Sam smiled at Inas. He was speaking more, opening up. If only he had done it before they walked through crystal to a previously unknown facet of the Nether. There wasn’t time now for the intimate talk Inas deserved. Sam had so much to tell him, about Enos, about the attack on the Dome, about the voice, and about what he could do.
“There have been a few changes,” Sam told him. “I’ll tell you the first chance I get. I promise.”
“Why not start now? Why not when I got back?” Inas’ grip on his hand turned hard, as did his words. The warm skin on Inas’ hand writhed, as if it wanted to engulf his. Then the motion died away.
“You were in no shape to talk, Inas. I tried,” Sam said. “I don’t know what’s changed since we passed through the wall, but this is the most alive I’ve seen you since you got back. I can’t imagine what happened to you.”
“Then ask.” Inas leaned in close, and Sam’s gaze traced the curve of his lips as he spoke. “I need to get this out of me, or I will never recover.”
Sam was about to speak, but Wor Wobniar’s tapping toes clicked against the stone of the bridge, echoing in the still air at the top of the hill. Despite himself, Sam turned to xyr as xyr head flaps oscillated between them.
“Are you ready?” The Nether translated the memory of xyr meaning as xyr mouthparts ground together.
Sam ground his teeth. “Can we have a few minutes? What are we here to see, anyway?”
“Who, not what,” Wor Wobniar said. “We are to meet with the Effature, Crominu Vaevicta, and our time is short. Best to start now. The walk there will take a few minutes.”
“But we—” Sam raised a hand to Inas, but Inas shook his head.
“You are right. It will wait, for now.” Sam didn’t like the way Inas’ eyes pinched at the corners. Before he could object, Inas turned to Wor Wobniar. “What about the Assembly? Won’t they want to know we are here as well?”
“Assembly?” Wor Wobniar’s head flaps waved uncertainly. Sam was getting a feeling for xyr expressions.
“A place where representatives from the ten—where however many species live here—meet,” Sam said. He didn’t want to talk about the Assembly. He wanted to talk to Inas, but Inas wasn’t looking at him.
“I see.” Wor Wobniar adjusted xyr feet on the bridge to a trio of clicks. “It does not work like that here. The Effature has supreme authority. You and your Aridori will have to meet Vaevicta direc—what is it?” The Nether must have translated their surprise to Wor Wobniar.
“You know what I am?” Inas asked. His anger was gone, replaced with fear.
Sam stood perfectly straight, the tiredness from his passage through the wall forgotten. He put out a hand protectively, in front of Inas’ chest. Maybe talking later was a good thing after all.
“Being Aridori—this is not a known thing in your facet?” Wor Wobniar asked.
“It is not,” Inas said. “My sister and I have kept it secret our entire lives, until recently.” He spared a glance toward Sam, who cringed inward at the memory of revealing that secret.
Don’t hate me, Inas.
“Where is your other instance?” Wor Wobniar asked, and again, Inas looked shocked. It was a phrase Sam had heard Enos use, but he still didn’t know its full meaning.
“You do know of our species,” Inas said, but Wor Wobniar waved a claw dismissively. “She rescued me from those who held me, but they captured her in the process.”
“The others are already looking, and we will get her back from the Life Coalition as soon as we can,” Sam added. “That’s one reason we can only stay a short time here.”
Wor Wobniar made a strange click hiss—which the Nether translated as surprise. Sam turned back to xyr.
“This organization steals those of the Aridori species?” Wor Wobniar asked. “Despicable. Here they would be hunted down.”
“How would—” Inas started, but the other being made a curt gesture.
“Later. We must get to the city, especially if your time is short. The Effature wants to see you.” Without waiting for confirmation, xy scuttled away on xyr three spear-like feet. Sam traded a glance with Inas, and they hurried to catch up.
The bridge led to a set of stairs, winding down the hill and into the city. Sam looked around for buildings like the Houses of the Maji, but there was nothing familiar on this side of the wall. Even the city itself was strange, after the chaotic warren of the Imperium. This city was low, like a giant’s hand had pressed it into the ground. No building was taller than four or five stories. There were more organic materials used, rather than the multi-colored stone and occasional metal ornamentation in the Imperium.
The first building they passed was fashioned from a single giant shell, the exterior a brilliant iridescent blue. Sharp protrusions grew like hooks from every edge, and places for the missing eyes and muscular connections were made into doorways and windows.
How did that thing get in here? Could they open a portal that big when it was full-grown, or did it grow that big here? If so, where are the others?
There were no building-sized creatures crawling through the city. He looked to Inas, who was gawking as much as he was.
“Have you seen anything like this before?” Sam asked. Inas shook his head, his hair swinging around his face. It was still unkempt from his captivity, and Sam’s hand rose, almost of its own accord, to comb it back behind his ear. Inas leaned into the gesture. His anger seemed to have dissipated as quickly as it arrived.
“Even on Etan, where the cities float on the sea, they did not have creatures with shells like that,” Inas said.
A block later, they goggled at a structure made from strands of webbing, stretched out like strings of a cello, each twisted with the strands next to it until the whole was a mass of fibrous ribbons, obscuring the inside. Next to that was an oppressive mass of stone and earth, as solid as the webbed building was light and airy.
They began to see the people who inhabited this facet, and the old panic rose up in Sam at the unintelligible sounds of crowds. The mesh of so many voices made it impossible to pick out one conversation, and the whole was far too much to bear. He reached for Inas’ hand, and his friend put an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close.
“It’s new for me too,” Inas whispered. “But the fact that it is new is good.”
“Is it?” Sam asked. His breathing was speeding up, even though he was trying not to hyperventilate. His stomach rose into his throat. The air was rich and heady, and Sam felt like he could have run a mile easily while breathing it.
“It is better than being trapped inside a small box,” Inas answered, his voice unexpectedly hard. Sam forgot all about his breathing for a moment.
“We tried so hard to find you, Inas,” he said. “I’m sorry. You know I would have done anything to rescue you, don’t you?” Except he hadn’t. He’d hidden in Majus Cyrysi’s apartment.
They’d stopped, and Wor Wobniar clicked xyr feet ahead of them, swiveling to fix them with xyr head flaps. “Time is short.”
“You’re right. We’ll talk later,” Inas said. He tried out a weak smile and it made a spike of guilt race through Sam’s gut. “I feel better just being with you. It’s just going to take a while to get over all of it.”
Sam embraced Inas, letting his lips rest against Inas’ neck. There were little hairs there, invisible to view, and Sam wondered if they would still be there if Inas changed his shape. Then Inas pulled him after Wor Wobniar.
What are my stupid problems, compared to what Inas has been through? Yet he felt himself shutting down, ready to curl into a ball. He always made it about himself. Not here. You’ve been picked as the first one to visit another facet of the Nether. Don’t mess it up! Just be normal! Watch the crowds of people.
Sam eyed the species passing. It was a mark of how long he’d been in the Nether that new aliens did not occupy all of his attention.
None of the beings were the same as the ones in his facet, and as he took in details about them
, the tightness in his belly loosened. There was so much to see, even if there were crowds. Focusing on details helped push away the anxiety of too many people. And of abandoning Inas.
We’ll clear everything up soon. He forced himself to look around. Once they got to their destination and met the Effature, then he’d have a long talk with Inas. Just holding his hand calmed him.
The beings here favored six appendages, rather than the four of the other facet. There were many others of Wor Wobniar’s species, scuttling in and out of structures at high speed. They seemed to live in the organic creature-buildings. Sam could see flashes of color through openings, as if the insides were pearlescent.
The second most populous being was predominantly purple, though there were occasional dark blue ones, and they were shaped like two tripods stacked on each other, with a head in the middle. They moved on three legs, but the legs twisted and untwisted around each other on joints with large ranges of motion, as if they were trying to tie knots on the ground beneath them. Their heads were connected to the middle of their bodies, and often they bent over so the upper tripod could also be used for walking. These beings had eyes—three apiece, but again, no recognizable mouths. When Sam and Inas passed a group standing together, a buzz arose, like a horde of crickets chirping, and the Nether translated snatches of speech, snippets of wonder and excitement at the strange creatures among them.
“Much excitement. Very amaze. Beings so strange.”
“New parts of Nether. Wild feelings.”
“So wow.”
“They rub their limbs together to communicate,” Inas said, and Sam nodded. The Nether’s translation of their speech was staccato, each sentence chopping off abruptly.
“They are called the Praveadi,” Wor Wobniar offered. “Skilled engineers, even if they will not answer a direct question. Best to let them get on with whatever they want, sometimes.”
Another group of the beings were constructing a new residence, rubbery white filaments winding around each other to make a funnel-shaped web. When complete, it would be like the one Sam had seen earlier.
Less populous were a lumbering species, with dull gray, brown, and green shaggy pelts. They weighing easily ten times as much as the next largest alien and moved fluidly, six short legs repeating in concert, like a caterpillar. Each one had two heads, one in the front and one in the back, though the rear head was smaller than the one in the front, and hairless.
“Are there other creatures riding them?” Inas asked.
“Not riding,” Wor Wobniar called back over xyr shoulder. “The Caraakn are two creatures in symbiotic partnership. Makes them good bureaucrats. If one forgets something, the other will remember.” Xy waved a claw to a passing behemoth. Smaller arms unfolded from around the rear head as it chittered in high-pitched speech. The arms were incredibly long and multi-jointed, and one fished in what looked like a saddle draped over the creature’s back. It pulled out an ornamented cube, which the arm held before the front head. The front head turned to look at the cube, and its legs sped up, turning its lazy stride into a lumbering canter as it rumbled a string of low, interconnected syllables Sam couldn’t make out. “Must be late for a shift.”
“How many species are here?” Sam asked.
“There are five,” Wor Wobniar answered. “My own are called the Nostelrahns. I have mentioned the Praveadi and the Caraakn,” xy indicated the tripods and the lumbering beasts, “there are also the Lufvurn, and the Aridori.”
Sam struggled to note the individual names, certain he’d forget them. He’d had the same trouble when first coming to the Nether, but now the ten species were easy to catalog.
“You recognize the Aridori as a species?” Inas asked at the same time as Sam said “Who are the Lufvurn?”
“We do, and look up,” Wor Wobniar said.
Sam raised his head, careful to go slowly in case it triggered a panic attack. First he saw the columns, like in his facet. They rose into the sky, lost to sight overhead, but around them flew beautiful creatures with three rippling wings on each side of their body. They were sleek and long, with marbled colors.
Each Lufvurn had a different pattern, like someone had mashed an entire box of colored clay together and rolled the whole thing into a cylinder. The different hues spread out along the wings, ending in radiating spirals at the tips, which fluttered in the wind. “They’re beautiful,” Sam said.
“And arrogant about it,” Wor Wobniar said. “A Lufvurn will talk you to death about the mystical significance of their pattern and how they are uniquely suited to sing the praises of their god.” The Nostelrahn made an irritated clicking noise with xyr mouthparts. “They are bores, yet they are fantastically skilled at problem-solving and pattern recognition. Give one a problem to solve and they will come back a lightening later with three solutions you’d never have thought of and a dissertation on why you asked the wrong question in the first place.”
“Like flying butterfly snakes,” Sam said to Inas, who nodded, but frowned. Was he angry again? “What is it?”
“The Aridori. There are here as well as in our facet. How did they come here, and how long ago? Did the war affect them?”
Sam froze. Once again, he’d ignored Inas’ pain. He pushed the feeling away. It was a very good question.
“They seem to be accepted. Maybe the war didn’t happen, or maybe—”
“Ah here we are.” Sam didn’t have a chance to continue the thought, as Wor Wobniar halted. Inas and Sam stopped with xyr. They were at a solid wall of stone, a couple stories tall, embedded in a web of the white filaments with which the Praveadi had been building. The edifice went as far as Sam could see in either direction. Other buildings butted up to it, but there were no towers, or higher floors, or even any significant features.
“This is the Effature’s compound,” Wor Wobniar said. “She will explain everything to you.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Apprehension and Evasion
- The House of Grace is probably the least understood house of the six, even to those of us who can hear this aspect of the Grand Symphony. The House of Potential is reputed to be the most complex and unknowable, yet it also has the most research performed on it. Ask any majus who can hear the House of Grace what it can do and you will receive a different answer, from affecting balance, water, temperature, elegance, or speed. But the most interesting answers imply the House of Grace is the only one with the ability to interfere with other houses, even extending to untying other changes to the Symphony.
Ponderings on the Grand Symphony by Panen I’Fon, Lobath Majus of the House of Grace
Rey watched Sam and Inas fade into the wall of the Nether, accompanying the strange beasty from the next facet over. Even more aliens existed. He should have known, logically, but did they all have to be so bizarre? The Methiemum and the Kirians were roughly the same shape as a normal Sureri. The Lobhl had too many fingers, and the Etanela were just too tall. The rest—Rey shivered. Bunch of weirdos. And now this thing that looked like a three-legged desert scuttler mated with a flagpole. It wasn’t just him—the others were staring too, breaking off into little groups to discuss. His mentor came to stand beside him. The Sathssn were pretty far up the eerie spectrum, but at least they had a healthy appreciation for how strange everyone else was.
Rey sighed. He’d worked so hard to get Inas back, and what does the ungrateful lump do, but waltz off with Sam the first opportunity he got. Rey could have nursed him back to health as well as Sam, and not made him hike up all those steps in the House of Communication, to boot. He’d been told his version of his greatfather’s juicespine soup was quite good. Or at least edible. Sureri were not known for their food.
He shook his head. Made a guy regret the effort he put in, but there was nothing to be done now, at least until Sam dragged Inas back to this facet.
And what about these other houses? House of Matter? Of Time? No such thing. Except Rey had seen Sam change the bridge they stood on with his own two eyes.
Rey hesitantly touched a banister. Solid, and cold—just how he felt.
“Majus Kheena,” he asked, “could this be sommat else? Mayhaps a manifestation of one of the other houses—Grace or Potential? Not really a new house, eyah?” He eyed the Effature—the venerable sir was talking with Majus Ayama and Majus Cyrysi, busybodies that they were. Majus Caroom was near the back, staring out over the city like the last stump left before the desert took over. They might understand Rey’s feelings. They had just lost Inas again, too, and Inas hadn’t visited his mentor more than once since he’d been back.
Majus Kheena shook his head. “This new house, I know nothing of it.” The Sathssn rapped a gloved hand on the metal railing. “Though this, it is certainly impressive. There seems to be another facet of the Nether we knew nothing about. And there are more species than our Assembly has ever encountered.” He looked to Rey. “How hard is it to imagine there are more aspects of the Symphony? Perhaps the other maji, they will have different opinions.”
“But it’s just so…irregular,” Rey complained. “I donna want to be the soggy-pants o’ this crowd, but donna yer feel—”
A portal cut off his words as it swirled open between them and the Effature’s group, who were standing near the wall. Another Sathssn stepped out, garbed fully in black, and sporting several weapons, including a strange looking knife at his belt. The portal snapped shut behind him, as if this new arrival had pulled it closed as quickly as possible.
“Who is—” Majus Kheena hissed, eyes narrowed, as if he could learn from the interloper’s dark, featureless clothes. “Nakan. You are of the Most Traditional Servants. And the Life Coalition, yes? You, what do you hope to accomplish…?”
“You know where he—” Rey started, but Nakan ignored them both and sprang into movement.
An aura of blue—the House of Grace—and dark purple sprang up around the newcomer as he glided over the steel surface toward the maji and the Effature. Majus Ayama’s aura of white and olive concentrated around her arms and legs. She sprang forward almost as quickly as the Sathssn, while Majus Cyrysi, behind her, glowed with yellow and orange. Rey winced, and waggled a finger in his ear. The air had just changed pressure.
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