Mortal Banshee

by Jonathon Magnus

  Mercy stroked and then rubbed the back of Don's neck with both thumbs. “You have a misalignment.”

  Don closed his eyes. The massage obviously wasn’t unpleasant.

  Rapture’s heart was heaving.

  Mercy leaned close to Don’s neck. “Oh, I see. You're impotent.”

  Rapture popped, laughing so hard she could not control herself.

  Cespenar started laughing and fell off his chair.

  Athian spewed some crumbs of food and burst into laughter.

  Don tried to keep a straight face while he gave an indignant objection. “Well, maybe there are some things we shouldn't discuss at the dinner table.”

  Rapture was gasping for air. “Oh, my gosh. I'm sorry.” She fell into another fit of laughter.

  Cespenar climbed up and danced on his chair seat. He emitted auras of alternating blue and purple. He was well fed and full of energy.

  Warm liquid formed in Rapture's eyes. “Oh, my sides ... hurt. I can't stop.”

  Athian said, “Pixie, were you saying something impotent?”

  Cespenar said, “Do you mean that old saying, ‘A hard man is good to find’?”

  Mercy said, “Perhaps that was not the best word. I simply meant that his oracle mechanism is non-functional.”

  Sorana spluttered and giggled.

  Don shrugged. “Well, sometimes it just doesn’t work the way you want it to. I tried my best.”

  Athian shook his head. “That's all that people can ask of you.”

  Rapture grasped the table for support, gasping for air. “Stop it. Oh, my sides.”

  Mercy said, “In any case, I can forge an adapter that will make your mechanism functional while in my tower. It will lose functionality when you leave.”

  Athian said, “You’d better not withdraw, then.”

  Rapture wheezed. “Don.”

  Don took some dishes to the kitchen, stifling the joking.

  People quieted down and Rapture was able to control herself. She still strained to breathe.

  Athian put a spoon of dark sauce in her mouth. “Try this.”

  “Mmmm.” Rapture patted the table. She mumbled, “Oh, my.”

  Mercy said, “It is a Hazelnut butter base with smaller portions of cocoa bean powder and corn extract. It is intended as a condiment.”

  Athian scooped more for her and offered it.

  Rapture’s mouth moistened as she anticipated the second spoon full. “It’s ambrosia.”

  Don returned to the calmer room. “Does this mean I am not an oracle?”

  Mercy walked back to her chair and sat. “Effectively, while out in the field.”

  “Then I am unable to use the Catalyst.”

  “Not outside the tower.” Mercy spoke in a tone that resembled resignation—a cold, detached resignation. “I am sorry to say that its use as a weapon, for you, is now limited. The mechanism by which the Catalyst forms links requires physical contact with the target. You could only use it while within the tower.”

  Don tapped his fingers on the table. “You were unable to see this defect earlier?”

  “I could have. I didn’t look.”

  Don took a deep breath and exhaled. He nodded. “My condition should not undermine the contract. The Catalyst can still be a powerful tool, combined with other subterfuge. The greater part of the consideration has already been paid, with the rescue of Rapture.”

  Mercy folded her hands. “Your words are positive, yet you sound hesitant.”

  “In our initial discussion, you seemed particularly assured of my oracle ability. You made a point that my experience was normal when I said I didn’t have predictions.”

  “That is true. A lack of notable predictions is not uncommon among oracles.”

  Athian said, “Excuse me, but how would you even know?”

  Mercy said, “Research.”

  Don asked, “What kind of research?”

  Mercy said, “The answer to that is quite complicated. Perhaps it is time we had a more involved discussion.”

  ***************

  Athian handed a washed bowl to Rapture. “How are you holding up, Hun?”

  “Fine—why?”

  “You seem a little distracted.”

  “Yeah …” Rapture placed the bowl on a drying rack. She rotated it. “I just wonder. What is going to happen to me after Don?”

  “I can't imagine what you must be going through, losing your home. I'm so sorry.” He hugged her and lightly squeezed. “And after Don, you’ll find someone else.”

  “And when I am too old?”

  “You will always have me. And Kaytla would always take you in. There's the Siren Sanctuary in Raykez, and there’s always Twelve Angels. The exile is just from Xandria, right?”

  “I know.” Rapture leaned on the counter. “In a way, I feel liberated.”

  Burke yawned widely.

  “Well that is wonderful. So what is worrying you?” Athian clutched his stomach.

  “Aww.” Rapture asked, “Still having the diarrhea?”

  Athian said, “Yeah. You’d think I’d be empty by now.”

  “I don’t understand. I think the infection is gone, so it should be clearing up. Just keep drinking. Is the rash irritating?”

  “I guess it’s a super infection.”

  “Maybe.” Rapture stacked some plates.

  Athian asked, “Why didn't you go with them?”

  She realized she’d drifted off and Athian was putting the dishes on the drying rack himself. “With who? Sorry.”

  “Visor and Mercy. That is what you’re thinking about.”

  She shrugged. “And do what? Listen to a bunch of droning on about philosophy and math? Standing there like an idiot?”

  “Oh Hun, you are a siren. You are beautiful. You have to let this thing with Mercy go.”

  “Yeah, I'm beautiful. I'm a fling ... while I'm young and in binding. Then when that's done, he can go find some intellectual human to marry.” She tapped her finger on her head.

  “Oh, you know that's not going to happen.”

  “Thanks for saying that, but it is what happens. So ist das Leben. It happens all the time, and then we return to Xandria. But I don't have a home to go to.” Rapture let the plates drop back to the counter. “She freaking knows everything. And you know what—she deserves him. She's going to help him save the world.”

  Athian put an arm around her. “Hun, you know it's not like that. He's not interested in her. I don’t think most men would be. And I've never seen anyone treat anyone like he does you. And I don't see how that will change, binding or no.”

  She put a hand over her face to hide her eyes. “Ug, I know. It's just—this sucks. I just don't want to be around her right now.”

  He patted her shoulder. “I know. It'll be better in the morning. It was a long ride here and it's late. And we're all going to help him save the world.”

  “Athian, you are kind. If you’re not careful, you just might be my next binding.”

  Cespenar whistled.

  Athian said, “Well, I would be honored, but I don’t think that’s possible.”

  Rapture said, “I don’t think you get a choice.”

  Chapter 32

  Truth

  Mercy said, “What I'm about to tell you is known by only a handful of people in the world. The Sword Saint of Nova Eburaca, Lyon’s Crimson Idol, the vampire queen, and Maciate are among them. It is the basis of civilization and the heart of everything. The others perceive only portions of the truth. Your understanding will soon surpass theirs.”

  Visor stood with Mercy in the darkened, empty map room. There were no windows. The only source of light was a faint glow emanating from Mercy's body.

  Mercy pointed into the empty air. A mass of lights spawned from her finger and flowed to take the shape of a raised relief map of Esselin. As she indicated specific areas on the map
, patches of light blue appeared. “The highlight represents the distribution of sentient races across Esselin. More densely populated areas appear brighter.”

  “Raykez seems rather sparse.”

  “Most humans and ogres do not register on my grid. Thus, Caradan and Jortal are underrepresented in regards to population. Much of the intensity you see in Raykez is contributed by sirens. Xandria and Twelve Angels appear to be more populated than Raykez, which you know is not actually the case. You also see that Bell Font is a highly saturated. This prompts your next question.”

  “Why are humans and ogres different?”

  Mercy gestured and a full size holographic image of an alfanar male appeared. His skin was translucent such that his skeletal structure and internal organs could be seen. She rotated and zoomed the image so that Mercy and Visor were viewing the side of his head. The skull and outer layer of the brain became nearly transparent. She pointed at a crystal-like structure in the underlayer of the brain, between the temples. It began to glow a bright blue. “Sentient races other than humans and ogres are conjoin races. They have active conjoins, which allow their bodies to impose certain functions upon their environment. For example, the sirenic conjoin function accelerates a target body’s clotting and antibiotic functions. The conjoin is an organ like any other, such as a heart or pituitary gland. It is included in genetic code. A vampire’s ability to paralyze another’s neural system is as natural as a human’s ability to solve three dimensional puzzles and fight off influenza.”

  “I have a conjoin.”

  “Indeed, you do. Telepaths, oracles and shaman have pseudo-conjoins, which are active. Most humans and ogres have dormant conjoins.

  “Active conjoins normally display on this map. However, you are not currently represented because the tower shields you. Also shielded from detection are Maciate and his minions, an intentional effect of the Catalyst enhancement. When an active conjoin dies, energy dissipates from her body and joins the Loadstone.”

  Mercy waved her hand widely over the relief map and a lighter blue color filled Esselin beneath the surface. “Esselin sits upon the Loadstone. The Loadstone interfaces with active conjoins throughout their lives. It absorbs their energy after death.” The alfanar’s body faded, except for the conjoin. A stream of color flowed out from the conjoin and dissipated into the ground. “The Fragment is a part of the Loadstone, a part to which I have access. Occasionally, when a conjoin dies, before its essence dissipates into the greater part of the Loadstone, it is read by the Fragment. When this happens, I am imparted with its knowledge and experiences. That is how I perform research. I will show you the Fragment.”

  “Does the collected energy enhance your tower in some way?”

  “I don’t know if the tower’s strength is tied to the Loadstone. I don’t understand the origin of its powers—only how to use them.”

  “Are these consciousnesses, the ones that reach the Fragment, targets of assassination?”

  “What is it you really wish to ask?”

  “I just asked.”

  “I offer you the knowledge of life, yet you interrogate my personal history. Either you are lost in a romantic fantasy with me, or you have something else to ask. Ask me.”

  Visor crossed his arms. “Okay. I understand that your powers are granted by the tower. But beyond the powers, you strike me as ... too perfect. Your language and mannerisms, your tireless work—your knowledge is beyond the limits of reason. You interact with people in a way that doesn’t seem natural, given what I know about you. You’ve been a wonderful host, but …”

  “But you do not trust me.”

  “I guess I don't.”

  “I accept your assessment. I would prefer to have a good working relationship with you, and I will make further effort toward such an end.” Mercy held her hands behind her back and paced. “I don't fully understand everything myself. I can only conclude that my perfection of mannerism is another ability imbued by the tower. I was not always like this. I was a fairly normal child, born and raised in Vozvul. The time of my whirlwind marriage and the tragic events that followed have become blurred with time. A lack of sleep and overburden of stress likely contributed to the confusion. I do remember a life on the run after my husband's madness began, dragging Sorana with me from house to house, never finding a home.

  “The Fragment contacted me in dreams. It led me to this tower. The trip took us weeks. We lived off the land and the kindness of others, mother and daughter. We reached this tower, exhausted and near death. Abandoned and decrepit as it was, we found a humming, glowing stone inside. It was a fragment of the Loadstone. I touched it and was able to communicate consciously with the tower for the first time. It imbued me with it powers, restored the tower around me, and granted me the opportunity to provide my child a home … at the cost of my imprisonment.

  “I understand less about myself than I do about people I have never met. I know things that I should not, and don’t know things that I should. I am able to duplicate some abilities of other races. I am also able to perform functions that can't be explained by the physics of the Esselin.” Mercy disappeared and instantly reappeared a few feet away. Before his eyes, the copy’s clothing transformed from a coral and ivory dress to black robes with a white hood. A large, jeweled pendant hung around her neck. "Take my pendant.”

  Visor unclasped the pendant and held it in his palm. It sank into his hand and eventually fell out the back of his hand. It hit the ground and formed a puddle of viscous liquid, which diffused into the stone.

  Mercy said, “I am not real to you, but I am here. I see you from this perspective. And you remain real to me.” She reached up and touched his arm. Her touch was unnatural ... ethereal. He covered her hand with his. He could feel her skin, but his hand soon sunk into hers.

  “And I am also here.” The original Mercy reappeared. “And I am quite real.” Took off a diamond necklace and gave it to him. “Please keep it.”

  “This is real?” He ran his fingers down the length of the necklace chain.

  Original Mercy said, “I formed the diamonds in the forge by dissolving purified coal in molten iron. They will exist outside the tower, as I worked materials brought to me from outside the tower.”

  Visor put the diamond necklace in his pocket. He walked around the copy. “This copy of you looks more real than the training holograms.”

  “The training holograms use multiple projections of photons onto columns of suspended particles. While they can seem visually accurate to guests, their olfactory and audio components are lacking.”

  “And clearly, this isn’t the screen projection.”

  “Stated because the perspective is correct from all angles.”

  “Among other reasons.”

  Mercy’s copy said, “I don’t exist, yet I do.”

  Several more Mercys appeared behind her. One of the new copies said, “I can forge weapons and tools that interact with conjoins, but I don’t know how. I only know that I can.” She stroked her diamond necklace. “This would disappear were it removed from the tower.” She stepped up to him.

  He touched the necklace. “But I can feel it. How is this possible if it’s not real?”

  “It isn’t. I just know it is something I can do, but only with conjoins, and only inside the tower. I understand my story has numerous gaps, but it is truly all I know. I don't know how to explain myself to you other than to say what I feel. I believe my purpose in life is to raise and protect my child. I wouldn't mind a decent life for myself someday. I believe my freedom is won with Maciate's capture or destruction. As to your query, the answer is ‘no’.”

  “Which query was that?”

  “You asked if the consciousnesses that I absorb are targets of assassination. The answer is ‘no’, though the selection sets are not mutually exclusive to my knowledge. But that’s not exactly what you wished to ask.”


  “Are you some sort of psychic vampire?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t have any reason to suspect that I am.”

  “You have her kill people.”

  “Not for that reason.”

  “For what reason?”

  “Do you think me so cold and hypocritical? I claim to care for her, yet for my own benefit, I would send her out to murder people? People who have no chance plead their case?”

  “You are judge and jury. You make her the executioner. Even if you give that your judgments are sound, how do you think someday she’ll feel?”

  “You propose that someday, she will awaken to the ramifications of her actions and blame me, or worse, herself.”

  “Well, yes.”

  “That is a possibility I have much considered, but perhaps she is not as naïve as she sometimes appears. The first time I sent her, she thought to ask me why. I told her. It was self-defense. A killer was after us. He was an alfanar controlled by Maciate and there was no path to redemption. We killed him before he struck. The next time, she didn’t ask. It was a vardal warlord that, among other things, purposefully starved families to depopulate a province in an effort to further some political end. The next was a human that, along with his wife and son, systematically molested his adopted niece over a period of years. In searching for information on the Catalyst, I become aware of certain intolerable injustices. I have the power to stop them. How can I not?”

  Visor said, “Justice is viewed differently in different societies. Almost all systems of law consider self-defense a justification for homicide. Protection of children is commonly held to the same standard. Some religious people might disagree. And some other systems of justice as well. But in these cases, at least, you were protecting yourself or others, not simply meeting out punishment. That is a critical distinction across all systems.”

  “Thank you. I may not convey as much through mannerism, but your validation truly means a great deal to me. Is there anything else you wish to know?”

  “Is this my only chance to ask?”

  “Of course not. I would, however, allay as many doubts as possible now rather than deal with lingering distrust. A lack of trust is not conducive to the accomplishment of goals. It is also saddening.”

  She didn’t seem particularly sad.