Umbral Ten, page 7
part #1 of Khaldaia Chronicles Series
The first hour passed in silence. So did the second. As did the third. It was becoming nearly intolerable.
“I should thank you,” Rook said.
Theo offered him a smile. “You actually already did. As did your, er. Your friend.”
“I’m right here, and I’ve got a name,” Snuffles said cheerfully.
“Be nice,” Rook chided him. To Theo, he added: “I know. But it stands to be said again. So thank you. I know that can’t have been an easy position for you to take.”
“Nothing about today has been easy for any of us,” Theo remarked. “And I hope you won’t hold Ser Lanc’s reticence against him. He is a noble and devout man -- that he even abided by the results of the vote is a show of quite remarkable restraint on his part, given his position and your friend’s condition.”
“I am still right here,” Snuffles said. “And I don’t have a ‘condition.’ I’m an Incarnate. I have been for a long time.”
Theo smiled sweetly at him. She’d learned this particular smile, delicate and waifish and charming, from her mother. “Perhaps that is something you should avoid mentioning overmuch.”
Rook made a rumbling noise in the back of his throat. “I am grateful to Ser Lance for not immediately killing him. And I can tell he has his heart in the right place,” he said. “If we’re allowed to leave on our own terms, we can go our own way, and none of you need ever hear from us again.”
Theo had wondered when that request would be made. They were mercenaries, of course, and vanishing away to find their next battlefield suited them. When they’d been part of a large company like Lucky Raven, doubtless it had been easy for their leader to negotiate a few blind eyes here and there.
“If it comes to it, I will argue in favour of letting you go free, and do my best to convince the others,” she said.
“But …”
“But it isn’t a decision I can make unilaterally,” Theo said. “The circumstances are exceptional, more than exceptional, and that’s the only reason any of us can allow him to move around unhindered. Once some semblance of normalcy returns, I don’t think I can’t countenance giving your friend his freedom any more than Ser Lance can.”
“I am literally right next to you. In this conversation.”
Rook smiled softly. “You can’t even turn a blind eye, huh?”
Theo smiled back, but avoided looking him in the eye. “No, I can’t even turn a blind eye.”
“Oh my god.”
They walked in silence again after that. Three more hours of quiet trudging, and the sun was starting to peek over the horizon. Theo let out a breath of relief she didn’t even know she was keeping in. Part of her, a part she now felt rather stupid about, had worried that the strange, two-moon night would never end.
Her relief didn’t last long. Even as the sun rose, the blood red moon didn’t vanish over the horizon. It stayed in the sky, fixed in one spot, casting red light across the clouds.
“Moon ain’t moving,” Sister Tamara noted. “I weren’t paying attention to it before, but it’s just sat there, innit?”
“Jakob,” Snuffles said. “You got any librarian-y wisdom for us?”
Librarian? Ah, she recalled now. The rather quiet, perhaps even somewhat mousey librarian’s assistant. Old Royston, who had run the College’s vast library for longer than Theo arrived, had been too frail and sick to make the trip to Starkwind Monastery this year. She didn’t even realise he’d sent someone in his place.
She thought perhaps she’d seen the boy amid the many library assistants Old Royston had taken to employing as his eyesight and bones failed him. Short, slight, but uncommonly athletic for a library assistant, with the dark skin and thick hair of someone from the southern edges of Aldwick, and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses settled on a hawkish nose.
“If you’re asking if there are any historical records of a second moon appearing in the sky, the answer is no,” Jakob said. “Blood moons are a common image in mythology, but largely they take the form of the current moon turning red, not an entirely separate satellite.”
“So much for book-learning,” Snuffles said airily.
“I saved your life,” Jakob said, “you dick.”
Theo frowned, rubbing her face. “Then let’s approach this from another angle,” she said. “Does anyone have a clear memory of what happened?”
Dead silence.
“I thought as much,” Theo said. Her hand went to the stone around her neck. “Let’s keep moving. Once we find somewhere to rest, I may have a way that we can more effectively pool our knowledge.”
Theo paused as they reached a crossroads, a y-shaped fork that was only barely visible now that the road was so overgrown. If Theo hadn’t remembered this place from their trip up, she doubted she would have noticed. The wooden sign pointing towards the monastery in one direction and the town in another was gone without a trace, but the third path, the one that led off towards the northern side of the island, was marked.
A gnarled, leafless tree had been daubed with red paint, and from its branches dolls of wood and straw had been hung, so many that it looked almost like they were the tree’s fruit. Each one had bells attached to its feet, and Theo imagined that if there were a breeze they would have made quite pleasant music.
“Well, that’s disconcerting,” Snuffles said, arching an eyebrow.
Theo stepped closer, reaching for one of the dolls, giving it a sharp tug to snap the fragile hemp cord tying it to the tree, turning it over in her hands. It was shoddily made, looking at it, and likely the work of a child, and yet Theo could tell a lot of love had gone into it.
A small scroll was nestled in the straw. Theo pulled it free, unfurling it.
“‘I wish that we’ll have more fish this year,’” she read.
“Is that grammatical?” Snuffles asked.
“... Maybe?” Rook said.
“It looks like it was written by a child, so perhaps we shouldn’t criticise them too harshly,” Theo said. “It appears to be some kind of religious offering.”
“The Church doesn’t have any traditions like that,” Lance said. “I don’t know of any faith that does.”
Rook held out a hand for the doll. Theo turned it over in her hands once more, then passed it across to him. He tilted it about, looking at it from every angle, then shook his head, holding it up so that Snuffles could get a look at it. Snuffles examined it for a second, then shrugged a shoulder.
“Neither of us are exactly the religious sorts, but Lucky Raven had followers of the Ardent Church, orcish ancestor worshippers, elven Celestites, pixie nature worshippers, and even a couple of people from border nations with their own faiths,” Rook said. “I never saw dolls like this being made and hung off trees.”
Sister Tamara shook her head. “Nobody out on the sea does stuff like this either. Sometimes merchants will hang bells from the mast to appease the sea an’ all, but not with no straw dolls.”
“Very curious,” Theo said. “But it’s but another question for our growing list, and Starkhaven gets no closer while we stand here.”
Snuffles paused, then pointed a finger at the doll. “I’m keeping this,” he said, taking it from Rook and stuffing it in his coat. “It’s mine now. It belongs to me.”
Theo rolled her eyes, starting to walk again. Sooner or later (sooner, she reflected, thinking about the way her feet were stinging) they would need to stop, to find some water to drink and take an hour’s rest if nothing else. She was sure there was a river somewhere around here. She remembered how the clear water had sparkled as she crossed the bridge over it before. Thinking about it made her all the thirstier.
They walked for a while more before anybody talked again. It was Snuffles this time, turning towards Jakob with a frown.
“Hey, librarian, those people on meathooks, how’d they look to you?”
Did … did Theo hear him right there?
Jakob looked like he was about to throw up. Somehow he managed to just grimace instead, touching one hand to his mouth. “Please don’t remind me of that.”
“Forgive me,” Lance said. “But meathooks?”
“Er,” Snuffles said eloquently. His gaze flicked over to Jakob, before he gave a helpless shrug. Theo expected that the conversation might just stop there, and they’d return to silently trudging along. Instead, Jakob spoke up.
“When I came to, I was in some kind of … I don’t know what you’d call it. A feeding room? Or a torture chamber? The -- the archbishop had people strung up on meat hooks. I saw him, um,” Jakob’s voice cracked. “I s-saw him … I saw him eat …”
“It’s okay. We don’t need any more,” Theo said gently, holding up a hand. “Thank you, Jakob.”
She saw Snuffles throw Jakob a smile, and while it might have been intended to be comforting (truthfully, she couldn’t tell), the flash of fangs only prompted Jakob to look away sharply, shutting his eyes.
“S’weird, though,” Snuffles said, flicking an ear. “None of those people on the meathooks had bruises.”
Jakob gave an irritable noise. “Meathooks don’t -- …”
“Subduing someone for long enough to carry them into a monastery, up a bunch of stairs, and skewer them on a meathook definitely does leave bruises,” Snuffles said. “And some of those people looked like soldiers or guards, or at the very least brawlers. They’d have put up a fight.”
“Did you examine them all? Unless you did, I don’t think it’s possible to say that none of them had bruises,” Lance remarked archly. “Especially if they were already bloody and injured.”
Snuffles sighed, shrugging his shoulders, then went quiet. Theo thought she saw him touch the pocket of his coat where he’d stowed the straw doll, and a frown pass over his face for a moment.
“There should be a river not far from here,” Theo said. “We’ll take an hour to rest and drink. I know we don’t have any waterskins, so make sure you’re all fully hydrated before we move on.”
“Oh man, awesome. I’m really tharstry,” Snuffles said happily. “It’s like hangry only instead of ‘hungry’ and ‘angry’ it’s ‘thirsty’ and ‘an -- …’”
“No, no, we understand, Snuffles.”
✽✽✽
The river was a welcome respite. Jakob hadn’t quite realised how thirsty he was until he saw the sparkling surface of the water, and then he was down on his knees at the riverbank before he knew it, scooping handfuls of water into his mouth.
Snuffles and Sister Tamara were equally enthused, with Tamara giving a happy yell of “Water! Sweet water!” while Snuffles pranced down into the water like a happy puppy, practically dunking his entire head into the flow of water. Theo, Rook, and Lance were more subdued, talking among themselves near the bridge for several minutes before Theo and Rook slowly made their way down to start drinking.
Jakob frowned. Lance must have been just as thirsty as the rest of them, but he stayed near the bridge, watching the group warily.
… No, no, just watching Snuffles warily. If he noticed, he wasn’t letting on, continuing to happily splash in the deeper parts of the river without a care in the world.
“You’re going to get water in your ears, Snuffles. All of them,” Rook said mildly, crouching to gather up water in his hands.
“Sweet, sweet moistness,” Sister Tamara whispered. “Oh, how I’ve missed you. Never leave me again, dampness.”
Jakob opened his mouth to ask if she was okay, then shut it again. She was fine. She seemed fine.
Before long, they were resting on the bank of the river -- or most of them were, at least, whereas Lance had finally approached to take a drink of water -- some sitting and some, like Sister Tamara, sprawling on their backs. Snuffles was complaining that his clothes were wet, shaking droplets out of his coat to dry it off.
“I’d like to get to Starkhaven before it’s dark,” Theo said, glancing up at the sky. “It seems to be winter, no luck for us, but we should be able to make it in time.”
None of them put voice to what they were all thinking: It had been the middle of summer just a few hours earlier, by their reckoning. That, it seemed, was the elephant in the room that none of them felt comfortable mentioning.
“You said you had a way for us to figure out what happened?” Lance asked between sips of water.
“I didn’t say that exactly. But a way for us to piece together our memories, at least as much as we can,” Theo said. “A spell. It requires a rare component which … well, luckily enough for us, my mother gave me one as a gift years ago.”
She reached under her robes, tugging free a milky crystal hanging from a gold chain. Lance’s eyebrows rose.
“A memory crystal,” he said. “From the forests of Ilyasvale.”
“They’re one of the main exports of the Sun Elves. My mother always had more than she knew what to do with,” Theo said quietly. “Usually, they store only one memory, but through the -- …”
“Burroughs’ Ritual of Communal Simulation!” Jakob exclaimed. “... Lady Theodosia, I hardly expected that someone like you would even know of such a ritual.”
Theo arched an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? Someone like me?”
“Clearly, us laymen are missing something here,” Snuffles said. “What, is it dark magic or something?”
“N-no,” Jakob said. “No, nothing of the sort, it’s just that it was invented by … well, um, there is a certain movement of mages that advocates the use of psychadelic substances and free love, and it’s commonly used for them to all, um. Relive a … free love session … from every perspective.”
Rook and Snuffles tilted their heads to the side in slow, curious unison. Lance turned bright red, staring at the river instead of at any of them.
Sister Tamara cackled. “That’s bloody brilliant! I wouldn’t have pegged you for someone with a wild side, m’lady! Although I guess you’ve pegged a few -- …”
“Sister Tamara!” Lance exclaimed. “That is quite enough! Remember that you are -- that you are a maiden of God!”
Sister Tamara cackled even louder, but she did at least have the decorum to clamp her mouth shut after a few seconds, miming a motion of zipping it closed.
“Rest assured, my exposure to the spell was purely theoretical. It has a great many applications beyond the … intended … one,” Theo said coolly. If she was blushing, the metallic golden shade of her skin hid it very well. “Such as in situations exactly like this, where a group of people may only have flawed or incomplete recollections of a particular event.”
Sister Tamara stifled a snort behind her hand. “Sure, mate, sure. I believe you, thousands wouldn’t.”
Lance gave an irritated noise. Splashing his face with water, he stood up, shaking the last of the droplets off. “Moving on,” he said. “This spell of yours, Lady Theodosia, do you have all the components you require for it?”
Jakob ran over the components in his head. A memory crystal, freshwater, and a strand of human hair. More complicated than some spells, but still a rather easy spell to cast. As he recalled, the biggest hurdle the spell had was that all of its subjects had to be willing, with rather unpleasant consequences if any of them were not.
Theo gave a short nod. “Yes, I believe so. I’ll need hair from you, Rook, Tamara, or Jakob. Or Snuffles, I suppose, but since I don’t know how umbral energy will interact with the spell, best not.”
Lance wordlessly drew his sword, cutting a lock of hair from near his forehead. It made him look rather lopsided, but Jakob felt that only slightly dimmed the man’s general majesty. Theo took it from him, and got to work drawing the circle. It wasn’t a complicated circle, bearing only a single ring of runes and symbols.
“Ah, if someone could collect some water from the river for me,” Theo said, rummaging in one of her pockets and pulling out a small vial.
“On it,” Rook said, taking the vial.
Theo set the vial on one side of the circle, and the lock of hair on the other, then settled with the crystal in her hands, slowly laying it down in front of her. “Everyone take up positions around the circle and join hands.”
“I’m not going to join hands with the Incarnate, just so we’re completely clear,” Lance said, frowning. “Nor will I permit Sister Tamara to do so.”
“Mate -- um, I mean, m’lord,” Sister Tamara said, with just the slightest nervous shuffle as she corrected herself. “Beggin’ your pardon, but I don’t think you can permit me to do anything. We’re part of different orders, at least if I’m understandin’ the other sisters’ lessons right. I always did struggle to follow along with Sister Illyria.”
Lance flushed red again, lowering his gaze. “I -- yes, yes, you are entirely correct, Sister Tamara. Forgive me for being so presumptuous. Still, I must advise that -- …”
“We get it, you don’t want my Incarnate cooties all over anyone Churchy,” Snuffles said. “I’ll sandwich myself between Rook and Jakob. Happy?”
“Hardly,” Lance said. “But it’ll do.”
Jakob considered protesting that maybe he should have some say in this, but kicking off the argument again was exhausting just to think about. So it was that Rook took Theo’s hand on one side, and Snuffles’ on the other, who then took Jakob’s, who took Lance’s, who took Tamara’s, who took Theo’s other hand.
A nice, companionable ring of people. Maybe they could start having singalongs before the day was up.
“The spell will only take a moment,” Theo said. “After we are all in a trance, we will experience … I suppose you might call it a patchwork of our memories. If there is anything we all don’t remember, though, then the spell can’t summon that up for us. By the same measure, a flawed memory from one of us, or even something which only one of us saw, might produce some irregularities. Are we all ready?”
One by one, they gave their assent. Theo took a deep breath, leaning down towards the memory stone. “Murmur Universitas Memoria Ansuz.”
