk here. If we can make it back to our apartment long enough for us to gather our belongings to move we'll be lucky. If Alisanne is the woman we seek, and we don't know that yet, we need to remain as invisible as we can," Mal said.
"Up for a trip?" Umaryn asked.
"To the Northern Protectorate?" Mal asked, a hint of excitement in his voice.
"Sure. We've nothing to lose but some time. I can get us discounted tickets on the rail. I think the trip from here to there is just three or four days. If we left tomorrow we'd be there by the end of the weekend. We could spend one or two days in Davisville, then return. A week's absence, perhaps a bit more. The Guild would hardly notice me gone if I were give them a good excuse."
"I wouldn't tell them you were leaving Daris. If anyone in the Guild has loose lips, they could innocently send our enemy straight on our heels."
Umaryn nodded. "We'll need to find a place to store our belongings. Alisanne or not, whoever sent those spirits to kill us knows where we live. We can look for a new home when we get back."
The Motive for Massacre (The Kinless Trilogy Book 2) Page 8