“Its like runes? Like imprints?”
“Don’t know words. Make harness, make shapes. Does a job.”
“So, they make these harnesses, inscribe them with runic imprints, and they can perform a single type of Source cast on their own?”
Fur shrugged, then slipped his arm back in the blanket, pulling it up to his chin again from the inside.
“Ok. So they are taking the Blight crystal to where they do all these things. But, you don’t know why.”
Is he being honest?
“Not Fiher’s job.”
Shara noted the lilt in the middle of Fur’s name and tried to imitate it. “Fee-ruh?”
“Fiher.”
“Fee-her?”
A deep, guttural series of grunts burst from Fiher. He’s laughing at me!
“Fiher!”
“Fiher?”
He laughed again.
She laughed with him this time, “I’ll just stick with Fur.”
“Fur good.”
Shara could feel the genuine happiness, bordering on admiration, coming from him. No, he would not hurt her, just like he hadn’t ten years ago. “I need to know what they are doing with the crystals. Is there any way you could find out?”
“Could go lab. Long time for—” he tilted his head again, searching for what to say, “knowing.”
Shara thought over his words, “It’ll take a while to get there. You may not find out any time soon?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Half moon.”
The measurement of time made no sense to her. What was a moon, let alone half of it? “That must be a long time. I’ll take your word on it.”
“Want Fur go?”
“I think so. I’ll need to find you a LightTab, so you can communicate with me.”
“Bodies have.”
“What?”
“Xenai killed. One had a Tab.”
Why?
“Interesting—but that will work. We can go search them in the morning and see if it’s still functional.”
Fiher nodded.
“Alright,” Shara stood, “I should get back to doing my actual watch duty. And I’ll have to come up with a way to convince the others that this isn’t a bad idea.”
“You boss.”
“Yes, but hierarchy doesn’t mean loyalty.”
Fur tilted his head then shrugged again, “Not sure of word.”
Shara laughed at him this time, “Someday we’ll be able to talk better than this.”
“You learn Xenaran?”
She laughed harder, “I don’t think I am capable of speaking Xenaran. You do well with what common you know, though. If we live through all this, maybe I can teach you more.” She felt his smile again.
“Is good.”
She smiled and stood to leave the tent. As she pushed the flap to the side, Fiher spoke again, “Shara go home. Unsafe out here. Xenai many want and Shara is way.”
She looked back at him, “I am the way?”
He only nodded, then tilted his head as if thinking.
“I can’t go home—not yet. Soon.”
Shara felt the anxiety from him.
“Xenai seek promises in Shara. Cannot let.”
“It’ll be okay.” She smiled at him and left the tent, sitting on the same rock Melana had chosen. The cold stone instantly penetrated what little warmth she had. She slid to the far back edge and brought her legs up onto the stone, crossing them in front of her to balance herself with the smallest amount of contact with the rock.
She thought back over the conversation with Fiher, which reminded her of her missing amulet. She closed her eyes and looked for the Intuitive feeling of Source stones nearby. There was nothing in her tent, only the faint recognition of a single weak moonstone from Taeri’s tent.
Shit.
52
Tani
The glaring light slammed into Tani’s eyes as she emerged through the broken doors, out of the Underground. Placing her hand above her eyes, she waited until she could see before continuing on her way. She was running late. It was easy to forget the things she didn’t want to do. Delilah should have agreed to meet Mrs. Tatlock, not her. She dreaded the impending awkwardness.
She needed to keep her hold on her patients, now that the Hierophant would try to steal them all away.
“You are the mind behind all this. I am just your assistant, to them. I can’t convince them that the Hierophant’s offer of training will backfire on them, but they might listen to you.” Delilah had said when Tani had asked her to take the meeting for her. Tani had scoffed at Delilah’s attempt to diminish her role in the project until she turned to Vin, who was bouncing his head up and down in agreement behind a slice of pizza.
“They will listen to you—maybe. You can be convincing... sometimes.”
Thanks, Vin.
She moved across the busy streets of the outdoor market. The pastry stall she was meeting Mrs. Tatlock at was on the farthest side, through the street lined with a hundred tented stalls. The hopeful merchants manned each booth. They waved their goods at by-passers, but ignored Tani. Why would an Underground brat have any credits to spend? Wary glances came from those that noticed her.
She tossed her head up and walked with purpose, resisting the urge to make a superfluous purchase just to prove the condescending looks wrong. Finally, the market opened up to a circular intersection. The flat round raised section was filled with benches and tables. Food stalls rimmed the platform, far enough apart to allow people to step up to the inner seating section. Opposite the stalls, more tables edged the small space that had been left for lines, pedestrians, and carts. Tani scanned for Mrs. Tatlock, but didn’t see her. She stepped up onto the platform and took a seat at the table behind the pastry stall.
It felt like an hour but had only been a few minutes before she saw Mrs. Tatlock waving to her from the far side of the street. She started crossing, making for the pastry cart. As she stepped into the open thoroughfare, a blaring noise burst across the emporium. A black moto sped around the corner from the connecting street, the midday light catching on its immaculate paint, turning the black to a brilliant white. Tani found herself more curious about the ancient machine than the people scattering away from it, until she saw it bearing down on Mrs. Tatlock. She stood frozen at the edge of the pastry line, right in the center of the clear space. The vehicle hit her with such force, she flew through the gaps of the stalls and collided with the concrete edge of the platform. She crumpled to the ground.
Tani jumped up and ran the few steps to the edge, looking down as others gathered around her. The roar of the moto faded in the background. Mrs. Tatlock was not moving. The small wall of the platform had a spatter of blood that smeared down to where she lay. Her leg had a sharp bend in the shins. One arm wrenched behind her body. The other was bent backwards at the elbow. A small stream of blood dripped from her mouth.
Tani jumped down into the crowd that had formed, bumping into the nearest person and steadying herself before she fell onto Mrs. Tatlock’s body. She checked for a pulse, but knew before she touched her that there would be none.
Not another one.
She trembled as she stared down at her still body. If it would have saved her life, she would have let the Hierophant train her. She never should have scheduled this meeting. She wouldn’t have been here. This was a second loss of a patient before she could gather any imaging data.
A series of forceful shouts came from behind Tani, and she felt the people around her moving. A patrol of the Prin Guard pushed through, surrounding her and the body.
“What happened here?”
Tani continued staring at the body. Another voice behind her answered, “A moto came through—it was going very fast. It clipped her, throwing her into the wall.”
The forceful voice of a woman cut through the chatter, “Clear the way.”
Tani knew that voice. She pulled her eyes from Mrs. Tatlock’s broken limbs
and the pools of blood and turned to see Ayna Shae with another patrol of Prin Guard, pushing through the crowd. Ayna saw Tani and paused for a second before turning to the first guards, who filled her in. She stepped up to Tani and together they turned and looked down at Mrs. Tatlock.
“Did you know her?” Ayna murmured.
Tani nodded, “She was a patient. One of my first real successes.” Her own voice cracked and trembled, surprising her.
“I see. I’m sorry.” Ayna put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it in an attempt to comfort her. Tani just felt awkward.
“I should go. She has a family. Will you let them know what happened?” Tani asked.
Ayna looked down at her, “Yes, we will handle it.”
Tani turned and started pushing her way out of the crowd. She heard one last command from Ayna,
“We need a cart to transport her body to the labs for an autopsy.”
Tani stifled the guilt that rose with her interest in the autopsy. Perhaps they could hire someone to steal the data. If they could, they might not not need to worry about imaging for a while.
53
Ayna
Ayna had left the body in the care of Hunt’s assistants that had arrived on the scene shortly after she called for an autopsy. She rushed to the lab, hoping to get some coffee and have a few minutes to decide on a course of action regarding the breach of security. She found Kingston loitering outside the lab doors.
“Ayna!”
“Kingston! What are you doing here?”
Kingston made a nonchalant shrug and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his slacks as he strolled closer to her, “I heard about the accident, I wanted to ask if I could watch the autopsy. I’ve been following Tani on the feeds for a while, it’d be interesting to see the results of her work—smashed body parts aside.”
Ayna tilted her head and looked at him. Despite his easy going mannerisms and concern for her, he always seemed to have some unspoken plan, hiding beneath those eyes that absorbed everything. His nosiness made her bristle with irritation. It had always prevented her from trusting him completely.
It could be a way to find out if it was him watching the video.
She had Captain Hassan quietly going through the list of States House members who had admin level access and finding out their whereabouts during the evening. Already, the investigation had gone nowhere. Most of them should have been at home, in bed. Since location data on Tabs was encrypted on the SatNet side, there was no way for Hassan to verify without asking to go through each of their Tabs, which would raise suspicion that Ayna was up to something. Hassan had suggested creating a vandalism scenario, which would allow them to account for everyone. It would do nothing to hide the fact that they were looking for the security breach to whoever had done it.
No, Ayna would need to compile her own list of people who had the motivation to find dirt on her.
“Alright, you can stand in the observation room with me.”
She waved her LightTab over the door, went through the motions to pass the biometrics, and heard the beep of acceptance. The doors whirred open, and she led Kingston to the observation room, taking the long way around the edge of the room to avoid the platform, which likely still had a sample or two of the Blight crystal sitting in cases.
She unlocked the door and guided him into the room, “I’m going to go for coffee. Do you want some?”
Kingston shook his head, “I don’t drink it.”
“Alright, I’ll be back then.”
She made sure the door closed and then waved her LightTab over the handle. She heard the lock click and charged off for her coffee, pulling up her messages to Hunt.
Kingston Cross will be observing. No talk about our work with the BC during the autopsy. We can discuss that part later.
Dropping her LightTab into her oversized pocket on her dress, she sailed into the small kitchen that served the eight of them—Hunt, Kaiban, and his husband, Ayna, and Hunt’s four assistants. With two of them living in the lab full time, now the kitchen was never clean. Dishes hung out in the sink and the trash can was overflowing. It seemed neither Kaiban nor Jahwo felt any need to clean up after themselves.
I guess I can’t blame them. I wouldn’t want to keep my dungeon clean if it gave more work to my keepers.
She poured her coffee, debating internally if any system of rules would help keep the place tidier.
Not sure why I care, it’s not like I do the cleaning anyway.
As she made her way back to the room she had left Kingston in, she heard the caterwaul of the assistants. Over the thrum of wheels, she heard the arguments over how to best maneuver the cart with the body down the hall and into the operating room.
She picked up her pace, holding the coffee away from her as she made her way to the door she had locked. The assistants appeared, bumping into the walls as they tried to move around the corner. More screeching and exasperated yelling came from them. Hunt walked behind them, staring at the ground with such intensity that Ayna was certain the glaring was the only measure of control that kept him from slapping the arguing young adults.
He looked up and caught her eye as they approached her door. She would have to enter the room before they could get past.
She looked at him and smirked with a quick nod toward the assistants, “The entire way back?”
He sighed, “The entire way back.”
Both assistants looked down at the ground. Ayna always enjoyed the passive aggressive scolding of pretending the topic of conversation wasn’t there. It worked especially well on the young. She smiled with compassion at Hunt, “Whenever you need some replacements, I’ll get it done.”
“It might be soon.” He glared at the assistants, who still kept their eyes turned away.
Ayna unlocked the door and slid into it, allowing them to pass.
“From the sound of things, I thought we might end up with multiple bodies to dissect.” Kingston said as Ayna closed the door behind her.
“Nearly. I think they can make it the last few feet without murdering each other. Maybe.”
She sipped her coffee quietly as she and Kingston looked through the one-way glass panel. The door swung open, but it was quite a while before they cleared the doorframe and pushed the cart into the room. Ayna wished the observation room had chairs. They’d be standing here for a few hours.
Kingston remained quietly observant through most of the autopsy. Ayna struggled to pay attention and hunt for topics of conversation. She finally settled on discussing James.
“Have you heard from James recently?”
Kingston remained looking through the window into the next room, “Eh—he messages me from time to time. Seems he is happy to hang out with Shara as much as possible. He is quite taken with her.” Turning to face Ayna with a smirk, he continued, “Seems the Shae women are all equally alluring.”
Ayna redirected her attention through the window, lost in responses to the compliment that seemed too obvious an attempt to butter her up to take it as anything other than a joke, “Despite my not being biologically related to the other Shae women besides Shara, I think we are all quite easy to ignore… besides Shara. If it wasn’t for my family and position, I wouldn’t get a second glance.”
Kingston scoffed, “I doubt that.”
Ayna tried to ignore the lingering look from him and focus on the surgery. After a few long seconds, Kingston turned back to the window as well, “It wouldn’t hurt to encourage them. A political alliance between our families might not be as world shattering as yours with the Shae family, but other than Ceafield, no political alliance would bring much to the table for you.”
Ayna hid her own smirk. So, he wants to glom onto Prin’s prominent position. The flirtation that made her awkward now seemed even more trite than she originally thought it. “Shara is too much like me. If I suggested an arranged marriage to her—even to someone she liked—she would immediately reject the possibility and the person.”
Kingst
on chuckled, “At least your stubbornness isn’t backed by a Sourcemancer’s power. Perhaps we should discuss an arranged marriage for her with someone else so that she will pursue the match we actually want her to pursue.”
Ayna gave him a wide smile, “I don’t know that we is the appropriate phrasing. Like you said, we have little to gain from such an alliance.”
Kingston smiled back but said nothing, returning his gaze to the window. It surprised Ayna to see that he didn’t look upset by her comment. If anything, he seemed oddly content to have his proposal dismissed.
Three hours and six cups of coffee later, Ayna had escorted Kingston from the building. While Hunt had spoken about what he found in Mrs. Tatlock, including the Blight-wrapped diamond implant, Kingston offered no speculation or conclusions. Despite her prodding him for his thoughts, he had given her nothing—no indication he knew what they did here. But from the smile on Kingston’s face as he left and thanked her for allowing him to watch, Ayna felt that, somehow, Kingston had some conclusions of his own. In parting, he gave her a side hug and walked away with a bounce in his step. It was hard to dislike him, no matter how much her intuition said not to trust him. She knew the feeling was right; he did not try to hide the attempts to gain more standing in Prin—the same motivation as everyone around her. It hardly seemed like a good enough reason to spurn his ideas. He did warn me about the Artificers.
She hurried back to Hunt’s office, where he would retreat after they finished cleaning up and changing. She sat in his chair and scanned through the images the assistants had taken throughout the autopsy. One of them had a keen eye for art. Nearly half the images were hard to distinguish what was even in them, between different body parts, blood and white-gloved hands that were soon coated in blood. The other half were almost beautiful. Each one carefully framed at angles that let the lines and curves of the contained objects differentiate themselves. She sucked in her breath when she reached the photo of Hunt removing the implant from Mrs. Tatlock’s shoulder. Above the pale skin, with the occasional spattering of blood, a crimson pair of gloves held the crystal. The Blight crystal had grown around the diamond inside of it. It looked like a lump of translucent red flesh that thinned to a light pink, then to nearly a brilliant white at the very center. The picture captured all the color and contrast and the size of the hands compared to the gem brilliantly.
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