

The Blade of Mercy, Volume 1:

Mortal Banshee  
Copyright ©  by Jonathon Magnus  
All Rights Reserved

Published by Jonathon Magnus at Smashwords

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# Table of Contents

Chapter 1—Sorana

Chapter 2—Visor

Chapter 3—Mercy

Chapter 4—The Tower of Mercy

Chapter 5—Madness

Chapter 6—The Hand of Mercy

Chapter 7—Rapture

Chapter 8—Trapped

Chapter 9—Blaydon

Chapter 10—The Fist of Mercy

Chapter 11—Kalafels

Chapter 12—Captivity

Chapter 13—Ghost story

Chapter 14—Ogre

Chapter 15—Aura

Chapter 16—Poison

Chapter 17—Abduction

Chapter 18—Talon

Chapter 19—Pixie

Chapter 20—Survival

Chapter 21—Naiad Rangers

Chapter 22—Armaan

Chapter 23—Fracture

Chapter 24—Krafer's West

Chapter 25—Xandria

Chapter 26—The Blade of Mercy

Chapter 27—Judgment

Chapter 28—Sacrifice

Chapter 29—Eternity

Chapter 30—Understanding

Chapter 31—Liberation

Chapter 32—Truth

Chapter 33—Obsession

Chapter 34—The Mission

Chapter 35—Weapons of Mercy

Chapter 36—Skarholt

Chapter 37—Troll

Chapter 38—Sanctuary

Chapter 39—Finnur

Chapter 40—Into Madness

Chapter 41—Ranie

Chapter 42—McKinsey's

Chapter 43—Evan

Chapter 44—Ignas

Chapter 45—Engelfire

Chapter 46—Revan's

Chapter 47—Sister Mary's Suite

Chapter 48—Talon's Lair

Chapter 49—Enigma

Chapter 50—Uncreation

Chapter 51—Renaurd

Chapter 52—Serene Knight Gwendolyn

Chapter 53—Virtuosa

Chapter 54—Pale Siren

Chapter 55—All in Your Mind

Chapter 56—Dream Trap

Chapter 57—Linked

Chapter 58—Another Me

Chapter 59—Snakes

Chapter 60—Amaranthine

Chapter 61—Eurydice

Chapter 62—The SaSade Mirror

Chapter 63—Veils of Gray

Chapter 64—Temple of Liesen

Chapter 65—Catalyst

Chapter 66—Empowered

Chapter 67—Touch of Evil

Chapter 68—Running Home

Chapter 69—Despair

Chapter 70—Lies

Chapter 71—Hawks of War

Chapter 72—Say My Name

Chapter 73—Flower of Evil

Chapter 74—Confession

Chapter 75—Asylum

Chapter 76—Possession

Chapter 77—Wounds so Deep

Chapter 78—Meta Realm

Chapter 79—Breath of Life

Chapter 80—End of an Epoch

Chapter 81—Transcendence

Chapter 82—Dawn of Mercy's War

Thank you

# Chapter 1

Sorana

Sorana dismounted, crushing a frosted purple flower under the heel of her snakeskin boot. She tethered Mystique and a spare horse to the outer fence of Augusta's military stable. She checked that her veil remained securely clipped inside of her helm before approaching the gatehouse.

WaterCrescent, Augusta's massive fortress, loomed before her. Until a few months ago, it was the bastion of human civilization along their northern frontier. Now it was their prison.

Three blue-skinned ogres guarded the gatehouse. The lazy, witless ogres ....

One of them waddled his nine hundred pound, ten foot body with disproportionately thick legs to meet her. "What's your business tonight?" His breath formed a putrid fog in the evening air.

Sorana didn't break stride and didn't look up. "Message delivery." She signed along with speaking. Then she added in sign only, _You stupid, lazy pile._ She passed them and slowed for a few strides, listening to ogres' complaints of vardal arrogance. She caressed the cold, metal weapons strapped to her left forearm.

Sorana scanned the courtyard. Mother's model was accurate enough, though it didn't reflect some of the damage from the combined ogre-vardal-buway assault.

Sorana circumvented ogre groups camped around bonfires.

Vardal guards on their riding pythons blocked the ramp down to the underground market level. The arrogant, cruel vardal ....

Sorana slipped into the temple and made her way down through its underground catacombs to a crypt. There, she found a concealed entrance to a tunnel, just where Mother said it would be. She negotiated the tunnel, heading deeper underground. She emerged into the storage cellar of a bottlery. She made her way upstairs and slipped through a window into a back alley. She was now in the underground market level, where the captive humans resided. The filthy, selfish humans ....

As she moved down streets and alleys, most of the humans made a wide berth to avoid her. A sizable group of young males did not. She slowed as she passed them, scanning for the human that Mother wanted.

One mumbled, "Vardal."

Another whispered, "Vampire—she's alone."

Sorana searched some dwellings, causing panic when residents were home.

She passed a trio of vardal. One of the men signed a greeting, which she returned in kind. He began following her—conspicuously. A woman shouldn't be unescorted in the human district.

Sorana turned a corner, jogged to the end of an ally, and slipped into an unoccupied house. She hid under a staircase.

The vardal pursuer entered and searched for her. The aged, wood floor creaked under his feet.

Another creature approached Sorana from above and behind. It had negligible body odor, ambient corporeal temperature, lateral undulation locomotion, and minimal beta wave emission. It was a snake, a favored vardal pet and dietary staple.

Its metabolic activity surged.

Sorana ducked, reached up, and caught the snake mid strike. She shifted her wrist to release a switch-dagger from her armguard. She decapitated the snake.

The vardal heard her movement and approached the stairs. Sorana revealed herself, bowing in greeting. She winced and gripped her shoulder, letting her arm hang awkwardly. She kicked the snake's body into plain sight.

The vardal glanced at the snake. He held his hands out as if to cradle and inspect her arm.

When he was close enough, Sorana efficiently disabled him and guided his body to the floor. She used the snake's teeth to put puncture wounds in his wrist.

There was a pulsing pain in her head. She pulled her glove off, wetted a finger and stuck it into a pouch she kept tucked away inside her belt. She licked the thin layer of powder that stuck to her finger, and breathed deeply until the pain subsided.

Now her body craved calories. She ate a few nuts from Mother's care package.

Time was running out. There'd been too many missions in a row. She needed to find the asset, get out, and get home.

The asset was a human male from the southern Raykez region ... six foot, average physique, dark brown hair, social and political master, and archery expert. Mother had provided Sorana with holographic images for study.

Back on the street, Sorana found a tavern that smelled like lots of humans. She slipped inside.

# Chapter 2

Visor

A hush fell over the Petulant Peacock. Some of the more drunken and oblivious patrons were slower to quiet.

Visor turned to find a vardal female, alone, standing a few steps inside the front door. She was dressed in the typical female vardal uniform—figure-hugging black fabric under a layer of fine mail with snake skin boots and gloves. The mail was highlighted by plates of symphonic metal, a lustrous iron alloy that human forgers were unable to duplicate. The plates were arranged and cut as much for decoration as for protection.

Her armguard was unusual in that it looked more ergonomic and integrated with her armor. She didn't carry a rapier, the favored weapon for vardal women. She wore more pouches and straps, which could conceal weapons. Her helm had extended cheek guards. She wore a stretched hoodie under the helm. A violet veil covered her face.

She strolled to the bar, unintimidated by the twenty or so humans that would like to see her skinned, hung, and then burned. She was a bit more substantial than some of the other vardal women, albeit less refined in her movement. A lock of hair slipping out from under her coif was peculiar as well. There were some brown undertones rather than the typical silky, solid black of vardal.

She said something to the bartender that was too quiet for Visor to hear.

He prepared a drink.

She adjusted her veil to uncover her eyes. She scanned the room.

Visor could barely make out the slanted eyes of a vardal. The lighting was poor in the underground tavern. Her body was lean and defined.

She caught him staring, as women always did when you admired them.

The bartender brought a drink to the vardal. She picked up the drink awkwardly, half-nodded to the bartender, and walked into the kitchen.

Thorsius, sitting across from Visor, craned his neck to watch her leave. "Banshee Mortel, what was that about? Security check?"

"Not a lone female." Visor shook his head. "And there's no need to check. There's no word on General Presence. And the Naiad Rangers pose little threat—not enough to affect market level security, anyway."

Thorsius asked, "How many frost ogres does it take to chase down a band of nymph rangers?"

"S _irenic_ rangers. 'Nymph' annoys them. They're just trying to help free their sisters."

"What kind of people would torture sirens?"

"Someone so arrogant or desperate that—"

"The vardal are demons, and Nazaire is the worst of 'em." Thorsius slammed his fist on the table. He was a thick-framed and muscular blacksmith. He wore a faded green cloak over a black turtleneck. Long dirty blond hair fell over his shoulders, and his beard was braided into two tails that hung down to his chest. "At least they're letting you see Rap."

"Just enough so our binding isn't broken. It seems the vardal don't want her going through withdrawal, for whatever reason. They're certainly not too squeamish to watch it. They let other sirens go through it." Visor rotated his advisor ring round his finger. "They listen in on us to make sure we don't talk too much. It's bizarre."

"Animals. Someday, they're gonna pay." Thorsius took a long drink. He grunted and nodded at the front door.

Two vardal were scanning the room. They soon stepped back outside.

Thorsius finished his drink. "I should get out of here. Blaydon's expecting me."

"I should go too. It's getting late and I need to look something up." Visor paid for them and walked out.

It was slightly cooler outside the Peacock, but not cold. The market level was protected from the worst of the chill, being fifty feet underground. It was dark, lit only with bioluminescent plants and by mirrors that reflected moonlight through surface vents.

There was a flash of lustrous metal and the veiled vardal girl was on him. "Visor?" Her eyes were amber—not the dark brown typical of vardal.

Visor shrugged. "I am an advisor."

"Burke Donovan Mourning, advisor to the Mourning Court." She grabbed his hand and felt his advisor ring. She released his hand and shook hers as if slinging off something filthy.

Visor leaned toward her subtly. He had seven inches and sixty pounds on her.

She did not give ground, though she wrinkled her nose and held her breath. "You will come with me." She turned and walked, slowing to allow him to catch up.

Visor fell in step with her. They were approaching the ramp up to the courtyard. "If we're going to the surface, can I stop and get a cloak?"

"No." The girl veered away from the ramp to head toward the bottlery. They entered the empty building. It had been ransacked by the ogres multiple times and now was devoid of anything drinkable. She led him to the basement's concealed tunnel, a passage few knew of.

Visor asked, "Come here often?"

"No."

He followed her a few steps then held out his hand. "I can't see."

She made a disgusted scoff and grabbed his hand.

He followed her, skimming the wall with his free hand. The crypts and catacombs were too dark for him, but the surface temple's antechamber was illuminated by moonlight. Still, he held and even massaged her hand until she realized he could see and jerked it away.

They came to an open robe closet. He stopped and reached in. "I'm just going to grab a cloak. You want one?"

"Walk. And do not speak."

Visor slid on a lined, fur cloak as they passed the altar. She opened a rear door and they stepped out into WaterCrescent's courtyard. The cool air was invigorating. It was just a light breeze, which was fortunate. Located on the cliff overlooking Keening Lake, WaterCrescent was subject to significant gusts.

The ogres had built a bonfire in the school yard. Three ogres were just off their path ahead, and one moved to intercept the couple. The brute was huge—maybe ten feet tall and approaching a thousand pounds. He carried a human sized poleax lightly in one hand. He pointed it at them. "Where're you going?"

The vardal gave a dismissive wave. "Prisoner transfer. Vampiric interrogation." She didn't break stride. Visor trailed by a few steps.

The ogre waved his axe. "You're all alone."

The vardal stopped and cocked her head. She swiveled to face the ogre.

Another ogre approached.

The vardal moved differently now. She was prowling—goading this ogre with her body language. She moved within his reach.

His hand could grip half of her waist. He could pick her up and crush her in an instant.

She spoke calmly. "I am. Is that a problem?" She glided sideways, giving the second ogre her blind flank.

The ogres exchanged looks. One waved his hands defensively. "Whatever."

She pressed him. "I need a mount. Where is the outer stable keeper?"

"He's at the camp, this way." He pointed.

The other ogre pointed a different direction and said, "No, that way." They looked at each other in confusion.

The vardal girl scoffed and hissed something in vardal, simultaneously signing something that looked rude. She turned and strode off. "Keep up!" She led Visor to a gaping hole in WaterCrescent's outer wall.

Visor slowed his pace. "Wait."

She stopped.

He said, "We're leaving, and you're not taking me for interrogation."

"So?"

"I'm responsible for someone's safety. I can't just leave if there's a chance of getting her out. We have to get to the AciesMagus."

"No."

"If you help me, I will do whatever you want—no resistance."

"You will keep up, or I will shatter your legs and drag you."

She was right. It was one thing for her to grab him off the street, but Rapture was being held in the AciesMagus, an underground fortress deeper than the market level. The vardal girl had planned out this mission precisely. No good would come of their being killed or captured during an impromptu rescue attempt. Nothing more was said as the two made their way to the outer stable.

She picked horses for them, and the two mounted.

Her mount, a gray Holstein, recognized her.

"Keep up". She started off at a trot.

He pulled alongside her. The sky was especially clear and the Aurora lights were bright.

She said, "They probably won't kill Raptured."

"It's 'Rapture'."

"The Duchess of Augusta—Natalia."

"Either way, why do you say that?"

"Why would vardal kill a captive siren?"

"Maybe because they are vicious murderers?"

She pushed her mount to a canter. "Keep up!"

# Chapter 3

Mercy

Visor and his captor pushed their mounts, riding through the night and into the dawn. Reassuringly, they headed east across the frosted tundra, away from Jortal, the home of Khatagin's ogre tribe.

They were both skilled riders, but she had the stronger mount and lighter load. He would not be able to outrun her to escape.

It was dusk again before they found shelter at the edge of Skarholt Forest and stopped to rest.

She did not restrain him, even when she closed her eyes for the night. Nor did she speak with him, other than to provide instructions for eating and sleeping. She did remove her stretch hoodie on occasion. She appeared to be a human-vardal half breed, something that Visor had never seen before. Some doctors had concluded that human-vardal cross breeding was not possible.

They skirted the northern edge of Skarholt and entered at its northeastern edge. They wandered for a time, seemingly lost. In the shaded forest, he lost track of time and direction. They came across a thicket of trees that initially appeared impregnable. However, as they approached it, an opening became apparent.

A sixty foot stone tower was hidden within.

The half-vardal pulled up to double doors at the base level. She spoke as if to someone standing adjacent to her. "Mother."

There was a buzzing sound. A latch shifted and clicked. The doors opened, revealing a human woman. She was probably in her late thirties. She wore a pink rose to hold back her medium-length brown hair on the right side. Her ivory sundress had a coral and peach floral print. Her hair was healthy, her skin flawless, and her movements graceful. Yet she somehow lacked comeliness.

She curtsied. "I am Mercy Singrin. I've been waiting for you. Please come in." A scent of floral perfume wafted over him.

The vardal girl rode her mount into the tower, ducking to clear the door frame.

Visor followed her inside. A section of the first floor was walled off as a stable. Small windows, little more than arrow slits, encircled most of the first floor. Most of the lighting was provided by a sizeable and lavish crystalline chandelier. It held at least a hundred candles whose light were reflected and magnified in countless facets of the chandelier's crystals.

Mercy watched him remove the bridle. "You are an accomplished equestrian and stable hand."

"My job requires that I know a little about a lot of things." Visor patted the horse's neck. "I suppose you will know all of that soon enough."

"You make reference to the vampiric interrogation ruse. I apologize. It was imperative that I speak with you right away."

"Then there will be speaking?"

"There must be. I am not a telepath."

"Nor a vampire."

"Forgive the deception. It was the easiest cover story. Excuse me." Mercy turned to the half-vardal, "Min Velsignet—"

The girl strode past, spitting out something in vardal.

Mercy called after her. "Velsignet!"

The girl vigorously signed and stomped up the stairs, leaving Visor with the unarmed human women.

Mercy sighed. "I apologize. My daughter is going through an awkward phase."

"And I thought it was just me."

"Oh, no, she likes you."

"Why do you say that?"

"Your legs are not broken." Mercy headed for the stairs, beckoning Visor to follow.

"That would be your daughter, 'Velsignet'?"

"Her proper name is 'Sorana'. I would make introductions after you and she have had a chance to recover, if that would be agreeable."

"That would be fine."

She showed him up to the tower's second level, which included a well-maintained garden, library and kitchen. Three large, stained glass windows were above the garden. "This is the reception level. I will meet you here when you are ready."

"The servants are quiet."

She continued up the central spiral stairs. "There are no servants."

He followed. "So it is just you, Sorana, and ...?"

"It is just two of us. My husband succumbed to madness some years ago." Mercy led him up to the next level and to an impressive sleeping chamber. It included a hand-carved bed, a full wardrobe, a personal bath, and another crystal chandelier. "The Archon Suite is yours for your stay. I will have a meal prepared in the dining area, unless you would like to rest first."

"I could eat. That would be nice."

"You may call me if you need anything." Mercy left him alone.

The bath had hot water plumbing and was large enough to lie back in. It was situated so that one could admire an impressive stained glass window while bathing. The wardrobe had a variety of clothing styles and sizes. He selected an outfit that suited him.

He heard Sorana arguing with someone. He felt a wave of disorientation and light-headedness. A door's slamming pulled him back to his senses. Maybe he needed to rest first. No, he was eager to find out why he was abducted. He got dressed and went downstairs.

Mercy waited for him in the garden, inspecting some pruning work. Soft moonlight shown through the thick, stained glass windows, illuminating the flower petals and imparting color to Mercy's fair skin. "Did you find everything you needed?"

"I did. Thank you."

Mercy led him into a formal dining room. A chandelier hung over a hand carved, finely-detailed table. It was held a selection of wines, cheeses and fruit. She indicated for him to sit. "Red, white, or brandy?"

"Whatever you suggest." Visor held his cup and she poured.

With their glasses filled, Mercy took a seat across from Visor. "Shall you start or shall I?"

# Chapter 4

The Tower of Mercy

He was definitely an intellectual, as research had indicated he would be. That was in addition to being patient and quite fine. His dark brown hair hung past his shoulders. He had enough facial hair to be masculine but little enough to be neat and to show his smooth, mid-twenties skin. His ocean-blue eyes were something a woman could get lost in. His build was average, but he carried himself with a comfortable confidence. Somehow, he was so much more intense in person than she had imagined.

Visor said, "Please go ahead. You called the meeting."

Mercy said, "You were abducted because I have need for your services. Interrogation was the easiest cover story for my daughter to use."

"The ogres would assume she is vampiric since they can't tell the difference between vampires and vardal."

"Indeed. As well, a vampire woman's being alone would not arouse suspicion, whereas a vardal woman's might."

"Of course." Visor ate a purple grape. "Why me?"

"You are an oracle."

"Why do you say that?"

"Extensive research dictates this to be the case."

"I haven't made any predictions of note."

"Being an oracle is not predicated upon a series of notable predictions."

"It has been years since I have received anything. I had a couple of precognitions growing up, but nothing since."

Mercy said, "Predictions are not always understood as such by the oracle himself. To yourself and others, you simply appear to be making good guesses—you seem to be intelligent. Are you considered particularly perceptive by your social circle?"

"There are other oracles. Why me?"

"There are not many. You are young, healthy and well educated. You were accessible, nearby in WaterCrescent. You are intellectual enough to be a lord's advisor and shrewd enough to succeed in politics. You have the authority and background to pass proper judgment. You have sufficient survival training, extensive social training and experience, and good standing with high-born society. You are moral enough to have a bound siren. Overall, you were the best fit to profile."

"Profile for what?"

"For retrieving the Catalyst. The Catalyst is a device that may only be operated by select classes of people, including oracles. It can be used to enhance a target with bio-mechanical implants, making them cyborgs."

"How enhanced are we talking?"

"When confronting one, you should have several experienced soldiers with you. The presence of one of my wardens would be preferable. I will provide you sufficient protection."

"Well, thank you."

"The greater function of the Catalyst is to form and maintain a link between the user's brain and the brains of the cyborgs it creates. This link is unlike conventional links formed by telepaths. Whereas telepaths can form links only while in physical contact, the Catalytic link, once created, is maintained without direct contact. It connects the cyborgs anywhere in Esselin."

"That sounds useful."

"Further, the Catalytic link provides the possibility of control. The Catalyst master may transfer his consciousness to any cyborg."

"Someone could control diplomats or generals."

"This was done at least once before. An oracle named Maciate possessed and used the Catalyst. One of Maciate's targets was Thyestes, a deputy of Vozvul. In Thyestes' body, Maciate proceeded to perform acts so vile as to be inappropriate to recount at this time. As fate would have it, Thyestes' brother Liesen was a warden of mine. With planning and good fortune, Liesen was able to steal and escape with the Catalyst, disrupting Maciate's plot. Liesen succumbed to the corrupting influence of the Catalyst. I have lost contact with him. The brothers' whereabouts are unknown, but it is certain that Maciate works to regain the Catalyst, and that he intends to use it for ill. I need you to retrieve the Catalyst, use it to destroy Maciate, then destroy the Catalyst or return it to me."

"Maciate can only be destroyed with the Catalyst?"

"It is the most efficient means I see. Maciate may be linked to any number of cyborgs, and he could freely transfer his consciousness between any of them."

"Without it, we'd have to kill all of the cyborgs. And just finding them would be difficult."

You grasp concepts quickly. "The Catalyst functionality allows a new master to break links formed by previous masters. Thus, you could isolate Maciate from his cyborgs, and then find and destroy him."

"Why wouldn't Liesen still have it? And what if someone else has it and their ownership is recognized by local authorities?"

"I would still need you to retrieve the Catalyst. I'll provide you sufficient funds for purchase. If you must resort to theft, rest assured that it would be the lesser of evils. The corrupting influence exerted by the Catalyst is difficult to resist. Only those fitting the profile should be in possession of it."

"What if the legal owner also happens to be a really good guy—you know, 'fits the profile'?"

"If you could collect sufficient evidence to determine that the owner is a fit to profile, and has the ability and will to keep the Catalyst secure, it would be acceptable to leave it with him. That is a scenario of remote likelihood."

"What will you do with the Catalyst after we bring it back?"

"I would destroy it, unless you want it."

"You would trust me with it?"

"Of course. You fit the profile. The Catalyst could be a weapon for you in the struggle against Nazaire and Khatagin. You could end the war without bloodshed. It is useless to me."

"Why?"

"The Catalyst may only be used by telepaths, oracles and shaman."

"You are not a telepath?"

"I am not." I already told you that.

"Yet you have such detailed information about me."

"I have performed extensive research." You question my honesty, as have others.

"You live in the tower alone with your daughter, yet every room is immaculate. Your plumbing is perfectly sealed and uncorroded. The garden is manicured and healthy. This feast is fit for a wedding reception." Visor gestured at the chandelier. "No candles are burned down."

"This tower provides automated functions that streamline maintenance and food preparation. I have control of them, though I don't understand the mechanism of control."

"You can't research that?"

"My library does not include that information. I do know that because of the nature of the control interface, I cannot leave the tower."

"Ah, thus the whole abduction thing."

"Correct, and that is also why I require you to act as my hand."

"Why? I mean why can't you leave the tower?"

"I understand that my brain is integrated with the tower in such a way that if I left the confines, I would die. I will answer detailed questions in time, but I have urgency to strike an agreement in principal. Burke Donovan Mourning, I wish to employ you to retrieve the Catalyst and destroy Maciate. What consideration would be required to induce your agreement?"

Visor asked, "What are the options?"

"I have gems. I can make sophisticated jewelry and fine clothing. I have a library with numerous detailed and unique tomes. I believe you value knowledge. The services of my tower are at your disposal—meals, shelter, protection and the like. I can create weapons and armor of high quality fit for your specific skills."

Visor ate a square of cheese. "Well, the first thing I need to do—have to do—is free Rap. Until that, nothing else matters."

"Natalia, Godiva strain siren, known as 'Raptured' in WaterCrescent."

"She prefers 'Rapture'. The Dee was a script error on her transfer papers and they never bothered to fix it."

"Rapture, then."

"She is bound to me."

"I know."

Visor swirled the wine in his glass. "I have to get to her."

Mercy said, "So be it. I will send Sorana with you to retrieve Her Grace. What else would you require?"

"I need to have the option of staying here as needed—and for Rapture to stay without me. I don't know if I can get her back to Xandria. I need somewhere secure to keep her. Besides being my bound siren, with Lord Morning killed, she is the default sovereign of WaterCrescent."

Mercy said, "I would be happy to have her."

"Beyond that, a little operating cash would be helpful."

"Done."

"The Catalyst shall be mine to use, after all business with Maciate is complete."

Mercy said, "As you wish."

Visor raised his cup.

She raised her glass of red wine. "It sounds as if we have an understanding. Let us drink to the contract." They drank at the same time. She motioned toward a plate of fruit. "Help yourself."

"Thank you." Visor ate a slice of freshly cut apple. "This contract is void, of course, if I find out something later that changes the intent of the terms. I'm not going to kill an innocent man just because of some agreement I made without all the facts."

"If you would do such a thing, I would not be hiring you. I wish and expect you to use balanced deliberation in all judgments. I intend no deception. It is agreed that significant misrepresentation shall void the contract."

"Do we have to kill him? I always hear of bounties as 'dead or alive'. What if things worked out so that we could just bring him here?"

"Indeed, the preferable resolution would be Maciate's capture and return. Were he inside this tower without the ability to escape, justice could run its course. Redemption would be conceivable. However, the task would be exceedingly difficult and the risk extreme. Were Maciate, or the current master of the Catalyst, able to discover the location of this tower and then escape, all would be lost."

"He could lead us to believe that we destroyed the Catalyst, by letting us find a fake device for example, then upon seeing the tower, jump to a cyborg."

You are an excellent fit to profile. "That is one of many scenarios. Regardless of the strategy used, once free with knowledge of our location, he could destroy us. The destruction of this tower would mean the death of many innocents and the suffering of great numbers into perpetuity. The risk far outweighs the possible benefit of trial. For this reason, no warden or hireling has ever been tasked with capture." Her daughter was nearing. Mercy stood and gestured at the spiral staircase. "Visor, may I present to you Sorana Singrin?"

His face changed, a cool temperament giving way to awe.

Sorana wore a blue evening gown. It fit to show off her young, athletic figure. Several cut outs revealed youthful skin. Her long, silky hair was brushed out to one side. She wore a smile as warm as joy and as pretty as innocence.

Visor stood up clumsily, almost knocking over his chair.

"Min Velsignet, you are simply radiant. Please have a seat." Mercy headed to the kitchen.

Visor seated Sorana. He was unique.

Sorana was going to fall in love with him.

And he was going to break her heart.

Yet, he was the last, best chance to end the deeper nightmare.

## ***************

Mercy's meal was exceptional. They spoke throughout. More specifically, Visor and Mercy spoke while Sorana mostly ate and stared off. Mercy traded with local human and alfanar hermits of Skarholt Forest, exchanging finely crafted jewelry and clothing for raw materials. She had a remarkable forge and an equally impressive loom. Within the tower, she was able to emulate talents of the sentient races of Esselin. She could heal like a siren, generate electric charges like a vardal, refract light like a pixie, and manipulate plants like an alfanar.

The tower had defenses. An electro-magnetic field disoriented uninvited people wandering too near the tower. Automated weapons were mounted on the battlements. Electrified gratings protected the tower's portals. Mercy employed forest wardens, agents that were trained to detect and combat cyborgs. She also employed field wardens for more distant assignments.

They worked together to clean up.

Mercy invited Visor to the reception area for further discussion.

Visor settled into the garden's couch. "Sorana seems a bit more pleasant."

"We applied a therapy that helps her relax. She had been under some stress recently. Her last assignment took longer than planned."

"Some association exercises?"

"Therapy primarily involves a bath and salt, along with electrical stimulation."

"Does she know about the salt?"

"It is not a secret, but she might not be acutely aware of the exact nature by—" Mercy abruptly cut off as Sorana neared.

Visor asked, "When will we be getting Rapture?"

Mercy beamed at Visor. "As soon as you are ready. But we need to plan and practice the mission. And you need to rest." Mercy exchanged hand signals with Sorana while seamlessly continuing her verbal conversation with Visor. "I have a basic map of WaterCrescent. If you wish to start tonight, we could begin by reviewing that. I'm sure you can add detail. I understand if you are exhausted."

"I am pretty tired, but I don't think I can sleep right now."

"My training room is upstairs."

# Chapter 5

Madness

The Hand of Mercy tethered three mounts at Augusta's military stable.

Sorana was again dressed in traditional vardal female armor.

Visor wore the male version, the primary difference being that the lustrous symphonic metal plates were absent in favor of stronger melodic metal plates. Melodic metal was essentially a higher quality version of human steel. He wore a cloak over a backpack to obscure his human physique.

They passed the ogre guards at WaterCrescent's main gatehouse with little harassment and took the concealed temple path down to the market level. They surveyed the streets.

Visor signed, _AciesMagus ramp or Stockades?_

Sorana touched his forearm in pattern, communicating in vardal-somatic. _Stockades._

Vardal-somatic was slow to use and difficult to learn. It required processing of information on pressure, spatial orientation, and context. But it was good to practice because they would likely be in situations where they would need to remain silent while in the dark. Practicing Vardal-somatic forced her to touch him. With time, she had become somewhat less disgusted by the physical contact.

The Hand skirted around the busier sections of the market level, making their way to the stockades. They took a concealed tunnel from the stockades up to the war room of the surface keep. The keep was the processing center for human captives. It was also housing for the skilled laborers.

The Hand surreptitiously made their way to the keep's small conference room. A small closet concealed a passage leading all the way down to a storage locker of the AciesMagus Proper. That is where the captive sirens resided, along with their vardal tormentors, and at least some vampires. Some reports suggested Lord Nazaire stayed there on occasion.

Sorana left the storage locker, taking the lead.

The lighting was dim for a human. He had to stay close to her or risk losing her in the dark.

They avoided a vardal trio and passed a single, loitering male vampire. Even without studying their hands, you could differentiate vampire from vardal by their wardrobe and other cues. The vardal favored military style outfits and plain metal jewelry. Vampires liked robes and gemstones. Visor signed a greeting that was returned. Vardal moved more sharply and spoke with a different accent.

The Hand reached the tailor room, where sirens and humans were being held. The fitting rooms were repurposed as cells.

In the first cell, Visor found a Marigold, one of the common strains of siren. Her medium brown hair was disheveled and her skin smudged with dirt, yet she was still gorgeous. The Marigolds had the fullest lips and highest cheek bones of the siren strains. With the softest eyes and longest eye lashes, they were perhaps the most classically beautiful of sirens. Their skin was a light tan, and their silky hair screamed health and sensuality. The Marigold recoiled from his attention, reminding him that he was in a vardal outfit.

A vardal man emerged from behind a mannequin. He signed to Sorana, who replied. He was trying to move a glove rack. "Little help?"

Sorana waved him off dismissively.

The vardal studied them. "Who are you?"

Sorana hesitated. In frustration, she fired a bolt from a launcher that was integrated with her armguard. The bolt penetrated deep into the vardal's skull. She flicked her wrist, causing a dagger to protrude from the armguard. It was sharpened on both edges—one of them serrated.

The vardal fell over the glove rack.

"Velsignet!" Mercy's voice came from somewhere behind them.

Sorana pressed her free hand to her forehead. "I'm sorry. I just ...." She signed, _I'm just tired_.

The AciesMagus tailor room faded, replaced by the weapon racks and training dummies of Mercy's training room. There was a passing moment of confusion, a discontinuity in reality, while Visor's body readjusted to a sudden shift in spatial orientation.

Mercy appeared. "I apologize for the holographic emergence. If you prefer, we can use the map room's screen-based holograms. They do not induce the emergence effect."

"No, this is more accurate. I'll be fine."

Mercy put her arm around Sorana's waist. "I'm sorry, Visor. We'll need a break. I will find you when we are ready to resume."

## ***************

Back down in the reception area, Visor perused the library's tomes. There were a number of intriguing titles— _Conjoin Races of Esselin, Dragon Subspecies, Vardal Exterran, The Aurora Bridge, Tree of Eternity, Mana Interface,_ and _Nymph Fracture_ among others.

He picked up _Dragon Subspecies_ and skimmed through sections of it. A passage was critical of the dragon's genetic viability. Too much of their physiology was committed to lifting a scaled creature off the ground and in generating and compressing flammable gasses that were often unused. They had to eat and sleep considerably more than humans and took a long time to mature. According to the tome, dragon wings were integrated with their front legs, like a bat. They were weaker and less agile than a land animal of the same proportions, with muscle mass devoted to flight and a fused skeletal structure. Dragons were the first sentient race to become extinct, at the hands of the alfanar.

Visor fell asleep and startled himself back awake. He switched out _Dragon Subspecies_ for _History of Humans_ and took a seat in the garden. He flipped to random pages. There were sections on the founding of Raykez, the sirenic alliance, oracles and telepaths, and buway-human wars. Within the Raykez chapter, there was a subsection on the Mortal Banshee. With a perverse anticipation, he read the first few words.

"She fell back asleep." Mercy was suddenly right behind him.

Visor's heart jolted. He flipped some pages as if he were still perusing the tome.

"I'm sorry. I know this is urgent for you."

Visor said, "It's okay. We have to get this right. Getting in there sooner and getting killed or captured doesn't help anyone." As Visor closed the heavy tome, it slid from his lap and he caught it awkwardly, stressing a shoulder that was already strained.

"You're hurt?"

"Not really, just a little sore. I think I got it during the cavern climbing."

Mercy moved close and massaged his shoulder. It felt immediately better. Then it felt even better than normal. She pressed her chest against the back of his head and rubbed his temples.

Visor said, "Mercy ...."

"Don't be alarmed. I'm not seducing you. This physical therapy is designed to increase your mobility and thought processes. I'm applying a magnetic aura to enhance the effect. It is not for you—not just for you, rather. I need you to perform well." She sighed, deliberately. "This situation is delicate for me. I have been hesitant to share something with you because of its deeply personal nature, but I need to tell you now. I hope and trust you will treat this knowledge with reverence, as you would if it pertained to someone you loved dearly.

"Sorana's malady—the 'stress' she feels—is the same madness that infected her father before he died. The salt mixture subdues recent stresses and rebalances her psyche. If she is away from this tower for too long a time, she may start to lapse. She will be prone to fits of personality divergence and perhaps even violence. I have included some of the salt on your mount's pack. However, you will have to be careful with your administration of the salts. You will also need to supervise her, as she carries her own supply. While soothing, it impairs her higher cognitive functions for a period, leaving her vulnerable to deception, among other dangers. In the tower, I can protect her. But once you take her out in the field, she will be at risk. You are bright and resourceful ... compassionate and loyal. She is instructed to follow you. I trust you. Please bring my child home."

Visor said, "That's the agreement."

# Chapter 6

The Hand of Mercy

Visor slowed his mount as WaterCrescent came into view. Though damaged, the fortress was still beautiful, positioned on a cliff above Keening Lake. Racheal, a massive statue of a Marigold siren, stood atop WaterCrescent's central keep. She greeted approaching vessels to the Port of Augusta.

The surrounding town of Augusta displayed more enemy flags than last time he'd seen it. There was also some new construction. "That's housing for at least another division of ogres." He stopped.

Sorana pulled up beside him and clipped her veil in place. "Stupid, lazy creatures."

"They're preparing to push on. Alafos would be their next stop, on the way to Raykez."

Sorana glared at fortress ahead.

Visor turned his mount to face Sorana and pulled adjacent to her. He gripped her shoulder with one hand and his saddle tightly with the other. "Well it doesn't change anything. We can't wait." He nodded.

Sorana twisted her left wrist to release the serrated switch blade. She cut into Visor's leg and dragged the blade downward, leaving a nasty, bleeding wound several inches long. Blood soaked into his leggings, blending with the swine blood that already stained a portion of them. He touched the pooling blood and wiped some along his neck.

She then thrust the dagger into her shoulder, grunting and wincing in pain.

The Hand of Mercy rode to the gate house.

Three vardal and an ogre guarded it.

As they approached, Sorana signed, My guardian is badly wounded. "Do you have sirens here? We need to see them."

A male vardal answered. "We do, but they are suppressed. The researchers are busy with them."

A female vardal guard said, "We have medics in the keep."

Sorana said, "We need sirens. We can pay."

The guard signed, How did this happen?

Sorana signed, We were ambushed—a patrol led by a Godiva.

The female guard stepped up. "Naiad Rangers." She asked Visor, "What unit are you?"

Visor signed, DeGeneris mixed infantry. We are the only survivors. He moaned weakly and lifted his full faced helm slightly to show some blood and serious bruising around his dust-covered neck.

The male guard pointed at the third vardal guard. "You go with them. Make sure the Jortal don't harass them."

Sorana signed, We will be fine. She set Mystique to a trot without waiting for a response.

Visor followed. There were both ogres and vardal at the entrance to the ramp to the market. The couple veered their mounts toward the slightly built vardal infantry, who stepped out of the horses' paths. As he passed, Visor signed, Stand down. She's wounded.

Once in the underground market, the Hand rode to an isolated barber shop. Sorana was lookout while Visor set it on fire. Then they rode to the ramp leading down to the AciesMagus.

The market bell rang, warning of the fire. Humans were running through the streets, calling for friends and family.

Vardal guards tried to keep order.

A closed portcullis blocked the entrance to the AciesMagus ramp. It was guarded by three vardal. A side gate was open, but it was too small for the horses. Visor turned his mount so that the guards would see his leg wound.

Sorana said, "Hurry! He can't walk. Open the gate!"

Visor signed, She's bleeding internally.

One guard signed to another, who opened the portcullis.

The Hand of Mercy directed their mounts down the tunnel to the AciesMagus.

The passage opened into a huge cavern. The AciesMagus Proper was an underground fortress set against the back of the cavern. A gatehouse and stone towers guarded a small courtyard. Most of the complex was chiseled out of the stone behind the courtyard.

In front of the AciesMagus Proper were several service structures—stables, dormitories, a retention pond, and a number of snake hatchery pits among them. They dismounted at the stables.

Visor almost tumbled to the ground. His leg hurt worse than he'd expected.

The dormitory was adjacent to the stables. The Hand of Mercy made their way to the dormitory's upper level, passing the room where Rapture often awaited Visor for vardal-supervised visits. From the second floor balcony, they crossed a bridge to the courtyard wall. They traversed the wall, avoiding vardal patrols below. It ended in the rock face, where Visor opened a concealed door. He pointed out the alarmed trap to Sorana as they entered. She knew the layout, but hadn't been here before.

They entered the tailor's room and searched. Sorana signed, empty.

Visor signed, Chapel or lab next?

Sorana didn't offer an opinion.

Visor said, "Lab." They passed a storage room.

A single vardal was working inside. He ignored the Hand.

The Hand passed the AciesMagus central hall, a multi-purpose room with a domed ceiling. Several vardal were inside, engrossed in discussion.

The Hand entered the lab. It had been completely rearranged. The tables of vials, liquids and orbs had been moved to the perimeter.

A female vardal in a lab coat provided an electrical current to an assembly that heated a vial, boiling the content.

Central in the room were two sets of shackles attached to a chain that anchored in the ceiling. In front of those were two sturdy chairs that were outfitted with restraints.

A male sat at a desk near the restraint chairs, writing in a journal.

The female noticed Visor and Sorana. "May I help you?"

Visor signed, We are badly wounded. Can you help us? We heard you had sirens.

The female grabbed a cane off the wall. "Who are you?"

The male stood up.

Sorana stumbled toward the female, holding her wounded shoulder awkwardly. "We need help."

"Who directed you here?" The male moved to intercept Sorana. "This is a restricted area."

The female said, "Who are you!" She signed, Stand down!

In a smooth, casual motion, Sorana fired a bolt from her dart launcher, piercing the male in the forehead. He fell heavily.

The female shrieked and swung the cane.

Sorana easily dodged the cane, stepped in and efficiently disabled the female.

Visor signed, Your shoulder?

Sorana ignored him.

Visor inspected the chairs. There were fingernail marks in the wooden handles. Clothing that would be typical of sirens and human women were in a nearby foot locker. The heavy door to the adjoining sample storage room was cracked open. Visor beckoned Sorana over and went in. The only light for the storage room trickled in from the main lab.

They had found the sirens.

Half walls that previously sectioned off the storage room had been supplemented with floor-to-ceiling iron bars. Skins and tapestries covered the bars to effectively separate the cells. There was one female inside each makeshift cell.

In the first cage, a woman prisoner lay sleeping, facing the back wall.

In the next cage lay a Xandrian siren, awake and watching, but not reacting. Xandrians were the most slender and petite of the common sirenic strains. Her blond hair sparkled like gold in the bit of light that filtered in. Though her face had been beaten, she was still stunningly beautiful. Full, blue eyes were highlighted with azure-tainted skin and delicate features. She wore thick fur leggings. Her white cloak hung open to reveal a maroon silk cloth around her waist. Her scent was alluring ... overwhelming.

Sorana bumped Visor's wounded leg.

Pain helped Visor refocus. He continued deeper into the sample room. The next cage held a vardal female! She had the same injuries as the Xandrian. "What the hell?" He looked at Sorana.

Sorana shushed him and moved on.

The next cage was especially darkened as extra tapestries blocked the light. Visor said, "I can't see."

Sorana slid a hand up under his chain shirt and stroked his back in complex patterns.

Visor said, "Sorry, I don't understand somatic that well yet."

Sorana said, "Vardal female. She has been tortured—chest and shoulders, at least."

Pressure welled up behind his eyes as a familiar scent rolled over him. Rapture was in the next cage. Light reflected off a mirror so that he could see her red hair fall in gentle waves over her shoulders. Subdued freckles dotted her cheeks and nose under green eyes. The Godivas were the most curvaceous of common sirenic strains. That was easy to see now, even with a cloak loosely wrapped around her. He took off his helmet and dropped to his knees before her cage. "Mi Ardore!"

The sweetest of voices responded. "Don?"

# Chapter 7

Rapture

Rapture was confused. "What are you ... how—"

Don, her bound human and only love she'd ever known, was near. Her body trembled with anticipation.

"Gah!" Don jerked his arm back.

"Rapture said, "The lock is trapped."

"Thanks."

"I didn't know you were going to touch it."

"Well, I was planning to get you out."

"You know I can't see in here."

"I think it's a magnetic lock." There was some shuffling as Don dug through a bag.

Another figure moved around behind Don.

There was a mechanical click.

Then Don was next to Rapture, holding her. She stood, with his help. She was weak, yet relaxed in his arms. His scent was intoxicating. There was also a faint floral scent. "You smell like jasmine."

Don inspected her. "Oh, Mi Ardore, what did they do to you?"

"They ... suppressed us. We couldn't heal." It was hard to speak.

The person with Don adjusted a mirror. It reflected more light into Rapture's cell. "She's drugged."

Rapture looked the woman up and down. "Who is she?"

Don said, "My escort—captor. She abducted me. Sorana."

Rapture said, "Mm-hmm. What happened to your leg?"

"Sorana cut me."

"Did you deserve it?"

"You want me to leave you here?"

"Go ahead."

They struggled out of the cell to better lighting. She tried to heal him, but her healing was still suppressed.

Don asked, "Do you know how long the suppression is?"

"I don't know. They change it. I think it's starting to wear off."

Sorana asked, "The vampires suppressed her?"

Don said, "They're vampires. Cruelty is a science."

"Sometimes we could heal in our cells. And they would let us heal the vardal partner."

Sorana asked, "Your nymph healed the vardal?"

Rapture said, "Excuse me!"

"'Siren' ... she's a 'siren'." Don signed something _._ "They sense wounds on those nearby and are compelled to heal."

Sorana said, "We can't make it out like this."

Rapture said, "Well, feel free to heal us."

Sorana said, "I'm not a siren."

Rapture said, "Oh, gee, really? Hmm. Well then why don't you leave the healing to me and you just do whatever it is you do?"

They stumbled into the lab.

Sorana scouted ahead.

Don leaned Rapture against a wall and pressed against her. "How about now?"

He felt so warm and strong. Rapture placed her hand on Don's thigh. The healing energy flowed in fits and spurts. The flow was still partially suppressed, but it was relieving to heal him. She then let the healing energy flow throughout her own body. "The Xandrian ... the Marigold. Don ..."

"There's a Marigold, too?"

Rapture said, "Yes, they always kept at least one of each strain here—the major strains, at least."

Don shook his head. "I'm sorry. We can't. I'm here for you. You are the duchess. We just can't." He pulled the cloak's hood over Rapture's head, tucking her hair in. He put his helmet back on. "We'll try to come back, if we can."

"Okay."

Sorana returned with a lab coat and helped Rapture slip it on over the cloak. "She'll need boots, too." Sorana went ahead to scout. She smelled oddly for a vardal. And she spoke human without an accent.

Don asked, "What about Sorana?"

Rapture said, "What do you mean?"

"Her shoulder." He made a stabbing motion.

"She's not wounded."

"Well, she was." Don got some boots and helped Rapture get them on. He pulled up her cloak hood and tucked her hair in. He offered his arm.

Rapture took it, needing help to steady her limp. She concentrated on keeping her balance as they followed Sorana down the hallway. An armored vardal male stepped out of a storage room ahead and approached.

Rapture tried to hide her face, but he had already seen her.

He said something in vardal.

Sorana signed to him.

The male drew a weapon.

Sorana killed him.

Rapture's female vardal partner was at the entrance of the lab, screaming down the hallway and pointing.

Don pulled a vardal crossbow off his back and pointed it at the vardal woman. She ducked back into the lab.

The escaping trio reached the mess hall. There were several armored vardal inside. They were already alert and drew weapons.

Sorana started to run ahead then impatiently held up for Rapture and Don. "She is still wounded."

Don said, "No, she just has a limp—something she was born with."

Sorana signed something vigorously, gave a frustrated grunt, and headed back toward the mess hall.

Rapture started signing something back at Sorana, but Don pulled her along.

The two passed a set of stairs. Don heaved his crossbow onto the stairs, but continued down the hallway to the pool room. Water flowed out of the rock face wall from an underground stream into a pool. They circumvented the pool and entered Wescott's chambers.

Sorana caught up to them. "Two have been disabled." She signed something.

Don shut and barred the door behind them.

Rapture asked, "Now what?"

# Chapter 8

Trapped

Don said, "Look around. It's the head alchemist's chambers. Maybe there are weapons—or something we can use as a distraction."

Rapture asked, "What's upstairs?"

Don said, "A garden."

Sorana said, "I'll go." She jogged up the stairs.

Don and Rapture searched displays.

There was pounding on the door, accompanied by yelling in vardal.

Don said, "They won't hurt you. When they come in, stay away from me. Pull down your hood."

There was a shriek and an abbreviated struggle upstairs. Don helped Rapture up the stairs.

Sorana stood over a prone, unarmored vardal couple. Their equipment and clothing were strewn about nearby, as if hastily discarded for a romantic encounter.

Rapture's body told her the female was still alive.

Don inspected the scene. "They were royalty—at least she was."

Sorana pointed to an insignia and said something in vardal.

Rapture said, "Desiree."

Don asked, "Nazaire's niece?"

"Yes, we knew her. She visited the prison block sometimes—with her boyfriends, after hours."

Sorana said something in Vardal.

"We don't have any way to get her out, and killing her could put the other sirens in danger. Just leave her for now." Don stroked Desiree's armor. "I think this is harmonic metal."

Rapture said, "Harmonic metal?"

Don said, "It is lighter and stronger than steel—just harder to forge so you don't see it that often. Let's get it on you."

Sorana helped Rapture into the harmonic armor. It was finely fashioned and light. However, as they pulled it over her chest and hips, she could definitely tell the under padding was intended for a slender vardal figure.

Don continued inspecting the gear. He picked up a hand-sized rod. A rope connected a ball to the rod. He swung the ball like a pendulum. "It's heavy."

Rapture asked, "Is it a toy?"

"Maybe a model cavalry flail?"

"Or a pixie flail?"

Sorana said, "It's a monkey's fist—a slung shot if you throw it."

Don proffered it. "Do you want it?"

Sorana grabbed the monkey's fist and tugged firmly on the rope. She took a few steps away from the others and swung it a dazzling pattern of orbits. She was dancing. She smacked the ball into a branch of a tree. The impact would have fractured even an ogre's skull. "Yes."

Don picked up a dagger and stroked the blade. "Nice ... melodic metal." He knelt down in front of Rapture. He strapped the dagger scabbard around her thigh.

Rapture balanced herself off his shoulders. His touching confused her body.

Don led them to the balcony, crouching to hide from the vardal below. The waterfall from the cavern wall poured out over the balcony before collecting in the pool below. "The water isn't deep." Don took off his helm. "Sorana, can you swim in your armor?"

Sorana signed something to Don.

Don said, "She'll be fine. Sirens like the water."

Sorana pulled off her helm.

Rapture said, "You're not vampiric!"

Don said, "Actually, she's part vardal."

"What? How is that possible?"

"It's complicated."

"Whatever."

"Whatever what?"

Rapture felt her face get hot. "If you want to keep your secrets between you and your little friend, just go right ahead."

"What? It's just that we're about to die here and it will take more than a few seconds to explain."

Because I'm too slow to understand. "Fine."

Don sighed and rolled his eyes.

That little performance would be discussed later.

The pursuers were ramming the door below with something heavy.

Sorana said, "Time."

Don pointed down at the pool. "We need to jump one right after another—me first, Sorana last. Aim for the middle of the pool. Go right—over there. The exit chute is at the bottom. Don't panic. Just keep going and the current will help carry you. The flow rate is high so you won't be in the chute too long. When you come out of the dragon's mouth, you will fall into a retention pond below. Just don't panic. Don't scream during the fall, but take a breath if you can. The retention pond isn't deep. Jump to the surface for breath and find the stairs. Keep your head low."

The door to Wescott's chamber cracked loudly. Wood hit the ground.

Don asked, "Mi Ardore?"

Rapture touched his cheek. "Unto my fall."

The trio lined up at the edge of the balcony. As vardal rushed into Wescott's chamber below, Don jumped down into the pool.

Rapture followed him.

The water was a bit cool but felt so good. Rapture swam underwater to the drain, where Don opened the grate. As Don had said, the current helped carry her down the chute. Light appeared ahead. She tumbled out of an opening and was free falling for a second before she hit more water. With the armor, she sank to the bottom of the pond and stood. She adjusted her internal buoyancy to partially compensate for the armor. The surface was only a couple of feet over her head. She launched herself upward and was able to take a breath before the weight of the armor pulled her back under. She followed someone to the stairs. Soon the trio was gathered, only their heads above water.

The massive cavern about them was dimly lit by luminescent algae. Torches lit portions of the AciesMagus walls. She couldn't make out much detail. Unfortunately, the vardal and vampires saw a lot better in the dark than sirens. They would be able to spot her without difficulty.

Don said, "Our options are limited. We could take the ramp down to the Cove. At least then we'd be facing buway instead of vardal and Jortal. There are multiple ways out of the Cove."

Sorana said, "No."

"We could try the ramp back up to the market and blend in there. Maybe there's still enough commotion."

"No."

Don looked around. "Or we could double back inside the AciesMagus Proper and take the concealed passage up to the keep."

Sorana said, "Possible."

Rapture said, "I don't know, Don."

Don said, "We'd have to scale the wall over there. We'd be hidden by the mushroom farm and dragon statue. It's risky going back in, but any other way, we are out in the open."

Rapture said, "I can't get up that wall."

Don said, "We'll be fine."

Vardal shouts could be heard around the AciesMagus cavern. There was guttural-toned buway shouting as well. They found a mound of discarded mushroom against the wall. It gave them enough height to boost and lift each other over the wall. The half-breed was stronger than she looked.

Sorana led the way upstairs to the observation deck. Two guards met her as she reached the top of the stairs. She disabled them, pushing the body of one down the stairs. Sorana jerked and grunted. A crossbow bolt protruded through her thigh.

Don ran past Rapture to help.

By the time Rapture reached the observation deck, Sorana was kneeling over the third guard's prone body, ensuring his deceased status.

Sorana winced as she pulled the bolt out.

Rapture healed the wound again. Rapture's energy flow still felt weak, but it was effective as Sorana's wound clotted quickly.

Sorana pointed down toward the courtyard.

Don peaked over the side shields of the observation deck's ballista.

Rapture asked, "What?"

Don said, "I thought I heard something."  
"A troop of vardal soldiers moving toward the retention pond." Sorana sipped some water and led the way from the observation deck through a passage into an upper level of the AciesMagus. She led them through a dark maze, eventually into the storage locker. Curtains closed behind them.

Rapture said, "I can't see."

After some shuffling, a door opened and Don whispered, "Over here ... come on!" A hand took Rapture's and guided her through a cramped portal into a passage. The door closed behind them.

The passage was too dark for Rapture to see, but Don guided her. She could smell the half-vardal walking ahead of them. They were moving uphill.

The trio walked in silence for a bit, then Don started talking. He described his abduction, Mercy's tower, and his plan to get a weapon, the Catalyst, to help with the war. Rapture listed to his voice and pulled his hand close so that his arm sometimes brushed against her chest as they walked.

The passage ended in the small conference room of the surface keep. Don put his backpack on a table and started digging through it.

Rapture moved up close behind him. She put a hand on his back and stroked, feeling his muscles.

He was talking again ... about something. He turned around and Rapture slipped a hand around his neck. She pulled herself up to kiss him, and moved his hand down past her hip to her thigh. He was _so_ warm. Her body was shaking.

"Rap! Rap! I can't breathe!"

He tried to step back but Rapture stepped with him. She then comprehended his words and backed off. "Sorry! I'm sorry, Don. I know now is not the time. I'm just confused now—they did something to us."

He stepped across the room and took some deep breaths. "It's fine."

Rapture backed into a corner. She concentrated to repress her scent.

Sorana gawked at her with an expression of awe and wonder. Or maybe more like an inquisitive child.

Rapture suddenly felt self-conscious. Then perhaps a bit guilty.

Sorana actually seemed like a sweet, young lady when she wasn't killing people. She was just being terse in trying to get a mission done.

And then Rapture's abdomen was on fire. _MMMMng._ Rapture collapsed in the corner and cradled her tummy. She tried to heal herself, but the pain was not dulled.

Don said, "Mi Ardore, I'm so sorry. As soon as we're out of here and back at the Tower of Mercy, we will have time."

"No Don, it's not that. There's something wrong. It's not just missing you." Rapture felt her forehead. It was damp. "I think they gave me something—did something to me."

Don said, "Then all the more reason to hurry to Mercy. She can probably fix this."

Rapture sighed. "It's passed." She accepted a skin of water from Sorana. The cool water helped.

Sorana scouted ahead as the trio navigated the keep. They passed a prep chamber that was converted to housing for humans. Humans with the most valued labor skills were housed in the keep, a definite upgrade of quarters over the crowded and stuffy market level.

Rapture played prisoner as they passed vardal. They reached a tower and looked out the windows.

Don and Sorana discussed scaling down from there, but decided there were too many ogres mulling around outside. Getting Rapture down would be too conspicuous. They ended up taking another secret passage down to the market level, emerging in the stockade. They reached the stockade's records room.

"Step away from the siren!" Two nervous humans stepped into view, pointing their spears at Don. The voice from a hidden source said, "We have several bows trained on your woman."

# Chapter 9

Blaydon

The vardal male lifted his arms.

The Godiva siren said, "It's okay. Don't hurt them."

"Blaydon?" The vardal slowly removed his helm, revealing that he was actually a human.

"Visor?" Blaydon stepped out of hiding and studied the Godiva-strain siren more closely. If that was Visor, then this was probably his bound siren. "You rescued Rap!"

Rapture said, "Yeah, eventually."

Thorsius stepped up. "We thought you were long gone."

"Rumor was a vampire took you." Blaydon pointed his bastard sword at Sorana. "Who's this?"

Visor said, "The vampire. Sorana is my tracker now"

Blaydon studied Sorana.

Raptured said, "She's part human, but it's too complicated to explain right now."

Blaydon laughed loudly. "They sent a woman for Visor!"

Thorsius raised his hammer. "And it took him two weeks to turn her!"

Rapture said, "Oh, no, he was busy with her mother. She's a witch that gives erotic massages."

Visor said, "I specifically said _not erotic_. She was just trying to enhance my performance."

Thorsius laughed. "Cough! Manwhore!"

Visor said, "You know, just because _one time_ you—"

Blaydon waved his men to silence. "Are you coordinating with the Naiad Rangers?"

Visor said, "No, we are here just for Rapture. It's a part of the bargain with the witch. I have to run some errands for her and she's going to help me get a weapon to use against Nazaire and Khatagin. What are you doing?" He gestured at the troops.

"We got word that the Naiad Rangers were in the vicinity. The fire started and we figured something was happening."

Visor said, "That was us. It was a distraction to get down to Rap. We got there, but now the escape isn't going so well."

Blaydon slapped a hand on Visor's shoulder. "Let's fix that. To the Cove?"

Visor nodded. "A ship would be nice."

Blaydon said, "Infantry on me. You on point. Archers around the siren." He marched across the market to the cove ramp. A single vardal spotted the human group, but kept his distance. The portcullis at the entrance of the cove ramp was still damaged from the vardal-Jortal-buway assault.

Visor said, "The gate guards are gone."

Blaydon handed Visor a bow. "Do you know how to use this?"

"The string staff? Sure."

"What?"

"Yes, I can."

"All right, let's do this!"

Visor said, "They'll be slow in the cold. The buway are cold-blooded, like the vardal snakes. They are, in fact, related to snakes. They have a lot of lizard qualities, biologically speaking, like a movable upper jaw."

"Interesting." Blaydon led the way down the ramp. "Tell me about the guards of the AciesMagus."

Visor summarized the vardal defensive positions around the fortress and the location of the prisoners. Then he described more of his encounter with the witch Mercy, the capabilities of Sorana, and his quest for the Catalyst. "So now we're the Hand of Mercy."

"The 'Hand of Mercy', eh? You might want to change that to something a little more ... a little less—how about 'Fist of Mercy'?"

"That does sound better."

A dozen buway lounged around a fire near the lower end of the ramp. The fire reflected off their green scales. They held corroded spears and tridents in their webbed, clawed hands.

Blaydon gave the order and his archers fired. Then he led the infantry charge. The buway groaned and shouted guttural warnings as they died. It was a quick skirmish against the lethargic lizards. Blaydon didn't pause, setting a brisk pace along the edge of the cove.

There was a commotion to the rear of the group. A few humans approached from behind and started conversing with Visor. Some were children. Damn, that will complicate things. "Visor! Shut them up!" The waterfall covering the Cove's lake entrance might mask their sound. And buway had poor vision so they might be able to avoid being spotted. But the buway had a good sense of smell.

The humans used stalagmites to conceal their movement along the cavern's edge. Blaydon and his infantry skirted past a group of buway lounging near the docked _Ardor Crest._ The _Ardor Crest_ was WaterCrescent's flagship, and it was full of buway. It would be a long fight, and hard for the Fist of Mercy to man the craft. Blaydon led his troops further around the cove. Another group of buway was close to the _Luvian_. The _Luvian_ was a good choice. It was moored near the exit falls, and easy to sail.

Blaydon charged the buway. He and his infantry started with the upper hand against the unwary buway, but more were emerging from the _Luvian_. _Where was his archer support?_

Blaydon looked back. His archers were skirmishing with a pair of vardal.

Visor was escorting the siren and children away from the melee.

One of the vardal was in full tactical assault plate armor. An arrow struck it, snapping and falling harmlessly to the ground.

Blaydon said, "Archers on the lizards! Infantry to the plate! Knock him down!"

The other vardal wore the more common mail armor. That one stood at a distance with a heavy crossbow. He fired a bolt that passed through an archer's chest and sank into a spearman's gut. _Damn that vardal metal!_ Blaydon pointed to the spearman. "Rap! Get him up!"

Blaydon charged the crossbow-wielding vardal. The vardal dropped the crossbow and drew a short sword. Blaydon had the vardal by fifty pounds and six inches. Blaydon slammed into the vardal, who gave ground but managed to retain his balance.

The vardal side stepped Blaydon's subsequent attack and pressed his hands to Blaydon's shoulder and chest. Blaydon felt barbs stick him. This bugger was a vampire.

A shock of electricity jolted Blaydon's body. His muscles locked up, and he fell to the ground.

The vampire leaned down. He pinned Blaydon's left arm with a knee, then drew his short sword and positioned it for a kill stroke. But the sword fell harmlessly to the ground. The vampire's hand fell with it.

Sorana gripped the vampire's forearm stump. A bloody, serrated dagger protruded from her armguard. She punched the vampire in the face with brass knuckles, knocking him to the ground. She set a boot on the vampire's chest, leaned down, and dragged the serrated blade across his neck.

Without pausing, she withdrew a rod from a holster on her thigh. She snapped it outward so that momentum activated a telescoping function, increasing the rod's length. She swung it in a wide arc, inches above Blaydon's head. She knocked back a snake. She pinned it with her rod and boot, then cut it in half.

She executed her attack as one continuous motion, as if it were a dance move she'd practiced hundreds of times before.

Blaydon recovered his equilibrium and surveyed the scene. The plate armored vardal was staggering. Two spearmen kept him off balance while Thorsius pounded away with his hammer. One of the spearheads snapped off against the vardal armor. Still, his men should be able to finish the vardal eventually.

Blaydon charged the remaining buway, who were about to overrun the archers.

Sorana followed him, flinging throwing stars as she closed.

Blaydon and Sorana efficiently downed the remaining buway.

Blaydon tallied the damage. One archer and one infantry were dead. Rapture could heal the rest. Now was the time to deal with the tagalongs. "Athian! What are you doing here?"

Athian said, "Sorry—I just saw Thorsius heading down the ramp and we followed. The kids—"

"You could have gotten us all killed!" Blaydon waved Athian to silence. "Never mind. Get Kaytla and the kids on the _Luvian._ Go with the Fist of Mercy. Thor, you as well. The rest of you, with me! We're going for the Marigold and Xandrian."

Visor said, "Blaydon—"

Blaydon spun and said, "What!"

Visor held up his hands. "Good luck."

"You said you killed several in the AciesMagus. They are in disarray, weakened, and hunting you. And you did it with just you and the tracker."

Visor said, "We could come with you. With all of us—"

"Make Rap safe. We'll catch up with you. You'll probably draw some pursuit away from us anyway. Discussion over. Go before more buway come! K-twelve, with me!" Blaydon headed for the AciesMagus.

# Chapter 10

The Fist of Mercy

"It's worse than last time." Rapture cradled her abdomen. She wheezed and sucked in air through clenched teeth.

Visor knelt and rubbed her shoulders. "I'm sorry."

She nodded and clenched her jaw. "It's not you." She grasped a strap and pulled him closer. "But this helps."

"Bearing ten degrees!" Athian adjusted the Luvian's wheel. His hair was light blond and just touched his shoulders. It was matted to his face by mist that drifted from the waterfall. He was maybe an inch shorter than Rapture, and notably fit. The bard had the most experience sailing.

Thorsius and Kaytla adjusted their ore strokes. The Luvian now pointed toward the mist section, off to the side of the main falls.

Athian said, "Straighten out and steady."

Visor stroked Rapture's cheek and kissed her forehead.

She stopped whimpering.

He didn't know what to say. "Mercy can probably fix this."

Rapture nodded weakly.

Visor used his cloak to cover her as they passed through the mist of the falls.

There was a hard cracking sound. The Luvian lurched and Visor crashed against the cabin wall.

"Whoa crap!" said Thorsius.

Kaytla cried out.

Visor crawled to look down at the row deck. There was a crack in the hull and water was spraying in.

Athian said, "Oh, my goodness!"

Visor said, "We hit a rock, but shook loose."

Athian said, "We're still going to sink!" He turned toward the cabin where the kids hid. "Divin! Holley! Look around in there for something to plug it! And look for a bucket!"

Visor said, "Yeah, but we have some time. We can't go back. We need to make as much distance as we can."

Athian said, "We'll be easy targets on the tundra. It's days walking to the cover of Skarholt forest."

Visor looked east and west. "You're right. We'll have to land at Kalafels. We can make the foothills by nightfall. We can evade them in the peaks and then double back north. We'll take the long way around."

Athian said, "Bearing fifteen degrees! Sorana, Visor, grab ores."

Visor got into position and pulled his ore. "Even if the vardal are mounted, we might be fine if we can get a few hours head start."

Thorsius grunted. "And what about the ogres?"

Visor said, "They're faster and more adapted to the cold."

Thorsius said, "But?"

"But nothing."

## ***************

The Fist of Mercy beached the _Luvian_ on the west shore of Keening Lake. They grabbed what supplies they could easily carry and set out for the Kalafels foothills. Divin and Holley were pre-teens, but strong enough to keep a good pace. Holley was at least moderately autistic, but seemed able to focus on and follow Divin. The speed was limited by Rapture. She still cradled her abdomen as they walked.

Thorsius said, "She's getting weaker."

Visor said, "We may have to carry her."

"That'll be hard."

Visor looked back to the lake. "It's clear for now."

Thorsius said, "Only cavalry could catch us—and ogres."

"Yeah but ogres are too lazy to run that far. We have another three hour hike to terrain that will hinder the cavalry. Blaydon, the Naiad Rangers, or someone has given us time." Visor scanned the terrain ahead for cover. "How would we take down cavalry?"

Thorsius looked around. "We couldn't. Well, we would go for the mount—wound it with range weapons or break its legs. Then we'd try to knock the vardal down. Damn vardal are agile though. And most of our weapons won't pierce the plate, if it's heavy cavalry."

Visor asked, "What kind of weapon would we need?"

Thorsius considered a moment. "A ballista or other siege weapon would pierce it."

"With what we got off the Luvian."

"With a hand weapon, you have to have a lot of metal. My hammer will ring up the vardal inside, but the metal doesn't bend much."

"It's the shockwave. And the flanged mace?"

"Sort of. You'd have to be pretty strong. Your sword just becomes a grab and stab. No way you slash a gap."

"What about your hammer's back spike for piercing?"

Thorsius shook his head. "Good against our plate, not theirs."

Visor said, "Their melodic metal is just that much harder than our steel?"

Thorsius said, "It's way better. Our steel—we pound it out, mix, pound, heat. They just make a current, melt it and bang—perfect steel."

"Any desired balance of hardness and resilience."

"Then to make the suit, they just arc a perfect weld. We have to measure, mark, punch, and set rivets. Then we still have weak points at the seams."

"They've got to have gaps. They have to move."

"They're smaller."

Visor said, "What if they're wearing the symphonic plates, like the females usually do?"

Thorsius said, "Yeah, the symphonic metal isn't as hard as the melodic stuff. Sometimes we can pierce it."

Visor said, "They wear it for the decoration."

Thorsius readjusted his back pack. "The harmonic metal is the best stuff. It's strong like melodic, but lighter. You can't work it—our forge doesn't soften it. It doesn't get hot enough. But then I never got a chance to try it, myself."

Visor said, "Yeah, that's because it's a different base metal, not iron."

Thorsius looked at him sideways. "You've never worked in a forge."

"I read a book. I was just wondering how accurate it was. Do you know how vardal smelt the metals?"

"A little bit."

Visor said, "Vardal smelt and forge metal with electric currents, as you said. They work in teams and the combined electrical currents sync up to make patterns of colors. Remember the vardal smiths are dark—almost pitch black, not just dim like ours—and they see an extra color beyond red that we don't."

"Yeah—I never got that."

"It's invisible to us. Anyway, during the process, the electrical impulses are timed in such a way that they make a 'melody of lights'. That's where the melodic metal got its name. Symphonic metal uses a mix of different metals, so it uses a lot more currents and takes longer. The forging process looks more like a symphony so that's where its name came from. Symphonic metal was initially used in construction of tools and plumbing applications since it is resistant to corrosion. But nobles started using it in their decorative armor. The lustrous quality became a sign of prosperity. Eventually, it became a fashion to include some symphonic metal on all female armor."

Thorsius asked, "You got that from a book?"

Visor said, "It was detailed book."

"Well, I don't know about everything you said. Sounds like it could be right."

"Operatic metal is so named because of the intense concentration required. It requires even more heat than harmonic does. They have to time the currents just right so that the mettle hardens but doesn't become brittle. But done right, Operatic metal is so hard that only a diamond can scratch it. It's heavy, though. That's why they use if for ammunition, not armor."

Thorsius asked, "From a book? Who would know all that?"

Visor said, "I suppose a master vardal blacksmith—"

"Heiliger Mond! Gah!" Rapture screamed and fell to the ground. She curled up and clutched her abdomen.

Visor ran to her.

Her face was flushed—her teeth clenched. Tears leaked from her eyes.

"Rap. What is it? What can I do?"

She cried and writhed on the ground.

Visor said, "It's the armor! Help me get it off!"

Rapture said, "Don't touch me!"

Visor knelt over her.

She was looking at something.

He followed her eyes to a snow leopard crouching on a snow drift several yards away. The bright blue eyes stood out against a background of white fur with black spots in front of a wall of snow and shadow. It was maybe seventy pounds. That made it a juvenile or small adult.

Sorana crept near it, baton and monkey's fist at the ready.

The cat pinned its ears back and veered away from Sorana.

Rapture lay her right arm out on the ground, hand extended, reaching for the cat.

The cat slunk to Rapture, still wary of Sorana's following.

Visor placed his fist on the ground so that his arm protected Rapture's neck, careful not to touch her.

The cat placed its muzzle in Rapture's hand. It licked her palm and moved in closer.

Rapture lifted her hand to the cat's neck and stroked its fur.

The cat moved up to her and lay against her abdomen. It purred.

She cradled the cat as if it were a child. She pressed her hands against the cat's body. Rapture's face relaxed. She rolled to lie on her back.

The cat put its front paws across her chest and sat patiently, licking its paws.

Visor cradled her head. "Rap. What ...."

Rapture said, "I don't know, Don. But the pain is gone ... mostly."

"A ship! It's the _Ardor Crest_!" Athian looked through a scope. "They have vardal cavalry—at least three. And some ogres."

# Chapter 11

Kalafels

The Fist of Mercy evaded their pursuers, stopping only when it became too dark to safely move. It was getting dark again, after a short night and long day on the run. It was colder tonight and they needed more substantial shelter, particularly for Rapture and Holley. They'd followed human tracks to a cave.

A human archer sat up in a perch above the cave entrance. He was, perhaps, eighteen. He wore a lined cloak over some home-made light leather armor. He pointed a knocked arrow at Visor. "How do I know you're not Talon's Gauntlet?"

Visor held his hands up and out, stepping within conversation range. That was pretty close because of the approaching winter storm. "I don't know who Talon is. I have an advisor ring of the late Lord Mourning. I'm Mourning's brother, in fact." Visor held up his hand to show the ring. "That's how I got the job."

The archer said, "That could be fake, or stolen"

Visor said, "Do we look like thieves? And the seal is too hard to fake. You'd have to look closer though."

The archer frowned.

Visor said, "I'll take that to mean you don't know what the seal looks like. Then tell me—who is Talon?"

The archer said, "A bounty hunter. He's paid by the Raykez merchants to capture and return us."

"We have kids with us."

"So do we. That doesn't prove anything."

Visor said, "I have a siren."

The archer's demeanor changed. "You have a siren?"

"Yes, I do."

"Show her."

Visor said, "Unknock your arrow."

The archer lowered his bow.

Visor signaled Thorsius, who walked closer to the perch, empty hands in plain view.

Rapture limped behind him. When he stopped, she stepped partially out from behind Thorsius and pulled back her hood.

The archer dropped his bow. He gripped the edge of the perch and hung his body down. He dropped a couple of feet to the ground. He never took his eyes off of Rapture. He stumbled up a steep incline from the mouth of the cave. He slowed while passing Visor, then took a few more steps and knelt awkwardly. "Bitte, Engel Godiva. I'm Liefer, of Raykez. My uncle is dying. He's in the cave. Please help us."

## **************

Liefer stoked the fire. "The merchant guilds are becoming more aggressive. They joined together to establish the Com—the Trade Commission. It is a tool for destroying competition. They have levied taxes without the consent of the Symphonic Knights or the sheriff. Their thugs raid non-Com guilds and take whatever they want."

Visor asked, "Why don't the Symphonic Knights intervene?"

Liefer said, "The Knights are weak right now. A lot are off with General Presence. Others have abandoned to defend their homes against marauding ogre bands."

Athian said, "There are some internal political struggles as well."

Liefer said, "Then there is the threat of the Dodelige cult."

Visor asked, "The Dodelige?"

Liefer said, "Yeah, people thought it was dead. Now they're back, saying the end of the world is near."

Athian said, "The Dodelige, some people think, is a satanic cult. Rumor is that they are actually trying to bring about the end of the world. They are being blamed for much of the chaos taking place in Raykez."

Liefer swung his head to get hair out of his face. "The Com passed a special tax on our orchestra's property. My uncle is the guild master and conductor. He organized an exodus. We gathered up what we could carry and fled. Some brought their families. A Com enforcer, Talon, pursued us—and still does as far as we know."

"He does." Sorana didn't make eye contact. She slowly chewed a nut from her stash. "At least some professional does."

Visor said, "I had no idea it had gotten so bad. What about the combined army? Does General Presence know what's going on?"

Liefer said, "He is still tied up in the deep south pushing back the buway incursions. They raided Vozvul about six months ago."

Visor said, "That left the north—WaterCrescent—standing alone for attack from the ogres and vardal. That was convenient for them."

Liefer asked, "What do they want? To kill us? Enslave us?"

Thorsius said, "They won't take Raykez. It's too big."

Liefer said, "At least with this storm, we may be safe for a time. It'll cover our tracks. And not even Talon's Gauntlet can pass through this, except for his ogres."

Thorsius grimaced. "He has ogres?"

Liefer said, "He has everything—a pixie, cavalry, cooks, artillery, and a lot of money."

Visor said, "Likely, he has everything else because of the money."

Rapture walked in from the sleeping chamber. She joined the group, sitting on her knees next to Visor.

Visor rubbed her back and kissed her neck.

Sorana studied him with steady, amber eyes.

Rapture said, "Everyone's bruises and fractures are taken care of. I reduced your uncle's infection. I can't grow back the hand."

Liefer said, "I know".

"Okay, just some humans don't." She smiled in apology. "But your uncle will be fine. Everyone will." Her cat sauntered up and lay against her thigh.

Visor said, "It was one thing to blitz WaterCrescent—an isolated fortress—with ogres that circumvented the defensive benefits of the location, but Raykez would be a long campaign against a larger population in unfriendly territory. It would have to be a slow advance to maintain supply lines. Maybe they plan to recruit more ogre tribes. Perhaps Khatagin's tribe is bigger than we think. Nazaire's vardal would give them the organization, but to feed and control a standing ogre army would be difficult."

Liefer asked, "Then why Raykez—to what end?

Visor rubbed Rapture's back. "I don't know. Let's go over what we know."

# Chapter 12

Captivity

Visor said, "Athian, move closer to Liefer. Hold up your book."

Rapture said, "And there was always a guard—at least one by the door, and usually another somewhere behind us."

Visor pointed at the viola player. "You—you are a vardal guard. Go stand by the door. Thorsius, go stand behind the girls ... but between them."

Thorsius positioned himself between and behind Rapture and Sorana.

Rapture said, "Both guards were girls. So was the recorder."

Visor said, "Okay, Thor, you're a girl. And Liefer is the interrogator. That's all I remember from what we talked about before. Five people?"

"I think so. It's hard to remember. You know, the drugs. And at first I was so scared that I don't remember those times."

"It's fine. And what did Liefer do?"

Rapture said, "She just kind of gave instructions. She'd talk with the recorder at the beginning, and then be in and out for the rest of the session. She would give us the drugs, sometimes."

"'She? Were they all females?"

"Not all. Most were, at least to start with—when they asked questions and did the testing. Then when they hit us, they would usually have men do that."

"They asked questions before that. What kind of questions?"

"Well most days, they would go through the same list: 'How are you feeling? Do you have any lasting pain? Trouble breathing or seeing? Is there any food you want? Is your healing functioning normally?'"

"Oh, I didn't realize that was every day. Did they do the physical examination every day, too?"

"You mean where they look in your mouth and stuff? Yeah."

"Really? Mouth, eyes ... what else?"

"They'd listen to our heart and breathing, after they made us exercise."

"Exercise?"

"Lift weights—do this." Rapture did a half-hearted squat. "Then they'd check us, like our spine and sides of our necks. And they wrote stuff down."

"So after the questions at the beginning, what did they ask?"

"Nothing. They pretty much ignored what we said. Sometimes they would write it down."

"When did—" Visor spoke to everyone. "Okay—thanks everyone. I'll let you get back to whatever you need to do." He led Rapture to their sleeping nook, motioning for Sorana to follow as well. The three kneeled in a close circle and he spoke in a lower tone only they could hear. "When did they stop torturing you?"

Rapture said, "What do you mean?"

"Well, presumably, captors would torture you until you gave up information or until they gave up for the session. But if they didn't ask questions, when did they stop?

"Oh. They were counting."

Visor asked, "They counted?"

"Yes, the recorder would count. They made sure they always did the same stuff to the vardal girl. Well, sometimes they did her first."

"The same thing to each of you or the same thing to her every time?"

"The same thing to me and her. It wasn't every day."

"Like how often, then? I'm sorry to ask. I know this is awkward to talk about. I'm trying to be clear so I can figure out what their intentions were."

"I know, Don—it's okay. Some days, they would just do the testing and questions. When they hit us, it was different for other sirens. I think some of the others—they would cut them." She gestured, struggling for words. "Not to kill them, but enough to make them bleed and be something you'd want to heal. And one time they took me and my partner out early. They weren't done with a Marigold yet. We had to watch while they beat her and her partner. They were hitting her—punching her—down here." Rapture motioned to a lower region on her own body.

Sorana said, "The Xandrian's face."

Visor said, "Along with her partner."

"They strapped the Xandrian to the chair. For me, they used the overhead chains and usually ... you know ... my chest."

Visor asked, "You mean like with ... not with something that's going to, you know ..."

"Yeah, just like, usually with weapons that, you know ..."

Sorana said, "With whips and canes, but not cutting weapons or heavy blunts that would do real damage?"

"Yes." Rapture nodded. "And wires."

Sorana asked, "Permanent marks?"

"Well ..." Rapture pushed her cloak back over her shoulders and unbuttoned the lab coat. "Sometimes needles. And I passed out once, so I don't know." She pulled her shirt up.

"I'm not sure, but if you look here and here..." Visor pointed.

Sorana said, "Piercings as for body jewelry."

Visor asked, "And they let you heal ... sometimes. Did they record that too?"

Rapture let her shirt fall down. "I don't know. Sometimes, they would turn the suppression off after we went back to the cells so the recorder wasn't there. I suppose the vardal partner could have told."

Visor said, "And all of the sirens were celled next to their partners."

"Yes, why? What is it?"

Visor said, "I don't think they were torturing you. This was a research experiment. It had control subjects and procedures. They were researching your healing—the effect of sirenic healing on vardal. They're looking for the effectiveness under duress. I think they're ...."

"They're what!"

Visor said, "They're not after Raykez. They're trying to capture sirens."

Rapture's eyes grew big. "Xandria? Oh, Heiliger Mond! Don!"

## ***************

Rapture sat cross-legged, absently stroking the snow leopard in her lap. She was in the most private place she could find in the small cave system—an alcove of their sleeping nook.

Her eyes focused past the wall she faced. Xandria ... the Catalyst ... the snowstorm ... her rescue. They needed to get to Xandria to warn it. Would Raykez respond? Or would the humans be too absorbed with in-fighting and the loss of WaterCrescent? And this winter storm kept them trapped far away in an isolated cave. How long would it go on? Don would be able to save Xandria with something called the Catalyst, if only he could reach the Tower of Mercy in time. Would he already have the Catalyst had he not chosen to rescue her first? How long would their binding last? How comforting did he find Mercy?

Sorana approached and knelt beside her. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but didn't. She stroked Rapture's hair and patted her back. She rubbed Rapture's shoulders. It felt nice ... relaxing. She kissed Rapture's neck.

Rapture pulled away. "What are you doing?"

The snow leopard whined.

Sorana froze. She released a scent of panic.

Rapture let her gaze wander back to the wall.

In time, Sorana hugged her again. The women swayed gently in unison. Sorana spoke in a whisper. "What was it like?"

Rapture said, "Xandria ... my home ... the city of grace. It's always beautiful—always peaceful. We can't defend ourselves from the vardal, or the ogres. The humans protect us. Unless more come, we are lost."

"What was it like in the AciesMagus?"

# Chapter 13

Ghost Story

"Come on, who else has one?" Athian gesticulated, coaxing the group to respond.

Thorsius said, "There's _The Voice in the Piccolo_."

Athian said, "Blah, a real story. Come on, Rap? Any sirenic ghosts?"

Rapture shook her head gently. She was still preoccupied.

Athian said, "If no one has any, I'm going to have Liefer give us more music history lessons! Sorana, you might know something we've never heard."

Sorana said, "I don't know any ghost stories. I only read books from Mother's library."

"And there are no stories in the library?"

"It only has history books and training manuals."

"Well, anything in there that's scary ... or mysterious?"

Sorana thought for a bit. "The history books have folklore. There is something that you might consider scary—the story of the Mortal Banshee."

The room fell silent. Eyes shifted about uncomfortably. Athian dropped his hands—and his smile. Kaytla grabbed her children and left. One of the musicians put a hand on his son's shoulder.

Visor said, "Well, Sorana, that story means different things to different people. Some consider it a serious subject."

One of the dozen musicians said, "Serious? It's not even real."

Athian said, "Well I heard it was a siren gone mad that started the fire."

A man holding a brass horn said, "Not a siren—a banshee ... the last banshee. She drove the entire farmstead mad and the fire was an accident."

Visor asked, "So this single banshee simply lived by herself the past thousand years or so since her race has been extinct?"

A woman, the oboe player, said, "Or it could have just been an accidental fire and the story was made up to cover it up."

Thorsius asked, "If it was an accident—"

Visor said, "Were."

Thorsius said, "—then why all the weapon wounds on the bodies?"

The oboist said, "The official records were lost, and other records conflicted. They didn't even get to the Silent Hands until days after the fire. Think how it smelled and looked. Do you think they searched through the bodies? They probably just took a look and decided something horrible happened and the story started from there."

Athian said, "Why don't we let Sorana tell us her version. It might be interesting to hear the vardal view."

Sorana moved closer to the fire and sat on her knees, as others had done when telling their stories. "This would have been three hundred years ago. In those days, the Raykez orphanage was part of the White Heart Mission, not the Siren Sanctuary. The White Heart gave an orphan girl to a home that needed another work hand at the Idle Hands farmstead. Silent Hands was called the Idle Hands before the burning.

"She was fed, but never accepted as family. As a child, she was treated as a servant, for labor and comfort. With time, her treatment worsened. The protocol at home extended to the farmstead." Sorana stared into the fire, "Everywhere she turned, there was only scorn, ridicule, or outright hostility. The actions of the farmstead were ... unconscionable."

Sorana leaned toward the fire. It reflected in her pupils, discoloring her amber eyes to a metallic copper. She whispered, "Torture ... humiliation ... bestiality. In time, a White Heart missionary discovered the situation and took her back to Raykez, to the White Heart Mission. There, he rebuilt her spirit in the image of the White Heart. He taught her about the Rapture, when judgment would be passed and all would be found guilty.

"She discovered her place in the world. She began to venture out from the White Heart Sanctuary by night. And in the streets of Raykez, she passed judgment. Over the following weeks, she killed at least 23 men and boys. Then, when the Aurora signaled the time of Rapture, she returned to the Idle Hands Farmstead. The residents were assembled in the chapel. She barred the doors from the outside and burned the chapel. She killed the would-be rescuers. Then she entered the fire, dying with the farmstead victims. In memorial, the farmstead was renamed the Silent Hands.

"The missionary was found flayed on the altar at the White Heart Sanctuary. Records of the events were pieced together through heresay."

There was a moment of silence. Then Athian said, "That is quite monstrous, and hard to believe. What would drive people to that?"

The oboist said, "That would be pure insanity! Maybe one cruel stepfather, but so many? What are the odds? There were women there, right? They wouldn't all be that mean. Catty—sure, but not needlessly cruel. It's a farmstead, not an ogre mound."

Someone else said, "And what with the teenage girl overpowering field hands?"

Athian said, "It's just another version of the same old story. Really—how could anyone know so much detail?"

Sorana shrugged and sat back.

Visor asked, "Sorana, was this written in a Tome of Mercy?"

Sorana signed, _Yes_.

## ***************

Visor jogged back into the cave.

Kaytla waited for him in front of the fire room. "In a hurry?"

Visor stopped. "It's freezing out there!"

Kaytla said, "I see you shivering. How is the storm?"

"'Your', and it's letting up. Unfortunately, there's a cold front."

"I see." Kaytla held up her pointer finger. "I just wanted you to know that when we leave, I won't be going with you, if you take that woman. And I don't care if you get Athian to follow you."

"Sorana? Look, she hasn't been around people for most of her life. She's just a bit awkward."

"Awkward? She's insane! Dangerous!" Kaytla waved. "I'm not here to argue. I'm not letting my children near her. If you were smart, you'd get away from her, too."

"Kaytla—" Visor started but she was walking off. He made his way to the fire room. He pulled back the skins that covered the tunnel to the perch. He shouted up the tunnel, "Thor! You still there?"

Thorsius shouted back down the tunnel. "Yeah! Still got a while on my shift! It's getting cold, though!"

"Okay, man! I'm headed to bed! Come get me if you need an early relief!" Visor walked past the dining chamber back to the sleeping room. He found his spot next to Rapture and lay down. He pinned his hands between his knees, trying to warm them up before touching her.

After partially drifting off, he became aware that someone was standing over him. He looked up at Sorana.

She pulled off most of her armor, lay down and scooted up next to him. "Hold me."

He did.

Sorana was cold. She was lean and toned compared to Rapture, and she had the normal body odor of a human. She eventually warmed up and fell asleep. She moved sporadically throughout the night. She started and woke him at least three times. She whimpered once.

Half-asleep, he asked, "What's wrong?"

Sorana said, "Oh it's just ... Jarrod."

Visor was on a bridge. He fell and hit his head. Then he was sitting up, and realized that it was actually an ogre's club that had struck his head. His father asked if he were okay. The dream ended as he awoke to an alarmed Liefer's yelling.

"Ogres!" said Liefer. "Two of them! Everyone up!"

# Chapter 14

Ogre

Thorsius said, "They haven't found us yet."

Visor kneeled behind Thorsius in the perch, along with Liefer and Sorana. "But they will. There's too much evidence—too many trails—with all of us staying here."

Liefer asked, "What do we do? We could concentrate on the one in plate leggings. He's got no armor up top. We just need to distract one long enough to get the first one down."

Thorsius said, "Whoever is distracting is going to die. The ogres'll crush ya, no matter what you're wearing."

Visor said, "The ground is slippery. We can't count on dodging."

Thorsius said, "Dogging an ogre attack isn't easy anyways. People think they could, but their reach is too wide. And they're not as slow as they look."

Visor said, "People are thinking of them as large humans."

Thorsius said, "Well, they kinda are. Just fat."

Visor said, "But large men tend to be uncoordinated because they had some kind of growth abnormality. Humans aren't designed to be nine feet tall. But look at these ogres with their huge feet, thick legs and relatively small shoulders and head. Their bones and muscles are designed to move and balance that weight."

Liefer sighed and stroked his head. "Maybe we could take down both before they reach us. I could take the plated one—you two on the leather-clad. Or we could draw them into the tunnel and surround them at the fire room."

Thorsius said, "Use their size against them."

Visor said, "We'd need a trap in the main entry."

Thorsius pointed. "Look."

Two more ogres were further away, also searching the area. Damn.

Liefer said, "We could pay them off. Some of the instruments are brass."

Thorsius said, "Nah, you can't bribe an ogre. They're basically animals."

Visor said, "They've been known to kill sirens."

Liefer sighed and dropped his head.

Visor said, "If some of us make a break for it, and head straight down the steep slope, we might be able to keep ahead of them for a few minutes. I think I could slide down—lead them off long enough. Then the rest of you run down the path and head straight to Alafos."

Sorana said, "No, you would die."

Visor said, "Well, yes Sorana, but some of you could escape. I need you to get Rapture to Xandria, and then maybe to Mercy."

Sorana said, "No."

Visor said, "What do you suggest?"

Sorana said, "Kill the ogres."

Liefer guffawed.

Thorsius shook his head, mumbling something unkind.

Visor asked, "What do you mean?"

Sorana said, "It would be best to kill them."

Liefer wrinkled his face. "Are you saying you can kill them?"

Sorana looked at them. "There is some risk."

Liefer squinted. "Are you saying you've killed ogres before? By yourself?"

Sorana said, "Few in the field. They are rarely the targeted asset."

Liefer said, "Field? What are you talking about?"

Visor said, "Assassination—she's talking about assassination. Sorana, do you think you can kill these ogres?"

Sorana slipped off the perch, landing softly below. She crouched and made her way to the slope opposite the cave entrance. She turned and signed, _I will tell you when to fire._

Visor translated for the other two. "Stay here and don't shoot until I say." Thorsius cocked his crossbow. Liefer and Visor knocked arrows.

Liefer said, "What if they shoot back."

Thorsius said, "Doubt we'll get that lucky."

Visor said, "The best tactic against ogres is range combat. They're bigger targets, and not particularly accurate with range weapons. Longbows are best if you're behind fortifications or protected by infantry. Ideally, you use horse archers in the open field."

Sorana crested the slope and started across the clearing to the closer pair of ogres, who were just inside a thin tree line. When she got close to them, she began lurching and holding her right arm awkwardly.

The plated ogre noticed her first. "What are you doing here? Stop! Who are you?"

Sorana gestured to the ogre as she approached and said something. Visor could hear her voice but couldn't decipher her words with the wind noise and the ogre grunts. As she closed with the plated ogre, she waved him closer, as if to show him something. As he closed, she tripped and stumbled toward him. She threw a handful of dirt in his face.

He covered his face and grasped blindly for her.

She dodged his wild reaching and stepped in close. She shoved her dagger up under the ogre's belt and twisted.

He doubled over with a horrible groan.

Sorana spun away from his uncoordinated back hand slap. She ran behind him and drug her dagger across the neutered ogre's heal. He fell to a knee and then on his arse.

Sorana hurled a throwing star at the second ogre. It didn't seem to do any damage, but it distracted him momentarily. She moved behind the plate ogre's body, using it as cover against the leather ogre's sweeping club attack.

The leather ogre stepped over the plate ogre's body and swung his club again.

Sorana side-stepped the attack and fired a dart at the ogre's head.

The leather ogre grunted and grasped its face.

Sorana drew the monkey's fist spun it up to speed. Visor couldn't actually see the weapon from the distance, but could infer its use from her dancing movement. She smacked the ogre in the head then turned and sprinted toward the perch. She glanced back and slowed, allowing the ogre to remain temptingly close.

Sorana signed to Visor then jumped down the slope.

Visor Translated. "Fire." The three men fired.

Visor's arrow stuck in a hardened section of the ogre's armor, and Liefer's impaled its thigh. It was enough to cause the ogre to stumble down the slope and fall to a knee near the cave entrance.

Sorana bounded off the cave wall, changing direction and staying just out of the ogre's reach. The archers fired again, sinking two arrows into the ogre's back. It fell flat.

Sorana ran over the ogre's back, kneeling as she passed to make an efficient cut just below the base of his skull. She jogged back into the clearing as the second pair of ogres reached the tree line.

One of the ogres—a female—wore thick skins but no visible armor; the other wore a mail vest and wielded an axe and shield.

Sorana signed for the archers to concentrate on the female ogre. Sorana got the ogres' attention and then ran along the tree line, further down the clearing.

They pursued.

Visor said, "Target just the female."

The three humans fired, at least one of them hitting the female ogre. She turned and ran at them. One arrow of the second volley sunk into the ogre's chest, slowing but not felling her. Thorsius dropped his crossbow in favor of his war hammer. He stood up on the edge of the perch.

The ogre swung a club at him.

Thorsius dogged it and jumped off the edge of the perch. The club impacted the perch, vibrating the stone and sending stone shards flying.

The ogre thrust the handle end of her club down at Thorsius, out of Visor's line of sight.

Visor stepped forward to the edge of the perch and sunk an arrow into the ogre's lower back. Liefer shot it in the neck, and it fell.

Visor lowered himself off the perch and checked Thorsius. The ogre had crushed his leg and possibly a hip. Visor pointed at Liefer. "Get Rap! Help Thor." Visor climbed up the slope and made his way to the tree line.

Sorana was kiting the mailed ogre through trees, staying ahead of him but remaining teasingly close. She ran under a low branch and made a sharp turn to get behind two close trees she could use as cover. She hurled her monkey fist, which bounced harmlessly off the ogre's thick metal helmet. She followed that with a throwing dagger that stuck in his bicep. She sprinted off.

The frustrated ogre pulled out the dagger and chased her.

Visor concealed himself behind a bush.

Soon, as Visor expected, Sorana led the ogre past him.

Visor sunk an arrow into the ogre's shoulder, right through the loose mesh mail.

He snarled and stopped to look for Visor. Turning his back on Sorana proved quickly fatal.

Sorana pounced behind the ogre and made some swift attacks.

The ogre collapsed forward, paralyzed.

Sorana walked up the ogre's back and knelt on his shoulder. "Go to Thorsius." She slid her dagger across the ogre's neck. "I will finish here."

# Chapter 15

Aura

"Four of them?" Liefer's uncle asked.

Liefer said, "We did. Well, mostly she did." He gestured at Sorana, sitting off alone, cleaning her weapons and eating nuts. "They were huge! And they were loaded—gold coins and two skins of vardal spirits. It may be weak when we water it down, but it's better than melted snow!"

Visor sat leaning against the wall. "Weak for some of us".

Rapture lay comfortably against his chest. "You can kiss my little white patooey. You know, just because you can drink nasty gut rot that makes you stupid ..."

He stroked her hair. "It's not a competition. I'm just saying—you got the healing and the wind pipes. We get the immune system and, you know, the brains."

Rapture smacked his leg. "Oh! You just keep going! Anything else? Cause I'm—"

"It's ready! Vardal spirits for all!" Athian walked in carrying mugs that sloshed over with liquid. "Warmed and tested for poison—or lack thereof!" He passed out the drinks.

Rapture snatched one of the larger mugs.

Liefer held his hand out in front of Rapture's cat, letting the cat sniff him. "Nice cat. Does he have a name?"

Rapture took a sip of spirits. "I haven't gotten to that yet." She handed the mug to Visor.

Liefer's uncle said, "I thought his name was 'cat'." He smiled broadly.

Athian said, "There's always Snowflake."

Kaytla joined them. "Snowflake is so blah. It should be something like ... Razer." She held up her hands, crooking her fingers like claws.

Athian waved his hand. "Oh I know, sis. I was just kidding." He took a drink and hugged Kaytla.

Liefer said, "Snow ball, snow cat, white stuff -"

Rapture said, " _Not_ 'white stuff'." Several giggled.

Visor said, "I kind of like the sound of Natalia."

Rapture gasped loudly. "Oh, you did not!"

Visor held out his hands in confusion. "What? I didn't say it was your name."

Rapture gasped loudly again. "Oh you—" She slapped at his chest a few times, mostly hitting his arms as he defended himself. Her cat growled and bared his teeth until she stopped attacking. "I don't know, I kind of like the sound of Burke!"

Visor stared off a few moments, then chuckled softly and said, "Nattie."

Rapture elbowed Visor in the stomach.

Kaytla asked, "Do you want me to smack him for you?"

Rapture said, "No, that's okay. I'll have Cat get him tonight after he goes to sleep."

Kaytla said, "I hadn't heard that name before. Well, 'Natalie' I have."

Visor said, "It's not originally sirenic. It is adopted from, gosh, I can't remember, vampiric? Anyway, it's usually given to sirens born in Xandria on a certain holiday."

Rapture said, "The Blue Moon."

Kaytla said, "I think it's pretty."

Rapture said, "Natalia—yes; Nattie—no; and Natalia-a, ug."

"What's that 'ah'?"

"I was the first one born that day."

Visor said, "The first Godiva. They get letter designation for birth order, starting separately with each strain."

"We're all Natalias—all the strains."

Visor said, "But the different-strain Natalias of the same birth order can still be uniquely identified because they get strain-specific titles."

Rapture turned around to meet his eyes. _Don't you dare!_

Athian jumped up and pointed at the cat. "I know! Blue Snow." He broke into a song of the same name.

One of the musicians began playing a flute. Some of the other musicians wandered off to get their instruments.

Athian didn't finish the song because his relatively small mug emptied before it was over. He went for a refill.

Liefer's uncle picked a thin, still-burning stick out of the fire and swung the firebrand like a conductor's baton.

The orchestra played clips to warm up. It was slightly intoxicated, but then so was the audience.

Athian returned with his lyre. " _Siren of Jortal_! _Siren of Jortal_!" Athian was too near to the conductor, and almost got a fire brand in the face. He fell down trying to duck away from it.

Kaytla covered her mouth and let out a screech.

The orchestra started _Siren of Jortal._ Athian held up both hands and cheered. He skipped around the fire once during the musical intro. He bowed deeply before Rapture, took her hand and kissed it. He helped her up.

Visor ran his hands along Rapture's body as she stood.

The low ceiling, smoothness of the cold, hard stone and the lack of room furnishings provided good acoustics for the fast tempo of _Siren of Jortal_. Rapture and Athian performed a simple dance, modified for Rapture's limp, as the intro completed.

Athian started his part of the duet. "Enduring beauty, can you remember our first ..." His voice was good, considering the spirits and fatigue. Still, the horns of the orchestra almost drowned him out.

Then it was Rap's turn. "Adoring beast, of course I remember ..." She almost drowned out the orchestra in her first stanza. Then she warmed up and ramped up the volume. Her cat pinned back its ears and backed up against a wall. One of the children covered his ears. As Rapture reached the higher pitch portion of her second stanza, her volume approached the threshold of pain. She did that when tipsy.

After Athian's second turn, Rap began again. She was so loud ... graceful ... serene. Her voice echoed off the walls and through his body.

During an instrumental break, the two singers danced a bit more. Sorana declined Athian's invitation to join, but Kaytla joined enthusiastically. The rest of the song consisted of instrumentals with the female lead's humming of melodic chords. Rapture proved the strongest instrument—more powerful than the horns and more passionate than the strings.

Athian said. " _Sinking of Twelve Angels_!"

The conductor gave the signal and the orchestra began.

Sorana hesitantly accepted Rapture's invitation to join the singers. Sorana was herself an impressive singer, quickly matching Rapture's tone and pitch. Of course she couldn't match the volume, but as she learned the words, she began improvising harmonies off of Rapture's melody.

By the end of the first movement, Rapture had passed the chorus lead to Sorana, allowing Rapture to sing a meta-chorus. Rapture slowly worked her way through a single line of a chorus as Sorana sang the entire stanza.

Visor said, "Magic Lute—queen's devotion aura!"

Rapture said, "What? Now? Here?"

"Yeah, if you could. You know it's my favorite!"

Rapture regarded him oddly. Of course she knew it wasn't his favorite. It did, however, have the most technically complex vocals of any commonly known song. Rapture shrugged. "Whatever." She whirled her finger in the air and the orchestra started.

Athian and Sorana sang the intro.

Rapture then began wailing the sirenic rifts, so-called due to notes of different octaves in quick succession.

After the first run-through was complete, Sorana sang with Rapture.

Visor moved near Sorana to hear her. She was good—exceptionally good. Standing behind her, he pretended to slow-dance with her, placing hand on her diaphragm to feel her muscles tense as she sang. The song broke into more complex triplet rifts that included major volume and pitch changes within triplets.

Only sirens could hit the notes, so Sorana did not. But she did blend through the triplets the way a thoroughly trained and deeply talented human singer would. Assassination and singing? That was an interesting combination of skills.

## ***************

A clanging of metal woke Visor. Sorana was removing weapons and armor after her watch.

Rapture was still passed out from the vardal spirits.

Sorana sat on her knees and took a drink of water.

He held up the blanket and she scooted up next to him, using his arm as a pillow. Her body was still cold. She lay next to him for a time. Her body warmed, but her breathing remained timid and her heartbeat erratic. She turned onto her back and folded her hands under her head. "Touch me."

# Chapter 16

Poison

"Maybe twenty of them ... vardal and ogres. I can't tell. It's blurry. He doesn't see the same way we do, or something." Rapture cradled her cat's head, concentrating.

Liefer said, "The storm is letting up. They're back on the search."

Visor said, "I'm sorry. We brought these ogres upon you.

Liefer said, "Maybe. It could be Talon's Gauntlet. We couldn't stay here forever, either way." He looked at Rapture. "I'm just glad you showed up when you did."

Visor said, "We have to go. Even Sorana's not going to kill a vardal platoon—organized soldiers with plate armor, melodic weapons, and possibly cavalry."

Liefer said, "With the snow melting, the ogre bodies will soon be exposed. The smoke from our fires will be seen for miles."

Visor said, "We head south. We go to Alafos first and drop the children there. The orchestra can do as they wish. We need to warn Xandria—at least Krafer's Garrison. I still need to return Sorana home. Rap, can you really understand that cat?"

"You mean _Burke_?" She smiled. "I don't know how it works. When I touch him, it's like we share pictures."

Liefer said, "I thought all sirens could talk to animals."

Rapture said, "No, just the druids. And they can only sense the feelings of animals, and kind of share feelings back. They can get the animals to do things, but they don't see images. At least I've never heard of it."

Visor said, "I think the druids mostly use scent. You're more like a telepath, but with animals. Can you give him instructions?"

"I think so." Rapture stroked Burke's coat. "Oh, those are called 'practical druids'—the ones that can communicate with animals. There are also 'council druids' that are the Xandrian council members. They don't do anything—I mean, with animals. They are just leaders."

Visor said, "This is going to be helpful."

Liefer said, "Cat recon."

## ***************

Thorsius held his hands up to the fire. "Two days down, two weeks to go."

Rapture said, "When we get to Raykez, maybe we could stop by and see Revan!"

Thorsius asked, "Who's Revan?"

Visor said, "That's Rap's sister Evan and her friend, Ranie."

Rapture gasped loudly. "She is not! That's Don's sister." She scowled at Visor. "And you shouldn't talk that way! If she heard you say that, it would hurt her feelings."

"I guess you're right. She's so sensitive. You know, like when she called you my 'fountain pen holder' in front of my mom!" Visor threw a stick onto the fire. The musicians built up the camp around the Fist of Mercy.

Rapture said, "She's sweet though."

Visor said, "Sweet? Do you mean like when they danced naked at my brother's coronation!"

"It wasn't naked."

"Well, it wasn't dressed. A thin layer of lace? You could see everything."

"And Evan really has nice thighs!"

Visor pressed his hands over his face. "Oh, my eyes! Cut them out!"

Rapture snickered. "She must do a lot of field work to keep fit like that."

Visor covered his ears. "Lalalalalala ...!"

Thorsius said, "It sounds like Ranie's a bad influence."

Visor said, "Oh, no, Evan's the bad influence. Actually, it's more of a Folie a deux. They're both the bad influence."

Rapture said, "At least they have priorities. I'm sure if Ranie ever got captured by some vardal maniacs, Evan would make rescue her first priority."

Visor said, "Oh, here we go with the whole tower witch thing again."

Thorsius chuckled. "Well, court boys take a bit longer to work up to it." He pretended to nudge Visor's shoulder.

Sorana stopped sharpening her dagger. "Fear is only in your mind."

Thorsius said, "The end of a lance isn't in your mind, but'll kill ya just the same."

"And you know this?" Sorana stood up and walked closer to Visor and Rap. There was a sparkle in her eyes—a hint of copper in her iris. "You mean that a silly girl like me doesn't understand fear. We simply create phantom agonies that involve romantic fairy tales. Do you mean fears like this?" She knelt before Visor and clutched her fists over her heart. "Oh my dear Visor! Since you touched—"

Everything became distorted. He reflexively looked to Rapture.

Rapture put her hand to her head. She looked confused. "What's happening?"

Visor could have sworn she'd said that same thing in that exact manner before. That was weird. When was that? "I don't know." Things became clear again.

Sorana was over by Thorsius now.

Thorsius stood up and growled. He stood more than a foot taller and carried more than twice her weight. He slammed a leg of meat to the ground. "Enough!"

Visor jumped up. "Velsignet! Stand down!"

Thorsius turned and stomped off, muttering. "Sick bitch."

Sorana looked through Visor and Rapture, seeming not to recognize them. She wore a perverse smirk. Then her eyes fell to the ground as she wandered back to her earlier position. She resumed the sharpening of her dagger as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

Members of the orchestra stared in slack-jaw fascination.

Visor looked to Rapture and held out his hands. What do I do?

Rapture waved him off and pointed at Thorsius.

Visor went to talk to his friend.

# Chapter 17

Abduction

Rapture asked, "Do you hate Thor?"

Sorana rubbed her temples. "I don't know. I'm sorry."

Rapture said, "Sweetie, what you just did was very rude. Thor is not well spoken like Don, but he is a kind man. You should not speak to him that way."

Sorana began to weep quietly.

People were watching.

Rapture slipped her arm under Sorana's. "Let's go for a walk." They walked away from camp. "Why are you crying?"

Sorana said, "I don't know. I was just afraid."

Rapture asked, "What are you afraid of?"

"You."

"Me? Why would you ever be afraid of me?"

Sorana looked at the ground.

"Just tell me. It's fine."

Sorana said, "I thought you might be jealous."

"Jealous?"

"Well, you know. With Visor, you know."

Rapture laughed, but stopped when she realized Sorana wasn't laughing. "You do realize I'm a siren, right?"

Sorana nodded meekly. "M-hmm." After a couple of steps, she said, "I don't know what that means."

"For one thing, it means I will never hurt you. Also, it means that I will never be jealous. We're not supposed to be, anyway. He is not my man. I will never marry Don, nor any other man." Rapture looked at the stars, silver ice crystals hanging cold and beautiful in the black night. "I will follow my body from man to man, until my youth is expired and no man wants me. Then I will return to Xandria and help to raise the young. It is my life."

"Do you love him?"

"I think I do, but I don't. I follow my body, and so does he. We feel as if we are in love, but we also know that when my body decides it, our time will end. Marry him if you wish. It means nothing to me."

"Marry him?"

"If you want, though it would be unusual to marry a man currently bound with a siren. Humans usually wait until after the binding is finished to marry. You can go ahead, but realize that I will not leave him, and he won't leave me until my body decides it is time."

"How do you know when it is time?"

"I don't know, really. I've never had a binding expire. I was assigned to WaterCrescent to bind to Lord Mourning, but Don got me first."

"How long have you been bound to Visor?"

"Seven years. That's a long time. Usually the bindings last two or three years, though four is not unheard of. And I can feel that it is slipping recently. Oh, we are surely the best of friends. And we think that we will always remain friends for the rest of our lives. But usually, when the binding ends, so does the friendship—always, actually." Rapture shrugged. "There is no fairy tale love for sirens. Don says the whole thing is a waste of physiology. Our bodies spend so much energy binding to a man, but we do not reproduce with men. Our sisters in Xandria and Twelve Angels bud clones of themselves. It is the balance of our race that some of us live among humans. We bind to them ... heal them. They protect us."

"I still don't understand. If you love him, what do you think of me?"

"What do I think of you?"

They stopped. "Well sometimes when Visor and I ... you, you know."

Rapture said, "Visor cares for you and finds you pretty. He cares for you. My body reads his desires."

"So you control him? Or he controls you?"

"A binding isn't really like that. You're thinking of the compelling—that's the thing where we actually make a man love us and do whatever we want."

"Why not do that all the time?"

"Well, I guess that wouldn't be any fun." Rapture huffed. "It takes concentration, for one. You'd get tired. And it usually wears off if you're not close enough for a while. Also, it can be dangerous."

"Why?"

"When you do that, the man loses control. Like if you compel him to try to get him to do something, and another man talks to you, he might kill him."

"Because he's jealous."

"Yeah."

"So compelling isn't love."

"I guess it's whatever you want to call it. Some people say it is. You can feel guilty afterwards, though."

Sorana knelt in the snow. "Have you ever ... I don't know how to ask this."

Rapture said, "Just ask. I will not hurt you."

"Have you ever compelled Don?"

Rapture sat in front of Sorana. "Sweetie, do you know what it means to keep something a secret?"

"I don't know any secrets."

"It means that if I tell you the answer to that, you must never repeat it—at least not to other people. You can talk about it with me, but you have to be sure no one else is around. There are times it might be appropriate to mention it to Don, but that can be tricky."

Sorana said, "I understand."

Rapture took Sorana's hands in her own and rested them on her knees. "Years ago—maybe a year after we first met—he asked me to compel him. He wanted to see what it was like. So I did." Rapture took a deep breath. "It was the first time—the only time—I forced my want and will for that purpose. When it was done, he cried."

"Why?"

Rapture looked into Sorana's amber eyes. "He wasn't sad, yet wasn't happy either. He described it as being inside of paradise and then losing it. It was a place that made you forget all pains of the world. It is to know, for once in life, that all you are living for is right there with you. I guess it was longing that made him cry."

Sorana said, "It sounds like he loves you."

"He thinks he does. I guess only time will tell for sure." Rapture struggled to stand and lost her balance.

Sorana hopped up and caught her.

"Thanks."

Sorana smiled.

They walked together to a nearby stream. The bank was steep, so Rapture held onto Sorana's arm as they approached the edge. As one, they knelt by the stream. Rapture put her hand into the water to stroke some smooth rocks just below the surface. "Xandria is surrounded by water on three sides." She went on to describe some of the major city attractions. She used the inside of her robe to clean Sorana's face with stream water.

There was shouting at the camp. The girls hurried back. When they got closer, Athian ran towards them shouting. "Horseman! Visor and Thor were taken."

## ***************

"Talon's a bounty hunter." Liefer shook his head. "He will have expert trackers. They will move faster than us. We can't run."

Athian shrugged. "And we can't fight. Most don't have the training, and with the children—maybe if we don't resist, they won't harm us."

Liefer said, "He's looking for us—the orchestra. We should split up."

"We are splitting for sure." Kaytla pointed at Sorana. "I'm not going anywhere with that woman."

Athian said, "Oh, Kay, she's didn't mean for this to happen."

Several people were talking at once. Kaytla was the loudest, yelling at her brother. "Visor isn't here. You don't owe her anything. She's poison. She shouldn't even be here."

"She shouldn't even be, for that matter." The oboist spoke during a lull in the commotion. Everyone looked at her. She looked down. "Awkward moment."

Multiple conversations restarted.

Liefer's uncle raised his fists. "Quiet—all of you! We will do as the siren wishes."

Sorana said, "Fine." She turned and began gathering her things.

Rapture called after her. "Sweetie. Sorana!"

From behind, Liefer asked, "Engel Godiva, what would you have us do?"

Rapture turned and saw Liefer through blurry eyes. She could feel her lip quivering. "You know, you people ... just ..."

Athian stepped up and knelt before her. "Your Grace, I am with you. What do you want?"

Rapture looked around at the selfish humans. They awaited her words. She spoke to Athian. "Go with your sister. See her to Alafos. The children—all of you—get to safety." Rapture considered her words. "Sorana will see me to Xandria."

Several of them objected.

She ignored them.

# Chapter 18

Talon

"How do you think Rap's holding up?" Athian took a sip of soup. That pulled Visor's arm via the shackles and chain between them.

Visor groaned. "Better than me. Thanks for your concern."

"It's just that's it's been a week."

"She's gone longer. Our binding is different that way. So, you managed to evade them for all of, what, six hours?"

Athian helped Visor swallow some soup. "After they caught you? Yeah, something like that. We were just too slow. Maybe it was good that Liefer tried to lead them off on the false trail. I hope he escaped. Is your side not getting any better?

"I think I've got broken ribs. Dang ogre."

"It did look like an accident." Athian said, "At least Talon let his siren heal you."

"Just enough to keep me alive. He's a real diplomat."

"He kind of is, getting this motley crew to work together."

Visor said, "Money can get them to work together."

"When was the last time you saw Thor?"

"He was alive during the morning break yesterday, but I haven't seen him since." Visor sat up and winced.

"They keep us isolated."

"They split us up right away. Four sets of prisoners per guard. Prisoners chained by twos." Visor motioned into the night. "Regular patrols with scheduled check-in; a scheduled relief for the guards."

"He's got a military background."

"Or he's just smart. Oh, well. If Liefer and the girls make it to Xandria—well, that's something."

"They'll be faster than Talon's Gauntlet."

"Just the time we took ferrying the wagons across Keening Lake would give them a sufficient lead."

Their guard stood up and looked intently toward the edge of camp. A perimeter fire went out. That was the second one. The guard yelled out to a nearby infantry and headed over to check the fire. The guard stopped in his tracks and turned around. An arrow was protruding from his chest. His body twisted, and he fell forward, revealing another arrow sticking out of his back.

Another infantry man yelled a warning and waited for help before jogging to the extinguished perimeter fire.

Visor withdrew a lock picking set. Their fellow prisoners included another human and an ogre. Visor picked the ogre's lock. "I will free you if you help us."

The ogre's lock fell open. After a brief moment of surprise, the ogre jumped up and made a break for freedom. It was what Visor had expected. It wasn't the help he'd hoped for, but the stupid creature made a good distraction.

The ogre's partner ran after him.

A cavalry came in from patrol and ran down the fleeing human prisoner. He then turned to check on Visor and Athian.

Visor knelt and put up his hands.

Athian followed suit.

The cavalry moved on to some other commotion.

"Come on!" Visor led Athian behind a tent. The two knelt down and Visor began working on their lock.

The light from the camp's central cooking fire lessened suddenly. Visor heard Talon's voice in the distance.

There was a strobe light across the camp. That would be the pixie.

Visor finished one of the locks.

Athian said, "Whoa, hold on."

Visor looked up to find one of Talon's vardal flanked by two human infantry.

Visor held up his hands. "Hey, we just wanted to be mobile in case in the confusion—"

The vardal stepped forward and stuck a thin blade into Athian's gut.

Visor said, "Whoa! Jeez!"

There was a flash of movement between the human guards, accompanied by the sound of hardened steel slicing through softer metal and bone. The humans fell.

The vardal turned.

Sorana leapt at him, and slicing off his blade-wielding hand with her dagger and crushing his cheek with the bulb end of her rod.

The vardal fell heavily.

Sorana leaned close and hissed in Visor's ear. "Walk. And do not speak."

Visor grabbed the vardal's sword and helped Athian up. The two struggled forward together. Athian was bleeding and getting weaker.

Sorana prowled in front of them. There was a sudden flash of pain in Visor's thigh. He stumbled and looked down. An arrow protruded from his leg.

Talon's alfanar was maybe a hundred feet away. A second arrow whizzed by.

Visor struggled forward, heavily favoring one leg and still supporting Athian. An arrow sunk into Sorana's hip. She pulled it out with a grunt and continued.

Talon's alfanar stepped forward in between shots, keeping within range with the struggling men.

Liefer stepped into view ahead and fired at the alfanar.

As the two archers exchanged fire, the Fist of Mercy slipped past Liefer to find a waiting horse. Sorana helped the men onto the horse.

There was a rumbling. Visor looked past the alfanar to a charging war mastodon. The beast was nine feet the shoulder and covered with long fur. A pair of five-foot, sharpened tusks formed lances capable of piercing an ogre's full plate armor. The tusks were fitted with reinforcement rings, which were themselves riddled with metal spikes. The mastodon wore partial plate barding.

Talon rode upon the Mastodon.

A two-foot tall pixie stood on Talon's saddle, lighting his path.

An ogre with a huge sword double-timed beside the mastodon. His fine, full plate armor could only have been forged and welded by vardal.

Unshaken, Liefer sunk an arrow into the alfanar's chest.

Talon ran down Liefer.

Sorana smacked the horse's rump. "Yeah!"

The horse took off. Visor looked back over his shoulder.

The pixie shined a spotlight on Sorana, making her a sitting duck.

The armored ogre and mastodon flanked and closed on Sorana.

A snow leopard leapt off the back of the mastodon. It caught the pixie with its claws and the two creatures crashed to the ground together. The cat recovered and ran off, carrying the still-glowing pixie in its mouth. Talon turned his mastodon to pursue the cat.

Sorana was now virtually invisible compared to the ogre, having removed the decorative plating from her armor. The ogre's plate armor, on the other hand, was reflective enough to neatly outline his form.

The ogre groaned and howled as Sorana cut him down.

# Chapter 19

Pixie

"Oh, Rap I just love you!" Athian rubbed his belly. "Thank you, Your Grace. It's good as new."

Rapture smiled. "No thanks are necessary. It is what I do."

Visor said, "But thank you, anyway."

Athian said, "Oh, poor Kaytla—and the kids. I hope they didn't get caught up in the violence."

Visor said, "If they just cowered, they should have been fine. Talon wants his bounty. He won't kill those who aren't a threat. I'm sure Thorsius wouldn't just stay out of it, though."

Sorana chewed a nut. "Thorsius was cut down." There was an awkward silence. She looked at the others, all of whom were looking at her. "What?"

Visor said, "It's just that Thorsius was a friend. It's shocking news."

Athian asked, "How?"

Sorana said, "His leg may be severed. It was hard to tell from my vantage. He needed healing or he would have bled out."

"There's no point in going back for him, then." Visor sighed. "It is done now, one way or the other. We have to move forward. Xandria's got to be warned."

Athian said, "We're at least as close to Raykez. We could get the Symphonic Knights to protect Xandria."

"We don't know they would. Raykez politics can be complicated."

"But the sirens are in danger."

"It is our word that the sirens are in danger—our guess."

"And what about Talon?"

"That's why we can't go. If we get involved with Talon, politically or otherwise, who knows what will happen. Even in the best case, where we're in and out, the trip adds days. We need to make sure Xandria is warned. Look, you don't have to come with us. Go get your sister."

"No, you're right. She'll probably be fine. If I can help you, that's what I need to do."

"You'd be useful, I'm pretty sure. And then we'll take care of Talon together." Visor pointed at the small, winged creature Burke had pinned on the frosty ground. "The first question is what we do about him."

The pixie said, "Let him go."

Visor said, "He would be hard to watch, being able to fly away the instant we're not restraining him."

"Easy enough". Sorana pulled the pixie away from Burke's claws and pinned him on his belly. She gripped one of his wings roughly and positioned her shoulder for a hard pull.

Athian gasped.

Rapture said, "No! Sorana!"

"Hey!" Visor hopped up and grabbed Sorana's arm. He forced a laugh. "She's just kidding!" He knelt close to the pixie's head. "But not really."

Athian said, "We do need to move. Talon might hunt us down." He looked at the pixie, "I guess we decide now. Do we let him go back to Talon or let the cat eat him?"

Sorana said, "Cat."

Visor said, "I have another idea." Minutes later, Visor tightened a final strap. "How's that?"

Athian faked a wheeze. "Fine!"

Visor laughed. "I was talking to our little friend."

The pixie said, "It's a bit constricting." He wiggled but couldn't shift out of the straps that bound him to Athian's back pack. "Hey Godiva, are you sure this is allowed?"

"Well, you are a threat if we release you. We'd have to cut off your wings, and that would leave you helpless." Rapture tilted her head. "So we can only keep you restrained or kill you."

The pixie flailed his tiny hands. "No, arg!"

Rapture smiled and set her mount to a backward walk in the direction of Xandria. She neatly turned the horse to a side-step as the pedestrians passed, then a slow forward walk.

Visor asked, "Rap, are you communing with that horse or is he just that well trained?"

Rap shrugged. "Maybe I'm just that good."

Visor said, "I know you're an expert rider, but not that experienced with horses."

"Hmmm." Rap raised an eyebrow slyly. "Yes, I am able to commune with him a little. Not anything like with Burke. With Burke, it's images. With this horse, it's only a feeling, and only when we're close."

"So like a normal druid connection. Whatever you did to Burke was special."

"The more time that passes, the more we interact, the more I can connect with him. And at a distance, too."

Visor reached up and patted the horse. "Either way, this is will make things nicer—having a mount stocked with a little camping gear." He nodded at the pixie. "And a light bulb is helpful as well."

"Or he could be a bargaining chip." Athian stopped. "We could trade him."

Visor stopped as well. "What do you mean?"

"Maybe Talon would want his pixie in exchange for the siren."

Visor said, "Perhaps. But how would we approach Talon in a position to bargain? We don't have a fast escape or a reliable way to communicate from a range. We'd likely just end up getting captured."

Sorana said, "I'd rather have a pixie."

Athian asked, "Why do you like the pixie?"

"I don't like him." Sorana flicked the pixie in the head. "He can camouflage us—provide light for you."

Athian said, "Well, you might have a different perspective than some since you heal on your own. A pixie rainbow won't heal a twisted ankle or snake bite."

Visor said, "It would be nice to have another healer. We don't even know if the pixie would help us."

Rapture said, "We don't know for sure that she will."

Athian said, "Actually though, the risk could be all mine."

Visor asked, "How is that?"

"You promised to return Sorana to Mercy. That just leaves me to take the risk in dealing with Talon. I'll go, stash Pixie somewhere, deal with Talon, and make sure the siren is safe before I tell him where Pixie is."

Sorana said, "That won't work."

Visor said, "Actually the horse could carry Sorana with Rap. The two of them could get to Xandria faster, and the protection I add in addition to Sorana is negligible. I could wait for you, and if this does work, help you get her to Xandria."

Sorana said, "We already have a siren."

"That's true. But see, they are human, and they do this for sirens— _any_ siren." Rapture looked at Visor. "Especially if it's a Marigold—the 'beautiful ones'."

Visor said, "That's not what I said. I just said they have the classic facial structure that some artists consider beautiful."

"Is she a Marigold?"

"I guess she is. Look, Rap, it's just that you are relatively safe and we have a chance to free one of your sisters. We're just discussing it, anyway."

Rapture pushed her tongue against the inside of her cheek. "You know, you just go do what you need to do. And if you survive, and make it to Xandria, and I happen to still be there, maybe we can chat sometime." She trotted off.

Burke jogged after her.

Visor looked around. "What was that?"

Athian said, "Hey Visor, you know you're supposed to run after her, right?"

"There's no way I could catch her."

Athian slapped Visor's shoulder. "Just go."

Visor did.

After a bit, Rapture slowed the horse to a walk, and then to a meandering half-walk. He caught up with her. "Rap! We won't go." He caught his breath. "What's wrong?" He put a hand on her leg.

She let the horse walk her away from his touch.

Visor called after her. "Rap?"

She turned around and looked at him. "I'm sorry. I know I haven't been myself lately." She rode back to him and proffered her leg. "Oh Don, it feels like things are changing."

"Changing?" Visor stroked her calf and thigh. "Do you mean Xandria, the Fist of Mercy ... us?"

Her expression became sad. "I don't know—me, I think. Don, do you know what happened when we were apart? When it was just me and Sorana?" She clenched her jaw and fought off tears. "We talked about what to do—well, I did. I told her we should go to Xandria, like you said. And that she could stay there with me, or if she wanted, I would go with her to the Tower of Mercy. Do you know what she said?"

"Apparently, she did not agree."

"She didn't argue. She just kept saying 'go ahead'. She never batted an eye—never gave it a second thought. No matter what, she was coming for you."

"Well, that's how Mercy trained her—to follow the mission. Her understanding of the mission was for the three of us to return to the Tower. And she's right."

Rapture still looked upset.

Visor said, "Even if she did it to rescue me because she thinks she feels something for me, it doesn't matter. We are bound."

Rapture shook her head. "It's not that." Rapture put a hand on her forehead. "Sorana doesn't matter. She's a friend. The point is, for the first day Sorana and I were traveling, I argued to leave you behind. What sense does that make, Don? I—my body needs you more than anything else in the world, and I wanted to leave you behind. Someone you just met wouldn't."

"She's a trained soldier. She's a tactical master and an assassin. She knew she wouldn't die."

"No, she didn't. She was telling me things to pass on to her mother. How she felt—that she'd felt some measure of fulfillment with the Fist of Mercy. I knew she was making plans in her head to free you and escape, but really she was expecting—in a strange way maybe hoping—to die."

"How did Liefer end up with you?"

Rapture sighed in annoyance. "He tracked us down a couple of days later. He'd escaped when the rest of the orchestra was captured. But he wanted to get you, too."

"He and Sorana outvoted you?"

"Not really. They just talked about how to rescue you."

Visor asked, "So the decision was already made before he got there. Maybe he just assumed it was your choice as well. Don't you think he would have done what you wanted, or what he thought was safest for you?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"The point is: it's not like it was everyone in a large sample of people felt one way and you were the only one that wanted to leave me behind."

"But Liefer died saving you, and Sorana was willing to. And you would die to save me, or _any_ siren. I was going to leave you. What does that make me?"

"It makes you you. You are a healer, a duchess, and a singer." He kissed her hip. "You are not a warrior. No one wants or expects you to be."

"Don." Rapture took a deep breath. "What happens to us when our time has passed—when our binding is done? What happens to me?"

"Don't you just go back to Xandria?" Sorana and Athian were passing by, skirting around to stay out of conversation range. "Maybe we should join back up."

Rapture nodded. "Yes, I'm sorry."

Visor said, "Don't be. You are right. When we get to Xandria, or to the Tower of Mercy, it is something we should talk about."

# Chapter 20

Survival

Sorana gently pressed the rabbit's abdomen to express the urine on the frosty ground. She slit its fur on the belly near its lower legs. She pulled the skin up, making further cuts as needed to expose the muscle of its belly. She sliced its belly and let the entrails spill out, catching a select organ. After inspecting it, she popped it in her mouth. She chopped off the tail, feet and lower legs. She wiped fur off the blade then turned the rabbit on belly and made a cut in the fur on its back. Gripping each section of fur, she pulled up and down. She worked the lower section of fur over the back leg stumps and pulled it off. She worked the top section over the front legs to the head. She cut off the head and added it to the pile of organs. She broke the pelvis bone in a V-shape, allowing her to remove the remaining entrails. She put the remaining carcass in a pan of water and wiped the remaining blood and innards off the meat. She then impaled the carcass on a stick and gave it to Athian.

She removed some birch bark and moss from her pouches and placed it under the dry kindling that was already stacked in place. She must have picked up the moss while out hunting with Burke. That was certainly shrewd on her part. That way, they didn't have to cut anyone's hair.

So the vocalist, assassin and master of languages was also an expert huntress and survivalist. That was an impressive skill set for a female some five years younger than Visor. Of course, she did have Mercy's tutelage and few distractions. She didn't spend time developing political skills.

Sorana blocked the wind with her body and hands. "Cespenar."

The pixie was still tied to Athian's backpack, near the fire but turned the wrong way. Visor turned his backpack so that Cespenar faced the fire and untied him except for a knot around his feet.

"We don't just shoot light beams around. This isn't as easy as you think." Cespenar looked around.

Visor broke off a piece of chocolate and held it just out of Cespenar's reach.

"Fine. I have to be closer, though."

Visor moved Cespenar next to the moss.

Cespenar took off his cloak and vest so that his chest was exposed. It illuminated—various colors at first, then all violet. His arms and eyes glowed as well. He spread his wings, exposing a moist, scaly membrane under them. The membrane also emanated violet light. He focused a beam of light on the moss until it lit up. He quickly redressed.

Visor put Cespenar in the backpack for additional wind protection.

Athian rotated the rabbit carcass over the flame so that it cooked evenly. "Thanks for dinner."

"Burke caught the rabbit." Sorana began preparing a porcupine carcass.

"Then thanks for the porcupine."

Visor said, "I like this pixie."

Athian nodded. "Can we keep him?

Visor said, "He's certainly useful. Let's get to Xandria and decide what to do with him. What is it, two more days?"

"Something like that," said Athian. "It's been a while, and this isn't the way I usually go."

Visor went to Rapture, a good twenty paces from the camp.

She was a living legend of beauty, kneeling in the frosty ground, concentrating with her eyes closed. Particles of snow, blown from the mountain drift above, highlighted the curls in her hair. Her breath hung as white clouds in the cool evening air. "I can see what he's seeing, sort of."

Had she not spoken, he might have stared until he froze to death, so captivating was her visage. Visor looked around. Burke wasn't in sight. "That's amazing. The telepathy is getting stronger."

"It's wonderful. I feel like I can move so free ... so fast. I can jump and chase rabbits and squirrels. I can climb trees."

"That's so great." He stroked her hair. "We have some food ready."

The Fist of Mercy ate and settled in for the night. They piled together to keep warm, forgoing a larger fire that might be detected by vardal-ogre patrols. They positioned the horse to partially block the chilling breeze. It was a thick-coated horse and would be fine exposed to the elements.

Rapture said, "It's like camping out as children."

Cespenar asked, "You were bound to a lyre as a child?"

Rapture said, "But no ghost stories tonight, please. I'm tired. Wake me up when it's my watch."

Visor observed Sorana's face for much of his watch. She almost looked peaceful, in the midst of a struggle to survive and evade capture. He passed watch to Rapture and fell asleep.

"Did anyone else hear that?" Athian's voice woke Visor up.

Visor stretched. "Hear what?"

Athian stepped up onto a rock and stared into the distance. "A scream ... a crash of stone."

"No, but my hearing isn't as good as most people's." There was a ring of metal. "I heard that."

The girls woke up.

Visor said, "It's about time to get packed up anyway. Pixie, light!"

Cespenar generated a soft glow. "You're going to have to feed me better."

Visor said, "We will. I wasn't sure what pixies ate."

"Insects and small beetles?" Athian laughed.

Rapture smiled. "Worms?"

Visor checked the saddle straps. "I think they only like earth worms though. They're picky eaters, which is why they're so small."

After half a day's travel, Sorana returned from point to report she'd heard signs of another melee.

Athian said, "I don't hear anything."

Visor strained to listen. "Me neither. How far?"

Sorana pointed southwest. "Three—perhaps five miles. A hit and run skirmish."

Athian asked, "Do we check it out or stay on course for Xandria?"

Visor said, "Xandria. We have to get there and warn them. We don't want to get ourselves killed in a meaningless skirmish."

Athian said, "Cespenar could camouflage us while we check it out."

Cespenar said, "No, Cespenar can't. It doesn't work on other people."

Athian said, "But your invisible villages—were those all just songs and stories?"

"No, we can hide buildings because they don't move. And it's a different thing then when we camouflage ourselves."

Athian asked, "What if we just stand still? We could get ahead of them and let them pass us by. I guess that could be hard to do safely, though."

"It doesn't work. You have to be real still, like a rock."

"'Really', or 'very'?" Visor said, "But pixies can make illusions, right? Why not make an illusion of a rock over us?"

"Not in thin air. I can in a fog, or in certain kinds of dusts. It's probably not as realistic as you think, though."

Athian said, "Sorana could check it out by herself easier without us, and probably get away if needed."

Visor said, "No, on foot and alone, you never know. They could have her too outnumbered. And then Rap's unprotected, too."

Rapture said, "What about Burke?"

Athian said, "He is faster."

Visor said, "Yeah, Burke would be good. He could at least go check it out. Then if your range telepathy is working, we could make plans from a safe distance."

Rapture said, "I think it's working well enough for that."

Visor said, "Since he can't talk to them, we'd still have to find a way to safely contact them. But at least we'd know what's coming"

Cespenar said, "I could go check it out."

Visor asked, "Really?"

Athian asked, "You trust him?"

"Not really, but he's earned his keep. We're close enough to Xandria to get there before Talon catches us, even if he does warn Talon." Visor turned to Cespenar. "You know what? You're free now." He untied Cespenar. "We need to know now what you're going to do. It doesn't help us to send you with Burke if we can't trust you. You're free to go."

Cespenar said, "I'd do this for you."

"Why?"

"You're nicer than Talon. Your siren is nicer than his. She went banshee, you know. She's not a prisoner—anymore, anyway."

Athian asked, "Went banshee?"

Rapture said, "It usually means she's attacked someone sonically. It's not something we want to be called."

Cespenar said, "She did. Have you ever heard a banshee wail?"

Visor said, "I've been screamed at by sirens on occasion. What kind of pay are you looking for?"

Cespenar said, "Just letting me go."

"That would be fine with me—your freedom for scouting services. But I still don't know that I can wait on you. How long would we wait if you don't come right back?" He stepped back, giving Cespenar the opportunity to fly away. "Would you be willing to wait for the cat? Could you fly slowly enough so that he can see you? That way we can confirm that you have or haven't made contact—even come get you if you get hurt, possibly."

"If you're going to send the cat, I might as well save my energy and ride. Flying isn't as easy as you think. I'm not a bird. Err, Godiva, do you have control of him?"

Rapture said, "I think I can get him to follow the sound and show me what's there."

Visor untied Cespenar. "I think Cespenar's wondering if he would be safe."

"Would he eat me?"

"Oh." Rapture laughed. "Sorry. Yeah, he won't eat you."

Visor said, "We're going to continue toward Xandria. Then depending on what you find, that might change."

"Gotcha." Cespenar saluted and mounted Burke. His little body bounced up and down with the snow leopard's bounding stride. "Wohooo!"

# Chapter 21

Naiad Rangers

Rapture shut her eyes and scrunched up her face. She looked so cute. "All I see are vardal. They're moving toward us. They're mounted—well, a couple of them. They have wolves. The images are weird ... distorted." Rapture's hair flowed in the cold breeze off Keening Lake, wafting her scent.

Visor breathed in deeply. "It's your siren brain interpreting cat vision. It's going to be weird. Anyway, maybe they're trackers. Are they after us?"

"I don't think so. They are chasing someone, though. They have a captive—a woman. They have her mounted, and covered with a cloak. She's small." She tensed up. "Blond hair—golden blond, or at least that's the way he sees it. He thinks my hair is gray."

"He has a different range of color vision. Blond probably is blond, though."

"She wears insignia. Oh, no!"

"What is it?"

"She's a Xandrian. They're hunting the Naiad Rangers."

Athian asked, "The military sirens?"

"Yeah." Visor touched Rapture's hair. "Rap, do you know where they are?"

"They're heading west, toward Keening Lake. Trees are to the left. It may be a forest. I don't know. I can't see very well."

Visor said, "Once they get to the Lake, they have an escape. How far ahead are the Naiads?"

"I don't know. Cespenar said a few minutes ago he was going ahead to find them, so at least that far."

"You mean flying?"

"Yes."

"And the horses are staying with the infantry? Do you know if they have any scouts?"

"It seems like they're all together."

Athian asked, "Should we go meet the Naiads half way? Or we could send Sorana on the horse to slow the vardal down."

Visor said, "No, that would leave Rap immobile. We'll wait where our paths would cross. Let's find a defensible position and assume that the Naiads can get to us unless we find out otherwise. I think Cespenar will let us know."

## ***************

Burke plodded around a bend at the base of a sandy slope, carrying Cespenar on his back. A troop of women soon followed, armed with bows, spears, leather armor and an aura of grace. In total, there were three Godivas, two Xandrians, a minor strain, and four Marigolds.

Cespenar waved the sirens onward as they climbed up the slope to Visor's location. They moved cautiously until Rapture revealed herself.

Visor asked, "Who is your officer?"

A Xandrian said, "Captured. We split up, somewhere south of Skarholt, so that some of us might escape."

Rapture and the other Xandrian stepped close and smelled each other's hair. Rapture asked, "Crysalus? Is this all of the Naiads?"

Crysalus nodded. "We started with more. Oh Natalia, they killed Sylvanis—an ogre did. We've been on the run ever since. So many have been captured."

Visor asked, "How far are they behind you? Any ogres?"

Two Godivas looked at each other. One said, "Minutes?"

The other said, "No ogres."

Cespenar said, "Maybe a mile, or two."

"Pixie, you're with Sorana. Keep her camouflaged as well as you can until she attacks." Visor turned to the sirens. "Naiads, take position and prepare for incoming."

The sirens stared at him.

"All right, this will be a feint and skirmish strategy. We break into three groups in dispersed, defensible positions—here, and over here, and on that side." Visor gestured to some rock formations. "You shoot as other the other positions are attacked. If you are attacked, you run. We have an advantage in extended skirmish with all the healers. We can afford friendly fire, so keep shooting even as the enemies close on the other groups."

The Naiads looked at each other uneasily.

Visor said, "The main thing is to stay controlled and keep your head. Your job is distraction. You want them to chase you. Sorana is positioned below and will do most of the killing." Visor signaled Sorana.

She waved back at the group.

"She wears modified vardal armor, but she's easily distinguishable by her cloak and weaponry. Okay ... who's your best hand-to-hand fighter?"

A couple of Godivas pointed at a Marigold.

She stepped forward. "Tillie, short for Matilda."

Visor assigned groups. "You two, and you—you are with Athian. You are with Rap and me. The rest of you are with Tillie. Each group has one melee fighter. The rest make sure you are further from the vardal than your melee."

A Xandrian handed Athian a rapier. Athian held the sword awkwardly and looked at it sideways. "Visor, do you realize I don't actually know how to use this."

"I know, but it doesn't matter. They shouldn't even make it up the slope. We have archers, and they have to climb a sandy slope, pinned in from both sides. The point is, if they come after you, just run. Try to lead them past Sorana."

The Fist of Mercy and Naiads took positions.

A squad of Vardal rounded the bend. A male and a female vardal infantry each held the reigns of a pair of wolves. The wolves became agitated at the site of their prey. One howled.

Two cavalry followed, one in a red cloak and the other with a banner.

A blindfolded Xandrian rode a third horse. Her hands were behind her back.

Several infantry trailed the cavalry.

The Naiad rangers took defensive positions and notched their bows.

Red Cloak surveyed the scene and shouted an order.

The infantry and the female wolf trainer charged up the slope.

The Naiad rangers fired. Some rocks and brush were worse for the volley, but no vardal were hit. The Naiads fired again, striking one vardal in the shoulder plate.

Some of the vardal equipped range weapons and returned fire. One shot Athian in the gut with a crossbow bolt and another caught a Marigold's calves with a bolas. The vardal were purposely aiming low at the sirens.

A Godiva healed Athian.

Sorana had yet to reveal herself.

The wolf trainer was near her position.

Visor took the bow from the Marigold in his group.

She only had two arrows left.

The bannerman, wielding a net and trident, started up the most gradual portion of the slope.

The infantry crested the slope.

Athian's group ran.

So did Tillie's group, prematurely.

Two infantry closed on Visor's group.

Visor shot the more lightly armored one in the chest, and he fell.

The Marigold stood beside Visor and readied her spear.

Visor's last shot his last arrow. It broke on a melodic plate of the other Vardal's armor.

The vardal knocked the Marigold's spear aside with an offhand short sword and swung his flail at Visor.

Visor ducked and jabbed with the bow.

Burke pounced on the vardal's off hand, knocking him to the ground. Burke dug in his claws and searched for vardal's neck with his gaping jaw.

Visor grabbed the vardal's flail.

Cespenar landed on Visor's shoulder. "Sorana is froze. She won't fight."

Tillie's group had been overwhelmed. Most scattered, pursued by wolves and vardal.

A vardal straddled a prone Godiva, binding her wrists.

Another vardal delivered subduing blows to a pinned, supine Xandrian.

The Naiads were so overmatched that the vardal didn't even resort to lethal force.

Being careful to avoid Burke, Visor butted the vardal in the gut with the flail's handle. He found Rapture behind them, concealed between a bush and boulder. She kneeled with her eyes closed, communicating with Burke. "Rap, I'm going for Sorana."

The Marigold stabbed the vardal in the leg.

"Just watch her!" Visor made his way down to Sorana.

Sorana cowered and protected her neck as a wolf growled and snipped at her.

Cespenar flashed a flickering red and orange light in the wolf's eyes.

The wolf recoiled from the fire image.

Visor slammed the wolf's flank with the flail.

The wolf recovered and attacked. It was too agile for Visor, and bit into Visor calf.

Burke tackled the wolf. It let go of Visor's leg.

The two animals rolled away, a tangle of fur and growls.

"Sorana!" Visor shook her. "We need you!" He smacked the side of her helmet. "Velsignet!" A wave of confusion rolled over him, followed by deja-vu. Not now!

There was a sound behind him. Red Cloak was charging, holding a trident tucked under his arm.

Visor flung Sorana out of the horse's path. He had time to dodge the trident, but the horse crashed into him. Visor was falling, or flying, unable to breathe, when everything faded to black.

# Chapter 22

Armaan

Visor opened his eyes. Everything was blurry. Only one eye worked. A Godiva and a Xandrian hovered over him. "Rap?"

The Godiva held his hand. "I'm here, Don. Drink this."

He took a sip. "What happened?" He could now see a blur with the second eye.

"We have the field, and four prisoners." That was Crysalus' voice. "We are still healing the wounded and collecting gear." Crysalus laid her hands on Visor.

Visor felt the sirenic healing flow into him. He sat up, still feeling light-headed.

The two sirens supported him. He breathed deeply as his vision cleared. He looked around.

Four vardal were lined up on their knees.

Two sirens stood behind them, weapons at the ready.

A Xandrian rode onto the battlefield, mounted on one horse and guiding another. She pulled it up beside two other horses. "That's all of them."

Visor asked. "How long was I out?"

Rapture said, "A few minutes."

Visor felt better now. He stood up. "That was weird. I had a weird dream before I woke up."

"You died," said Crysalus. "At least your heart stopped beating. You weren't breathing."

"What?" He tried to refocus on Crysalus. "Then how did you bring me back?"

"He revived you." Crysalus pointed to one of the vardal prisoners. "He's a vampire. We allowed him to bring back one of his companions in exchange for resuscitating you. The other bodies were too damaged."

Rapture said, "We also promised to let him go."

Visor made his way to the vampire. "I'm Visor Mourning. I understand you have earned your freedom."

The vardal spoke in common. "Armaan. Yes, I was promised freedom."

Visor nodded. "Be gone, then. We will retain all mounts and gear, though."

Armaan said, "I would like to negotiate. My freedom for hers." Armaan gestured toward the only female vardal prisoner.

Visor asked, "Is she royalty?"

"No."

"Fine—she's free."

The woman moved to Armaan. Their faces were close.

He spoke softly in vardal. "Get a message to the queen. Tell her what happened here this day. The SaSade Mirror has been found. I chose to stay to be in proximity to the Mirror. My dear Josephine, find your way home." He held her hands and stroked them.

She gave a faint smile.

Visor asked, "Where's Sorana."

"That's another problem." Crysalus led Visor to a rock outcropping.

Past the outcropping, Sorana cowered in a corner between two rocks and under a bush. There was a lot of blood on her. She did not seem to recognize him.

He slowly moved toward her, holding his empty hands out.

Sorana violently slapped his hand away, scooted further into the nook, gasping for breath. She looked past him—through him.

Visor smelled Rapture move up behind him. "Can you do anything for her?"

Rapture said, "Probably not. I can try."

Visor said, "No, I have another idea." He motioned for the sirens to back away. "Just stay at a distance for now. Don't make her feel cornered. I'll be back."

Visor returned to Armaan. He spoke in vardal. "Josephine, don't leave just yet!"

Armaan raised his eyebrows.

Visor said, "Josephine may want some protection. Either of your other men, but not you, can go with her."

Armaan asked, "In exchange for?"

Visor said, "Everything you know about SaSade Mirror."

After a few moments, Armaan pointed at one of the male vardal. "Him."

Crysalus walked up behind Visor. "That's the one he resuscitated."

"That's fine." Visor studied Armaan. "And you were not wounded in the melee? I didn't think vampires could be healed by sirens."

Crysalus said, "They can't be. Sorana did not attack him."

Armaan said, "As I did not attack her."

"Why not?" Visor noticed Armaan was still armed. "I'll need your weapons."

Armaan smoothly pulled aside his robe, exposing his sword. He pulled the blade out of the sheaf and handed it to Visor, handle first.

"Crysalus, should a similar situation ever come up, would you please disarm the prisoners?" Visor took the blade and studied it. It was melodic metal, very well balanced and maintained. The handle was encrusted with gems. The blade was covered with intricate etchings of scenery and faces. He recognized one of the symbols as the crest of Zanatos. "A gift? Or inherited?"

Armaan said, "That is not related to SaSade Mirror."

They could get further details out of him at a later time. "The scabbard as well. Tell me about SaSade Mirror."

Armaan unbuckled the scabbard and gave it to Visor. "Queen Europhette has offered a reward for information on and location of the SaSade mirror. That is the name Her Majesty states, and I do not know if there is a further meaning to the name. Her majesty described the Mirror as a female half-human." He shrugged toward Sorana's location. "Your Sorana is the only half-human I have ever seen."

"What does Europhette want with Sorana?"

Armaan said, "Her Majesty has not chosen to make that information public."

Visor tried to look calm. "Do you know Europhette personally?"

"I have met her on occasion. She does not make public appearances. She does not show her face."

"Why?"

"I don't know. And I don't know if it is odd behavior for the station. She has been queen since before I was born. That is all I know in relation to SaSade Mirror."

"That wasn't very helpful."

"So they will be on their way?" Armaan indicated the freed vardal.

Visor studied the vardal. They were all commoners. "I need you to order them not to pursue us, at least for a week."

Armaan spoke in vardal. "Do not pursue us. Go back to first legion camp. Join the next caravan back to Belle Font." Armaan switched back to human. "I have another guard. He is of little value to you."

Visor said, "But of some value to you." And, of course, monitoring one prisoner would be easier than monitoring two.

Armaan said, "One future question."

Visor said, "Two—and your promise not to escape, or turn on us."

"No escape as long as I am in your personal custody."

"Or in the custody of my companions."

"Agreed"

"Or sirens."

"Of course."

Visor nodded. "Done. Your guards will leave all weapons."

Armaan spoke in vardal. "Do as he says. Leave."

# Chapter 23

Fracture

Sorana snapped out of her delusion.

The Fist of Mercy traveled for the remainder of the day and made camp on the beach of Keening Lake.

Visor worked on a stallion's tail, separating and inspecting individual hairs.

Rapture asked, "Should I be jealous?"

"I'm collecting hairs to braid a fishing line. Something from the sea might be nice."

She gestured at a mare. "Her hair is longer. Why not use it? It's even got some red in it."

"True, but she pees on it."

"You do know fish pee in the lake all the time?"

"Right—lake, not sea." He snipped a hair. "It's not about the germs. When she pees on it, it leaches the hair. It'll break too easily."

"Hmm." Rapture looked toward Sorana. "Sorana seems better. She still won't talk about it. She's embarrassed, and still in a mood."

"The Naiads seem spooked by her."

"I think they're scared of her. Once you got her fighting, she went sort of, you know, medieval. It may also be the wailing."

"You mean the sonic attacks?"

She looked down. "We burst their ears."

"Of wolves. They're just animals."

"Yes, but we're not supposed to do it at all. You know ... the Fracture?"

"Guess I just see it as you're either in the fight or you're not. You do what you have to do to survive."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Those are peace time rules."

"You're probably right. It's just the rules they teach us. I'm going to sit with Sorana. The others seem to be afraid of her."

"She can rest tonight. We all can, finally. The Naiads are running the watch." Visor constructed his pole and relocated to the beach to fish.

Crysalus sat next to him. Her blond hair blew in the gentle breeze, touching his shoulder. She let out a long sigh. "We were foolish."

Visor closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath of Crysalus's scent. He was filled with sense of well-being, and his thoughts became more profound. "Sirens are not warriors. You don't have the training."

"That is polite. You saw what happened back there."

"You know, even within human armies, we differentiate between male and female troops. The difference is too great. There are things that women just tend to be less effective doing. Of course there are exceptions." He felt a nibble on the line and gave a tug.

"Were it not for your half-vardal, we would have lost everything today. You wield her as a scalpel. How do you control her?"

"Oh, I don't. She's just following an assignment to protect me, and Rap."

"Do you ... how can you sleep?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"With her near, how can you fall to sleep?"

"Oh, yeah she can be a bit intimidating. But once you get to know her, you'll see she has a sweet side."

"I ..." Crysalus was speechless.

"She's been isolated for much of her childhood. Her mannerisms are unusual, and sometimes people get the wrong impression."

She regarded him with a shocked expression.

"How did you end up out here alone?"

"With WaterCrescent fallen, there was a mood in Xandria to do something. Sylvanis believed in us. Her idea seemed sound—to form a new Naiad ranger corps. A troop of archers, we would stay lightly armed and mobile. With our healing, we would stay in good health, able to outlast those who pursued us."

"Like today. You got me and Athian healthy enough to move."

"But we are too weak."

"You don't have the same physiology that humans do. You just have to play to your strengths if you want to be effective."

"Like swimming. That's what we thought. We would stay near water, able to escape. We thought if we could disrupt supply lines, it would help the human armies."

Visor said, "It did help to some extent. If nothing else, you created another threat. Even if overstated, it was something else Khatagin and Nazaire had to consider."

"The vardal and ogres ... they were just too much faster than us."

"We."

"And stronger. And smarter. They drew us from water and then we couldn't keep ahead of them. The humans of Krafer tried to prevent us from ever going out in the first place. They were right."

"Melee is not your strength. You have your buoyancy control, resistance to decompression sickness, and underwater scent. Your ability to heal is ... a powerful gift—incredibly valuable. But you have to have some diversity—some melee troops to hold them off of you, and someone to develop tactical plans. Krafer's Garrison will have troops you can join with."

"We were foolishly wasteful."

"Not completely. Now some of you have experience, and you can share that with others. You may be forced to help defend yourselves in the near future. We think that Nazaire's target is Xandria, not Raykez."

Crysalus was stunned. "We are the easier target, but why?"

"We don't know yet, exactly. It has to do with your healing. Our prisoner might be able to help answer that. If we're lucky, they'll have a telepath at Krafer's and we can get some answers."

"Then the Naiad rangers may continue. It will have to be different, though. We need the humans." She looked at Visor. "Will the Blade of Mercy be rebuilding your ranks when we reach Xandria?"

"The Blade of Mercy?"

"The Fist of Mercy. I apologize."

"No, I like 'Blade' better, actually." Visor jerked the line. He caught something. It was a small fish, but big enough to make it worth cooking. "We are not a military unit. Mercy is ... a complicated story. In any case, we're committed to another cause. It may actually end up helping with the war, but that's not the main purpose. Xandria may need you in the meantime."

"You had troops captured by Talon."

"Those were just other civilians we came across. We were in hiding with them in a cave. The Blade of Mercy is just me and Sorana, basically."

"You rescued Natalia-a."

"Yeah, we were able to sneak in and do that, with help."

"You saved us."

"We were certainly in the right place at the right time."

"Then you have done more in passing than we were able to accomplish trying our hardest. We will not be this foolish again."

"Not foolish—just inexperienced."

Crysalus's eyes followed a Godiva walking by. "What happened to Nattie? I last saw her years ago when she left for WaterCrescent."

"Look, she may not say anything to you, but she really would prefer you call her 'Rapture', particularly around non-sirens."

"I see. I will. Sorry."

"It's really not a big deal. Just a preference I thought worth mentioning." Visor summarized Rapture's binding to himself, her captivity in WaterCrescent and her first encounter with Burke.

Crysalus said, "It's strange—her healing. I have never seen another heal with her control. When you died, we were both on you. Your heart had stopped. That normally makes it difficult for us to heal. We use blood flow to distribute energy."

"That's why you can keep people alive, even with major wounds, as long as you get to them in time."

"Without the heart, we can only heal small areas near the surface. But Rapture was able to close an internal tear. That allowed the vampire to restart your heart." Crysalus turned to look at the camp behind them.

The breeze caught her hair, causing it to tickle Visor's cheek and neck. Her unwashed, oily hair was thick with sirenic scent.

Visor felt a rush of contentment. "We're thinking the changes to her are a result of drugs and experimentation by the vardal during her captivity. Maybe when we get to Xandria, your druids can figure it out for sure."

Crysalus said, "Perhaps, after we finish atonements."

Visor asked, "Atonements? For violence?"

"For violence in general, but mostly for the sonic attacks. You were dead when we unleashed them." Crysalus looked over Xandria Lake. "They—the wolves—were just animals, thank the Moon. Still, the druids take any sonic attack very seriously."

"Because of the Fracture?"

Crysalus took some time before answering. "Yes, because of the Fracture. I will not speak more of it here and now. We usually don't talk about that with non-sirens. But after seven years of binding, I'm guessing you already know."

# Chapter 24

Krafer's West

The Blade of Mercy and Naiad Rangers made the outer Xandria perimeter by midday.

The sirens split off toward Xandria Proper.

The Blade of Mercy went to Krafer-West garrison, a wooden fortification two miles outside of Xandria proper. It was one of the twin human forts that guarded Xandria. The other was Krafer-East.

Guards met them at Krafer's gate.

After greetings and a warning of invasion, Visor presented Armaan. "I transfer custody to you. He is a vampire. Do you know how to handle him?"

"Noted. We can handle him. Thank you." The lead guard, Quinn, regarded Sorana suspiciously. "Anything else?"

Visor stepped in front of Sorana. "That will be all."

"Iris, go ahead and take them to the mess." Quinn took Armaan away.

Iris brought them to the kitchen. "Jon should be here momentarily. Anything to drink?"

Cespenar said, "Oh, my! I thought you'd never ask. Do you have anything that's sweet?"

Iris said, "Actually, we do at _this_ post."

Athian said, "I think he takes any kind of nectar."

Cespenar jumped off of Athian's backpack and sat on a table. "And he takes wine-coolers, or a champagne cocktail."

Iris motioned toward a cook waiting near the kitchen. "A sweet mead for the pixie. And bring some kind of fermented barley concoction for the boys." She addressed Sorana as an afterthought. "And you, miss?"

Sorana said, "Water is fine."

Iris brought out some chips.

Visor asked, "Themiscyra flavored?"

Iris scrunched her face. "Excuse me?"

"There are a lot—you have a lot of women guards here."

Iris regarded him oddly. "Yes, we get assigned here because we're the closest to Xandria. It's less disruptive to the sirens. And it looks worse than it is. The guys are mostly out on patrol and checkpoints."

The main doors opened. A man strode in, flanked by two others. His thick black hair rolled down behind his shoulders. His wore plate mail—a mail shirt with sections of plate attached. He was clean shaven. His eyes were full of energy. All three men proudly displayed aqua hauberks with azure moon insignia identifying their role as protectors of Xandria. Then man in front said, "You must be Visor, the Savior of the Naiads!"

"Visor Mourning. I was there when the Naiads were rescued."

"Jon Richter. You had a prisoner as well?"

"He has been handed over to your jailor."

Jon asked, "Has Finnur been summoned?"

Iris said, "No."

Jon pointed at one of his patrolmen. "Go." He addressed Visor. "We happen to have a brain doctor visiting. I'd like to see what he can do with this prisoner. Is he really a vampire?"

Visor said, "Yes, he resuscitated me. I'd like to be in on the interrogation."

"No problem."

The cook handed Visor a drink.

Jon said, "Sorry for the cheap drinks tonight. We will break out the wine and brandy tomorrow. With any luck, we'll have some sirens here to drink with."

Visor said, "I certainly hope so, but Rapture and the Naiads have been away from Xandria for a while. Rapture needed to see home. She deserved a break. And our next mission will be dangerous. If we are successful, it could help save Xandria—and WaterCrescent. But that can wait a day. Xandria seems safe enough for now. Have you sent out riders?"

"For the Xandria call to arms? Not yet. I wanted more detail from you before raising the alarm."

Visor explained his theory that Xandria was Nazaire's next target.

Jon thought deeply then nodded. "I think you're right. I agree with you, when you explain it. But I don't think it will be as convincing when repeated by others." He talked to the other patrolman. "Gather up Strike patrol—and Zealot. Have them ready to travel to Raykez and Vozvul. Then meet us at the scribe's chamber." Jon turned to Visor. "We'll stop by the treasury. We may need to recruit a merchant's garrison if the Symphonic Knights and General Presence are unable to respond."

## ***************

"She's in there." Athian pointed to the second door on the left. He was whispering. "They are short on rooms so they put her in with the non-commissioned officers. I'll see you in a bit." Athian headed back to the infirmary, where the men of the Blade of Mercy were assigned to sleep.

"Gotcha. I just want to make sure she's not cowered in a corner somewhere." The hallway creaked as Visor walked. The creak was mostly covered by animal and wind noises that carried through the wooden wall. The cooks still worked in the kitchen, adding to the ambient sounds. Visor opened the door. The guard quarters was made for two, split by a half wall.

A female guard was asleep in the bed on one side.

Sorana lay awake but calm in the other.

He signed, _Are you okay?_

She signed, _Yes. Stay._

## ***************

Visor joined a morning patrol. The garrison was short of men with the patrols sent out to Raykez and Vozvul. They found indications of ogre scouting in the area.

Upon the return to Krafer-West, the white stone towers of Heidi's Gate could be seen above the tree line. Heidi's Gate separated Xandria Proper from the rest of the world.

At dinner, Visor finished describing the "Naiad Rescue" for the second time and leaned back against the wall.

Jon was true to his word: they did bring out the wine tonight.

Visor stretched his legs under the table. He stroked Sorana's hair and lower back.

Sorana pressed her thigh against his. It wasn't so crowded that touching was necessitated. Most of the crowd were women. Sorana seemed more comfortable, yet she remained mostly quiet.

The woman on the other side of Sorana, her roommate, Charlotte, looked back at him and giggled.

Visor asked, "What?"

A woman across the table smiled. "The walls here are thin."

"Seems sturdy enough, though." Visor repressed a smile and took a bite of brisket.

Jon called from a few seats down. "Visor, I think Finnur is going to try another interrogation after dinner."

Visor said, "I'll be there. I want to see how that whole brain doctor thing works."

"Psychologist," some woman said.

Jon said, "He hasn't gotten anything yet. But his methods are different than most shrinks."

"Psychologist," the woman repeated.

Another woman said, "Psychiatrist."

The room fell silent. Then a spontaneous clapping started.

Rapture entered the main hall, flanked by Crysalus and a few other sirens. They all looked radiant. Rapture grinned broadly. The other sirens blended into the dinner party.

Visor went to meet Rapture. "You seem happy. I take it the atonements went well?"

"All of the Naiads are absolved. The elders are still considering my case." Rapture had changed to more traditional sirenic dress. She wore earrings of silver and a necklace of alternating styles of shells. A bracelet of multi-tone fire agates included colors that matched her hair and freckles.

"You look like you have more to say."

She grabbed his hands. "Don, it's wonderful! You've been invited to visit Xandria proper!"

"What? How is that possible?"

"The druids want to meet you. We will be escorted the whole time. You will be isolated from the youth. You will have to bathe first and whatever, but you will be the first to see everything, at least since Heidi's Gate was built."

"Nice. When?"

"Now."

Visor turned to the tables. Some had heard the last of Rapture's excited words. They gawked at him. Visor held out his hands in an exaggerated shrug. "I'll be back later—maybe."

# Chapter 25

Xandria

Heidi's Gate was the most modern section of the sirenic city. The towers were tall and built with a special attention to detail. It was normally occupied only by sirens, but humans, typically women, were occasionally invited into designated portions.

Two older sirens—a Xandrian and a minor strain with blue hair—met Visor and Rapture near the entrance. Rapture and the other sirens semi-hugged and sampled each other's scents.

Rapture said, "Xandria, Arnleif, this is Visor."

Xandria said, "Welcome to Xandria, Visor. Please come with us."

As they walked, Rapture spoke softly to Visor. "These are council druids. There is one council druid for each strain. Well, for each main strain, then one for the others. We just call council druids by their strain, so these would be Xandria and Arnleif. It's fine if you just want to use 'Engel' though."

"So only a few druids total, then?"

"Four, most of the time."

"And two came to meet me?"

"Yes."

Visor was taken to an indoor pool, washed, and given a fresh set of clothing. "Thank you, Engels Xandria and Arnleif."

He was escorted out onto the cobble stone courtyard. Past that, the terrain became soft and natural. Trees were not dense at the trunk bases, but the upper branches flared enough to shade most of the ground. Strands of vine hung between the trees, entwining to form a loose-weave netting.

All around, sirens stopped what they were doing to observe him with interest. Most were of the three major strains, Godivas, Marigolds and Xandrians.

Rapture could not contain herself. "The netting helps retain warmth. The vine bridges run between the trees. We used to build tree houses here when I was growing up. It was mostly a big playground. Now, they built some guard posts." She pointed to a wooden structure that stretched from a guard post down to a pool. "That's still a water slide, though. Maybe it will rain while you're here."

They entered a planted field. The ground was soft and sank under his step.

Rapture lost her balance, but Visor caught her. She said, "The gardens are mostly strawberries and blueberries. Sometimes we rotate to other crops."

Visor and Rapture fed each other strawberries.

The two council druids followed at a distance, engrossed in their own conversation.

A shadow of a winged creature passed over the couple. Visor looked up. A large, white bird flew above the netting.

Rapture pointed up into the trees. "Those are albatross nests. This is their main habitat. The landing bays are past Vedis Hall, near the grottos."

"Landing bays?"

"Where the birds land and get saddles and reigns."

"They carry people?"

"Sometimes."

"They do look particularly big. I didn't realize albatrosses grew so large. But still, even the average Xandrian is over a hundred pounds. Say you can find some around ninety, how far can the bird carry them?"

"Oh, only children ride them. I never got to, but a lot of the Naiad rangers did. It's mostly for fun—sometimes for finding people or ships."

"Ah, no military application. That's why I never heard of it."

"And they're just strap saddles."

"What does that mean?"

"They aren't real saddles like we use on horses. They just strap in your legs. They aren't heavy."

"Okay, that makes more sense."

"They're talking about trying to make bigger birds." Rapture gestured at a large wooden structure built into the side of a hill. "That's Vedis Hall. It's where most of our politics are done, at least the stuff that doesn't involve humans. Some of us live there, but most homes are in the lower cascades of the peninsula. We have to go through the tunnels under Vedis Hall to reach it. Well, we could swim around it in the lake, but they won't let you."

A relatively mature Godiva met them at the entrance to the caves under Vedis Hall. She and Rapture exchanged hugs and sniffs.

Rapture said, "This is my mother, Frigg."

Frigg said, "Visor, it's nice to meet you—and nice of you to bring Nattie."

Rapture grimaced.

Frigg laughed. "We were starting to wonder if she would ever come home! I guess her senses took a real liking to you."

The five walked through the cave complex. Frigg showed them her dwelling. They sat for a time to enjoy a traditional sirenic drink. Frigg bid them farewell.

Rapture and the druid escorts took Visor out the back of the cave complex to lower Xandria. "We can't go past that fountain. The budding sirens congregate there. They don't want your stinky body confusing them." Rapture squinted. "In fact, it looks like they are doing a Budding Carol now. I wish you could see that. Oh! We could see it from Grotto Five! We're headed there anyway. Maybe we can stay." She looked him in the eyes. "You're going to like this."

The party walked across a floating, wooden bridge. Rapture said, "Don't fall in here. There are giant sting rays. They won't hurt sirens, but they'll sting you. And they can kill you."

Arnleif said, "There may be electric eels, too. And it's cold."

Visor asked, "Even with the hot springs?"

Arnleif said, "The warm water doesn't usually reach this far. It depends on the current."

The bridge moved with the waves, and Rapture had difficulty keeping balance. Visor wrapped an arm around her to support her. The two giggled the whole time, at one point pretending to fall into the lake.

They reached a small atoll. It featured a grotto carved out of stone. The grotto had a large fire place in the back. The fire was burning robustly. There were two sirens already in Grotto Five—a Xandrian and a Marigold.

Rapture acknowledged them. "Hi Lara. Greetings Marigold."

Lara was more mature than most, and somewhat thin, though she was more lean than frail. She smiled and nodded. "Hello Natalia-a ... Visor. It is a beautiful night." Lara spoke with a certain comfortable grace that made you feel unguarded yet beguiled.

Rapture smiled. "Yes, it really is."

Visor and Rapture sat on the floor in the front portion of the grotto. Rapture said, "The council druids elect a Konigin. The Konigin is like a queen, but different. Lara is the Konigin now."

The sirenic scent was overwhelming his senses and dulling his mind. Should he be wondering why the entire druid council wanted to see him?

The grotto was positioned as an observation room across the water from the ceremony area.

Visor viewed the sirens' preparing. "They're all Xandrians."

Lara said, "Yes, the budding carols are strain-specific. It's a celebration of the greatest gift—children."

Visor watched the Xandrians dance. They were all of child-bearing age. Most of them surrounded a select few—presumably those who had become pregnant. They sang a few chords, but mostly just hummed.

Rapture said, "They haven't started the Carols yet."

Lara said, "Xandrians are the most common strain. Did you know that?"

Visor shook his head. "No, Engel."

Lara asked, "Did you know that before the Fracture, banshee and sirens were one race—the nymph?"

"I did, Engel."

Lara said, "Traditional tale holds that the Fracture was precipitated by a division over war with the satyrs. One faction of nymphs believed that nymphs were destined to dominate Esselin with their divine beauty, voice and grace. That faction became the banshee.

"The other faction wanted to live in harmony with other races. They became the sirens.

"After the banshee destroyed the satyrs, they evicted us from our homeland, Wacken. We settled here in Xandria, where the Aurora Lights and the Azure Moon are especially bright over the lake. We have seven strains of siren in Xandria today. Twelve strains are known to exist.

"We reproduce by budding. We simply become pregnant without contribution from males. Pheromones of other races, particularly human males, can interfere with the budding process. Yet we cannot interbreed with other species of Esselin. It is a sacrifice that Natalia and others make—giving up the joy of having children in return for the protection humanity provides her sisters. It is the sacrifice of individuals that defines races."

Visor said, "In my studies, races are often defined in terms of selfishness. It's one of the prongs of civic virtue—selflessness, industriousness, and cognition. In theory, the races with the greatest civic virtue are more successful, at least in terms of social and technological development. They should also succeed in growth, but then, of course, you have the ogres—selfish, violent and mentally lacking—found all across Esselin."

"While sirens are limited to two small cities."

"The most selfless of all races. Theory just plays the percentages. Given a range of scenarios, sirens would succeed in the majority—just not all of them."

"We lack the ingenuity of humans."

"And our immune system. Perhaps you are still recovering from a civil war and relocation. You don't have the reproductive resiliency of humans or ogres. It would take time to recover."

"Yet, despite our shortcomings, we are cherished by all races. Well, not the ogres so much."

"That makes sense since you heal people. Well, pheromones have something to do with it as well. It is a curious point of study that your chemistry seems so suited to human sensitivities. You are the only sentient race that primarily uses scent for identification."

"You know a lot about us."

"My old job required me to know a lot of those kinds of things."

The Xandrians across the lake began a carol.

Rapture leaned into Visor. He put an arm around her and she placed a hand in his lap. He took in a deep breath of Rapture's scent, mixed with Lara's and others'. The daze he entered far exceeded anything provided by poppy seed.

The symphonic voices of nature traversed the night sky, magnified by the cool air over the lake. Sirenic voices sang words and hummed as instruments. It was a choir of angels and a celestial orchestra. His pulmonary and circulative systems reacted as their tones changed.

Rapture's wrist touched between Visor's thighs, and his body responded. Rapture stroked his lap and smiled. She stood and indicated that he should follow. She led him out the mouth of the grotto.

The other sirens had already left.

Rapture led him around the side of the grotto cave. They took a set of steps up to the roof. There was a hip-high pool of water ahead of them. On the opposite side, there was a gentle slope up to a ledge where a single tree stood. The grotto chimney ran through the pool.

Rapture pulled off her clothing and stepped into the pool, dunking her head. She bobbed back up, her hair straight and slick, sticking to her shoulders and back. "Come on."

Visor stepped in the chimney-warmed water after her. He scooted up behind her on his knees. She turned and kissed him. After a time, he laid her down on the grass under the tree. He lifted his face slightly away from hers. "Mi Ardore, are you compelling me?"

"No, Don. Why?"

"This just doesn't seem real."

"I feel it too."

"It's like a dream."

"The heaven of dreams."

"My heart is beating in response to you."

"Our hearts are dancing together."

"To a song of angels."

"To the song of my want and will."

"A storm unleashed."

"A love-bearing storm."

"A storm of sound and light."

"Reflecting upon us."

"On your skin so divine."

"In your eyes, so blue that I can't look away."

"Am I still dead?"

Rapture said, "You are not dead."

He studied her. Her wet hair was weighted so that it lay against the ground, except for the few strands that stuck to her neck and chest, on pale skin so smooth and flawless. He tried to touch her, but his hand stopped, trembling next to her cheek.

She moved her face to meet his hand.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?"

"No, Don. I don't believe you ever have."

I always just assumed you knew. "This is surreal. I look up, and I see Aurora and a blue moon, so bright in the cloudless night. Their colors are magnified by reflections on Xandrian Lake."

She looked up over her head as he spoke.

"To my right, and all around me, I hear a symphony of sirens, so pure and perfect."

She followed his gaze.

He looked back down at Rapture.

"And intimately with and under me, is you, so much more beautiful than all else. And you make me believe. You know I don't believe sirens are divinity, but you make me believe there is divinity." He moved his face close to hers. Her eyelashes tickle his cheek. He whispered in her ear. "Because I know that for this Natalia-a, of such beauty serene, to exist in this world, she could only have been planted by God."

"You touch my heart with your lips."

"I feel your tears with my fingertips."

"Let's live in this moment forever."

"This perfect moment in time."

## ***************

Visor awoke to Rapture's kissing him. He kissed her back for a while before opening his eyes. Rapture's hair blocked much of his view. He didn't know where he was. There was a stone, domed roof overhead, and a stone wall on one side. She dominated his perceptions.

Rapture asked, "Are you hungry?"

He remembered now that they'd crawled into the grotto to sleep. But now there were blankets that weren't there last night. "What ... food?"

"Well, food or me. Whichever."

"Sorry."

"Let's get to my mom's. I can't take you to Sting Ray because of your scent."

"Yeah, I guess I sweated some." He rubbed his eyes. "What's Sting Ray?"

"The community kitchen. It's close to Vedis Hall." She grabbed his hand and led him to Frigg's dwelling. Visor and Rapture ate a fruit salad breakfast with Frigg and Rapture's aunt. They discussed the various merits of sea food versus fruit diets. They ate from silver bowls with silver utensils. The discussion turned to the Xandrian silver smith, the Hartzler. Frigg set up a tour for Visor and Rapture. Visor took another bath before he and Rapture met Frigg at the Hartzler.

A crest hung over the main entrance. It was bust of a siren wearing headgear with antlers. She wore a vest with a heart on it, and held a dove in one hand. The background was a mesh of vines and leaves. The entire crest appeared to be made out of silver, but portions had a blue or gold tint, and other portions were tarnished, giving good contrast to the image.

Frigg walked them through Hartzler's production floor, explaining the process. "Silver is malleable compared to the steel that you are used to working. Whereas you heat iron to soften it, and then pound it into shape, silver is shaped into plates and then cut with a saw. First, you pierce it." Frigg picked up a sharp instrument and held it up for show. "Then you slide the blade in through the pierced slot. With the blade now inside the silver plate, you twist on a handle to tension the blade. Then you cut the general pattern."

Frigg motioned toward a Marigold who was cutting a sheet of silver. "If you want to make a good first cut, you can use a fine-toothed saw. The rougher blades let you cut faster, but then if you are making small cuts, as we do for a lot of the jewelry we make here, you might ruin a section of plate. The shavings are collected and reheated, so it's not really wasted. But then later plates will have a mix of silver from different batches, which can be bad. For some designs, you want to use silver plates formed from a single ingot."

The Marigold repositioned the sheet of silver she was cutting. She clipped it between two clamps attached to her work bench, making sure the sheet was supported on either side of her sawing path. She lubricated the saw and continued cutting.

Frigg said, "You have to repeatedly lubricate the blade so that it doesn't catch and snap." Frigg led them to a darker area. "This is the soldering area. It is purposefully darkened so that the color of hot solder can be used to judge its temperature. Silver requires a particular solder. For example, you can't use the same solder that you use for bronze because heated bronze solder would melt the silver."

Rapture backed into Visor and he wrapped his arms around her.

Frigg picked up two different strands of solder and held them up side by side. "In some of the more complex pieces, multiple layers of solder are required. You always use the heaviest solder first, then layer the lighter solder over it."

Frigg led the trio to a vat of liquid with a vinegary smell. "As you work the silver, it becomes more brittle. That is the same as your steel, Visor. You have to repeatedly heat the silver to soften it. Silver will emit a soft pinkish-red glow when it is heated enough. You then put it in water right away to cool it quickly. Sometimes the heating will tarnish the silver. You then have to soak the piece in a pickling salt solution to remove the tarnish."

Frigg walked to the end of the shop, where several sirens rubbed silver pieces with cloths. "Polishing can be the most tedious step, but contributes the most to the luster of the final product."

As they left the silver smith, Frigg said, "And now it is time for Visor to go back to Krafer-West."

Rapture groaned and Visor grunted in protest. They laughed at themselves.

Frigg said, "It was a joy hosting you, Visor. I hope you enjoyed your visit."

"Oh, yes—I did very much. Thank you for all of your effort."

Frigg said, "I will walk you out. You will be summoned for Nattie's atonement hearing."

# Chapter 26

The Blade of Mercy

Athian ran out of the Krafer-West gate as Visor approached. "Visor! Hurry up!"

Visor jogged. "What's going on?"

"It's Sorana! The doctor has her! He wants to take her back to Raykez, and Jon is out on patrol!"

Visor ran to Krafer-West's courtyard. Sorana and Armaan were ankle-shackled inside a cage that was mounted on a wagon.

A well-dressed man, presumably doctor Finnur, argued with one of the female guards. He had a neatly-trimmed, gray beard.

Visor ran up to the cage, pushing people out of the way. It was locked. "Where's the key!"

Finnur glanced at Visor and then back at the female guard, who Visor now recognized as Charlotte. "I'm telling you. Jon already gave me permission!"

Charlotte stood up to Finnur. "But we weren't made aware of that. You can wait!"

A disinterested Krafer-West Lieutenant said, "Oh, just let him go."

Visor pointed at the lieutenant. "You shut it!" He walked up to Finnur. "Do you have the key?"

Finnur frowned. "Not on me. And it doesn't matter anyway. She needs to go with me. She's a danger to herself and others."

Visor partially withdrew Armaan's sword, Fifi. "Yeah, well I'm about to be, too."

The lieutenant drew his sword. "Whoa, there! Stand down!"

Finnur's personal guard grabbed Visor's arm. "Careful, boy."

Charlotte said, "Put it away, Visor."

Visor slid Fifi back into her sheaf. He held out his fist, showing his advisor's ring. "Do you know what this is? It's WaterCrescent's symbol. I speak for Lord Mourning and the Duchess of Augusta. Stand down, all of you. You, release her!"

Charlotte said, "Let's just calm down. Jon is due back within the hour. We can get this straightened out then."

The lieutenant said, "There's nothing to straighten out. Jon gave the doc authority."

Charlotte said, "He meant over the prisoner vampire, not her."

"Hey!" Finnur's guard jumped and swiped at the air.

Cespenar flew away, struggling to carry a key chain.

Finnur said, "Look, Visor, I don't know who this woman is to you. But she needs help. If you would just give me a minute to explain something, I'm certain you would agree with me."

"I'm fine with that. In the meantime, she stays put, right?"

"Fine, but you need to hear me out."

As voices calmed, the crowd started to break up.

The lieutenant wandered off.

Charlotte stayed, keeping a close eye on Finnur's guard.

Finnur said, "That you have traveled with her safely for so long is just luck—a matter of odds. She likely suffers from something we call tempestuous histrionic disorder. That's among numerous other disorders. Without help, she could eventually snap and kill whoever is around."

"She's not insane."

Armaan said, "Actually, she's quite insane, mon ami."

"No one asked you." Visor turned back to Finnur. "Look, I know she is socially awkward. Some people think that means something is wrong with her."

Finnur shook a finger. "No, sir. That is not it at all. She hears voices."

Visor groaned. "Oh, whatever. You brain-doctors—"

Finnur's scribe said, "Psychiatrists."

"—are all the same. 'Voices'—that's the ticket. You know, I hear voices all the time. A voice of doubt. Voices from the past. I day dream and hear voices. Do I need to be locked up?"

Finnur said, "That depends—do you hear a voice that tells you that your conception was in suffering?"

Visor asked, "What?"

"A hollow voice of ice?" Finnur stepped back and beckoned Visor. Finnur waved his scribe over. "Sorana's notes."

The scribe handed a stack of parchments to Finnur.

Finnur flipped through them, stepping further away from the crowd as he did so. "Here it is." Finnur waved Visor closer. Finnur read loud enough for Visor to hear, but faced so that his voice carried away from the larger group. "'It is hollow and echoing ... ancient—terrifying, like a corpse with a frozen throat.' She goes on to name times she's heard similar voices or sounds."

Finnur scanned his notes. "Down here is more:

'Does he speak to you when you sleep?'

'No, it is while I try to fall asleep.'

'What does he say?'

'He tells me that I am lost. I was conceived in pain and born in isolation. I am a stain of humanity. I will be abandoned, and those whom I draw close will die. I will perish alone, between the beasts of earth and sea.'"

Visor said, "So she's trying to describe something she thought you wanted to hear so that you would stop questioning her. She's a lot smarter than she lets on."

Finnur said, "She may well be, but I don't think that's what she was doing in this case. There's more—another voice:

'She screams that it is all lies. She sounds like me, yet with the passion of a siren and the strength of an ogre. She is a monster, frightful and powerful, dark as coal and hard as steel. Hoards flee at her approach. Her breath melts the flesh of those who stand to face her. She is an icon of malevolence, a mirror of opposition to the cold voice. Yet, she loves and protects me. She is my key to freedom ... and my keeper.'

"Here is something else:

'I was on a bridge—no, the shore of a lake—a dry lake. We walked along the steep shore. There was an edge with a long fall. A small boy followed me.'

'Who was the boy?'

'Jarrod. There was another me behind him, and Jarrod fell.'

"Does this sound familiar to you?" Finnur studied Visor. "I see that it does."

"What did you do? You were supposed to interrogate Armaan."

Finnur said, "I talked to her. Have you ever?"

"Yes, I have, and she doesn't talk like that, with a bunch of extraneous adjectives."

"She does under hypnosis."

"Son of a bitch!" Visor lunged at the doctor.

Somehow, the older Finnur sidestepped Visor's attack. Visor got a grip on his clothing, but Finnur was able to slip from his grasp and move away. It took Visor a few seconds to realize that he'd been pulled to the ground.

The scribe and Athian were holding him down.

Charlotte was standing over them now. "Visor! Stop it!"

Visor stopped struggling. "Okay."

The scribe and Athian let go.

Finnur waved his off his guard. He took another step away from Visor and the crowd.

Visor concentrated on his breathing. When he felt his face start to cool off, he became aware of the remaining crowd's looking at him. He felt rather foolish.

Finnur beckoned him closer. "You need to realize what we're dealing with here. She is not an adult of sound mind. What you and that nymph of yours do to her is ... not becoming of a siren. It feeds her obsession, and is only going to drive her to greater deviant behavior. And it's obviously having an effect on you. Think about it: an officer of Mourning's court behaving like that!"

"I'm dealing with a lot of things right now."

"Think about Rapture. Are you willing to risk harm to Rapture, keeping around someone that could snap if the wrong mood strikes her?"

"Sorana wouldn't hurt us. There are a lot of things you don't know about her."

"I'm sure that's true. But I do know she needs help. I can do that in Raykez. I have the equipment and staff there."

"I made a promise to take her back home."

Finnur's face softened. "She's disassociated. Has she told you about the wolves? She told the same story to me several times. It was the same story, but _she_ was different each time." Finnur found a section of notes and read:

'I stood with the others, watching the girl. Her clothing was torn, her hair singed. Her eyes were dilated and darting like a confused animal.

'Athian was there. It didn't look like him but I know it was him. He said, "Let the wolves have at her. It is more than she deserves."

'Then Rapture said, "No! Look at her! She doesn't even know where she—who she is. We don't even know if she's the one."

'Visor was there, except he was wearing a knight's armor. He said, "Forgive me, Baroness, but we do know. And I know it seems cold, but looking at her now, and after what she did, we should run her through and end this here and now."

'And then Visor and I spoke together, "It truly is the kinder fate."

Finnur said, "Then she told me the same story again, but the people were switched around."

"Not much of a leap, a Duchess to a Baroness. This only involved people she met recently. It's obviously just made up on the spot. Look, are we done?"

Finnur gave a resigned sigh. "I see that you will not let her go, despite the evidence. You are the hero of the moment, Naiad-rescuer. You would win Jon's judgment if we argued before him. So I'll back down. But please, if you ever change your mind, you can find me on Wildwind, between Luvia's manse and Worthington's stronghold. That is my home. I office at the university, and the receptionist can help you find me."

# Chapter 27

Judgment

Crysalus met the Blade of Mercy and Jon outside the towers of Heidi's Gate. "All of the other atonements have been officially completed. All are declared innocent, though we have been requested to remain in Xandria for the time being. Rapture's atonement is being held here so that some visitors from Krafer-West could attend."

She led them into Heidi's Gate, where a Marigold escort joined them. They went upstairs and found a small, dark room with a glass wall that separated it from a large, decorated room where most of the sirens were seated. Crysalus sat at one end of the front bench and gestured for Visor to sit next to her. "This is the court room balcony. It was built so that visitors could witness the court proceedings without a lot of preparation."

Visor said, "Do you mean the sponge baths?"

"Yes, some find that uncomfortable." Crysalus gestured widely to the court below. "The Naiad Rangers are all in attendance."

There were about fifty sirens in total. The Naiads were sitting together. Some of them wore their military outfits.

The glass muffled sound, making it impossible to hear softer talking in the room below. The balcony was darkened and the courtroom lit. It was probably difficult for those in the court room to see into the balcony.

Crysalus pointed to one end of the room below. "That is the judge's bench. That's where Lara and the druids will be seated."

"What is that?" Athian looked at the opposite end of the room. "It's marvelous."

A statue dominated the main entrance of the court room. Two siren likenesses held a moon high between them. The moon was pure silver and heavily adorned with blue topaz. The sirens were made of stone but largely plated by silver. Topaz gems highlighted their facial feature and sections of their clothing. The moon poured a stream of water that was collected in a bowl. The bowl's interior was plated with silver. Twin archways under the siren's outstretched arms provided the main entrance to the court room.

Crysalus said, "That is Serenity. It is a monument to the founding of Xandria. The bowl is called the Reflecting Pool." Sirens took their seats below. "Rapture will be entering at any moment. We think Lara is planning something special—just the fact that they moved the proceedings here and saved Rapture for last. Really, Rapture should have been first, since she wasn't out 'looking for trouble' like the rest of us."

Athian said, "What are you expecting?"

"There has been talk. People are excited. There hasn't been a service commendation awarded for a generation. Some think we will see it today."

"You have commendations for military service?"

"Well, not a lot, like you humans do. It could be a Notice of Serenity. Or a Silver Star, though that's not really for combat. Maybe even an azure moon, but that would be surprising."

Rapture entered the court room below, flanked by Burke, two other Godivas and some additional sirens. She looked tiny next to the massive Serenity. Rapture was beautiful, as always. Her radiance stood out even in a crowd of Godivas. She dipped her hand in the reflecting pool as she passed, as did the rest of her party. She sat at a table near the front.

Lara entered the courtroom with the druid council from a passage behind the bench. They sat as respectful silence fell over the chamber.

Arnleif spoke first, describing the purpose of atonement proceedings.

Marigold then summarized Rapture's assignment to WaterCrescent, her trials in the AciesMagus, and recent adventures, including the rescue of the Naiad Rangers. She was occasionally interrupted by light applause.

Lara took the podium. "A sister is before us seeking atonement. She is one to be admired for her heroic and selfless acts. She has given much for the continued success of our society. She has shown strength in the face of adversity.

"Sacrifice is the foundation—"

At those words, Rapture wrinkled her face and twisted her jaw. A collective sigh of dismay escaped the Naiad Rangers. Sirens looked at each other in confusion.

Visor whispered, "What does that mean?"

Crysalus shook her head in disbelief.

Jon said, "In sirenic politics, 'sacrifice' is a key word for guilty."

Lara was still speaking. "That while most of us know the love of Xandria from the inside, our sister Natalia has seen love from inside and out, in a reality that most of us will never comprehend. She has moved beyond the emotion by which we live, to discover the devotion that other races might know."

Rapture was quivering.

Burke's ears were pinned back.

Frigg hugged Rapture.

Lara continued. "But as bright as an individual might shine, it the life of the community I am bound to protect. Sacrifice for community is the essence of Xandria, and the larger sisterhood of sirens."

Crysalus said, "I've never heard this. This can't be."

Lara was silent for a moment, staring past the audience to the Serenity. She sucked in a cheek and clenched her jaw. She took a forced breath. "Natalia-a Red Flame, First Godiva of the Blue Moon, daughter of Frigg, and Engel of WaterCrescent, it is with a heavy heart that I recall you to—"

Rapture cried out and covered her mouth.

The Naiads groaned in dismay.

Crysalus popped up from her seat, shocked and appalled.

Visor could barely hear Lara over the commotion. "You will submit to the Fracture. Refusal results in exile, and excommunication."

Frigg hovered protectively in front of Rapture. "Lara, why?"

Lara's gaze was distant. "The atonement will reconvene in seven minutes. The Fracture shall take place immediately following the conclusion of the atonement." She arose with the other druids and left the room.

Athian asked, "What just happened?"

Crysalus said, "Visor just lost his girlfriend. They're going to break the binding."

Jon asked, "Isn't that painful—I mean the withdrawal?"

Crysalus said, "It's excruciating ... and horrible to watch. Heiliger Mond doch mal, she can't do this, Konigin or not."

Visor felt weak. He knelt in front of the glass.

Sorana crouched beside him and grasped his arm.

Athian gasped. "This is crazy. Why? Who is this helping?"

Crysalus said, "I can't imagine."

# Chapter 28

Sacrifice

The council druids formed a semi-circle behind Lara.

Arnleif closely watched an hourglass. "Six minutes."

Lara held her hands tightly behind her back, watching Natalia-a through a concealed window. Natalia-a wept in despair.

Arnleif said, "Five minutes."

Marigold said, "This was wrong. What have we done?"

Xandria said, "It was not. You saw them together. You smelled her. She is broken."

Godiva said, "If she fails, then it is our failing. We should have given more time."

Xandria said, "There was no more time. We were delaying the atonement too long as it was."

Marigold said, "She will not do it. She doesn't have the strength."

Lara clenched her jaw. "It's not her strength that matters. It is his. She just has to realize that."

"She can't do that. It is not within us—any of us—to abandon home." Marigold said, "She may have lived among humans, but she is not one of them."

Lara said, "No, she is not. She is a siren. And she will do what she is born and trained to do. She will follow her body."

Marigold said, "But her body doesn't—"

"She doesn't know that!" Lara watched Natalia-a weep.

Marigold said, "But this! We don't have the right!"

"Pssshhhh!" Xandria motioned for Marigold to quiet herself.

Marigold continued in a hushed voice. "We had other options. We still do."

Lara said, "And when you are Konigin, we may choose them."

Arnleif said, "Four minutes."

Godiva asked, "What aren't you telling us?"

Marigold said, "Is this because of the winged serpent? The one you meet with alone—by the cherry orchard?"

Lara said, "I am doing what has to be done to protect Xandria, as is my place."

Godiva said, "This cannot be undone. If we do this here today, the course of her life is forever altered. All of us will be guilty if we later learn we should have acted differently."

Marigold said, "I can't just stand by and watch."

"No confidence," said Arnleif.

Marigold said, "Just tell us why. What has the serpent told you? Why are you starving some of the Xandrians? Yourself?"

Lara said, "I can't." It is the words of oracles that drive events today.

Marigold sighed. "No confidence."

Natalia-a stopped shaking and lowered her hands to the table. She focused past the floor.

Xandria turned on Lara. "Do you place the words of a serpent above our own sister? We don't know this creature. She is a Natalia, and a heroine of a generation."

"She is much more than that." So very much more. For the sake of Xandria's future, she can't stay here. Lara clenched her fist, digging her nails into her palm. "Do what you must."

Xandria said, "I'm sorry, mother. No confidence."

Arnleif said, "Three minutes."

Natalia-a turned to Frigg with resolve. She hugged her mother and said something. Then Frigg was the one weeping. Natalia-a turned to the Godiva on the other side of her—her sister. The two embraced and the sister dropped her head. Those were goodbyes.

Lara let out her breath. "It is done." She looked upon the great statue. "May Serenity watch over the heroine of Xandria."

Marigold said, "I can't believe it. She left home."

Lara said, "No, she found it."

## ***************

"She should be out any minute." Crysalus stood outside the entrance of Heidi's Gate, waiting with the Blade of Mercy.

The Blade was mounted and ready for travel, with one riderless but heavily packed mount.

"I brought something for you." Crysalus opened a pouch and hesitantly withdrew a silver emblem. She held it in her palm so that Visor and others could view it. "It's supposed to be a fox, in case you can't tell."

Visor said, "I can tell. It's good workmanship."

Crysalus smiled. "I made these for the Naiad Rangers. I thought it would be good for us to have something to show who we were, in case we were ever separated, and just to have something we shared. But I didn't finish enough in time. And now it looks like we won't ever be using them. I thought maybe you would like one. I have enough for all of you, if you want one."

Visor said, "Sure. That's really cool. Thanks."

Athian said, "Absolutely. It's gorgeous."

Crysalus handed out the silver foxes. "I did the shaping on all of these. There are more but I picked out the best ones. A couple of these have fire stains, though. I reheated too fast. I never got around to pickling off the stains, so I just polished them as well as I could."

Athian slid his fox emblem onto a neck chain. "Thank you so much."

Sorana held hers preciously.

Cespenar played with his a bit and then asked Athian, "Can you hold this for me?"

Crysalus handed an extra one to Visor. "I'm not supposed to talk to Rapture once she walks through that door. If you would give her this?"

Visor said, "Of course."

Crysalus said, "There is one other thing. I want you to know that had Rapture decided differently, I would have gone with you in her place, if you would have me. I would never try to be her, but I would have been honored to travel with you as your healer."

Visor said, "We would have been honored to have had you. And you never know what the future holds. Maybe you'll be back out some day. Though you are still young, and you can still have children."

The door to Heidi's Gate opened. Rapture walked out with Burke trailing. She had removed all of her traditional sirenic clothing. She was wearing the harmonic metal chain mail and leather pants under a traveling cloak. Crysalus and Rapture passed each other, locking gazes.

Crysalus entered Heidi's Gate and the door closed.

Rapture mounted her horse. "Let's go." She set her mount to trot and never looked back.

# Chapter 29

Eternity

The Blade of Mercy entered Skarholt Forest from the east, mid-morning on the third day. It was a slow pace, finding level pathways for horses that weren't used to forest travel. Sorana led, but it was unclear how she was determining direction. They came across an alfanar hermit. Sorana exchanged some words with him and adjusted their heading.

It was late afternoon when they located the Tower of Mercy, almost hidden from view within the clump of trees. It seemed further into the forest than last time. Sorana rode up to the stable doors. "Mother." She dismounted, and the rest of the Blade followed suit.

A latch slid on the far side of the door.

The door swung open and Mercy stood awaiting the travelers. She wore a red rose in her hair, and a full length, white maxi dress. Mercy smiled smartly. "Welcome all. I've been waiting for you. Come in."

Sorana said, "Hello, Mother."

Mercy half-curtsied. "Min Velsignet."

Visor moved aside to let others enter before him. "This is Rapture."

Mercy curtsied. "Your Grace."

Rapture bowed hesitantly. "Greetings, Mercy."

"Is this your cat? He is so beautiful." Mercy looked down at Rapture's abdomen and took a barely perceptible stutter-step backwards. She quickly recovered her demeanor. "Forgive me. I have never met a siren in person. I was struck by your beauty."

Rapture stopped and cocked her jaw. "That's an interesting perfume. What is it?"

Mercy said, "It is primarily distilled jasmine. There is a bit of lavender and an activating agent. I have extra, if you would like some."

Rapture narrowed her eyes. "Jasmine. I see. No, thank you. I'm fine with my own scent."

Visor said, "The snow leopard is Burke. He belongs to Rapture. And this is Athian, a friend of mine—and a moderately capable bard."

Mercy curtsied. "Welcome Athian, bard."

Visor said, "The little one in his backpack is Cespenar, a ... pixie."

Athian twisted his torso so that Cespenar was more visible to Mercy.

Mercy said, "Welcome all. The stable is to your left—the privy down to the right. May I take your mount, Your Grace?"

Rapture said, "Sure."

Visor took his mount to the stable. Mystique was there. "She found her way home?"

Mercy said, "She is well-trained. If you would like to head upstairs, Sorana and I can take care of the horses. You have the Archon Suite, as before. It is prepped for two. I'm sorry to presume, but I have limited guest space. You're welcome to stay in the stable loft if you would prefer. Cespenar might be more comfortable in the library."

Visor said, "The room is fine. I had some urgent items to discuss, though. I was hoping you could take a look at Rapture. And there is a development in the war—they're after Xandria." He leaned in to whisper. "And I have some questions about vampires."

Mercy continued tending the horses. "I understand, Visor. However, I would begin with a bath and meal for the weary travelers, unless she in pain."

Visor said, "Rapture? Oh, the limp. No, it's natural for her. It can wait. I agree. We will speak at dinner."

Mercy said, "Yes, when you are ready."

Visor returned to Rapture and held out his arm for her. "With me, Your Grace? You're going to like this place."

"M-hmm." Rapture took his arm but did not look at him. "Did she smell good?"

"What?"

"Well, it looked like you got close enough, so I just assumed you were checking."

"I was whispering something I didn't want Sorana to hear. And she's just a human anyway."

"Ah, I see. But she is pretty, though. I mean, for a human." Rapture pulled her hand from his arm and stroked the sides of her breasts. "And _perky_."

Visor shrugged. "I guess."

They reached the top of the stairs. Light reflected from some of the ceiling mirrors onto the garden's blooming flowers.

Rapture expelled a gasp. "Oh, it's beautiful."

Visor walked Rapture to the bench. "It's a nice spot for reading."

Athian caught up to them. "Wow! That is a _nice_ garden!"

Cespenar flew past him and landed near a tulip.

Athian pointed at a flower. "Hey Pixie, I think this one needs to be pollinated."

Rapture smelled and stroked the various flowers. She performed dance steps between them, stumbling in the uneven, loose dirt.

"There are certainly some beautiful flowers." Visor looked upon Rapture.

Rapture knelt to study an arrangement of flowers with blue, five-petal blooms. "I like these." She smelled the flowers and then stroked them gently.

"Take one if you wish. They are pratense geraniums." Mercy entered the garden behind them. "The flowers here grow quickly. I often have to prune to prevent them from suffocating each other." Mercy picked a geranium. She pushed Rapture's hair back on one side and slid the geranium over Rapture's ear. The bloom wasn't robust enough to hold Rapture's hair back, but it looked nice.

"The mirrors are arranged to catch the morning sun regardless of the time of year. Each ceiling mirror is at one end of a channel that leads to the outside. A system of mirrors in the channels brings light to the garden. The sun feeds the garden from early morning until mid-afternoon each sunny day. Any moisture is dried up, preventing infections and fungus."

"Similarly, rain water is funneled to the garden from outside. I have worked the soil so that the water distributes itself to all of the plants. The soil is layered over sand, which sits upon a gravel bed, allowing water to drain so that the plants don't drown.

"Too many rainy days can cause disease or death. Too few can cause drought. The system is designed to rebalance what nature provides."

Mercy stroked a dying pink rose. "Despite all efforts, the flowers die after a couple of seasons. Their biology tells them it is time to pass the world on to the next generation. The nut trees which surround this tower, however, will endure eternally. They are a clonal colony—sprouts of a shared root system. They are eternally young."

Mercy stood. "But enough of my pastime. I'm sure you are all eager for a bath and meal."

# Chapter 30

Understanding

Visor showed Rapture to their room.

She stepped in and looked around. "Wow!"

Mercy had added a full-wall tapestry that depicted a large group of sirens traveling over land. There was also a chandelier positioned in front of the window to refract sun light into rainbow colors around the room. The bed now had a maroon velvet canopy suspended from the posts.

Visor checked the wardrobe. It now included female clothing.

"Hey! Look at this!" Rapture was leaning in past the bed curtains.

Visor scooted beside her and leaned in. "What?"

Rapture lay on the bed, rolling onto her back. She grabbed his shirt to pull him down on her so that they were eye to eye. "This."

Later, Visor held Rapture, listening to and feeling her breathe. What was the world that such an enthralling creature could come to exist? If nature were in balance, what wicked, unspeakable horrors must exist elsewhere?

"Don."

"Yes."

"Please don't take this the wrong way: Have you ever thought maybe we should stop with Sorana, at least for a while?"

"Yep."

"It's just that Athian said something to me the other night. He doesn't trust her. He doesn't like what we do with her."

Visor sighed. "He's not the only one. Finnur had a few things to say about it."

"And that oboe bitch. Excuse the vardal."

"And Jon."

"Which Jon is that?"

"Jon Richter, the base commander of Krafer-West. Long hair, military type—kind of like Blaydon but not such an asshole all the time."

"I see. Did you forget something?"

"Oh, excuse the Vardal. I think she's just hard for people to get. But then again, maybe we're not seeing something. Maybe we're too close."

"Yeah, it feels that way sometimes."

"You're right. We should stop with her, at least while we're here. She'll be on that drug therapy. And I have a strange feeling that Mercy is always watching."

"Oh, you're thinking about her?"

"What?"

"Nothing."

Visor bathed first and went down to the library so that Rapture wouldn't feel rushed.

Cespenar was sitting in the sill of a stained glass window.

Visor picked up Mercy's tome _Vampire Fields_ and started reading.

Athian soon joined them.

Visor said, "The current vampire queen lives in Eurydice. Their population is integrated with the vardal, similar to how the sirens are integrated with humans, except that vampires are more evenly distributed among vardal cities. Eurydice is the vampiric capital, and about half the population is vardal."

Athian asked, "Belle Font is the vardal capital?"

"Yeah, and it's mostly vardal. I think there are more vardal in total population." Visor read some more. "Vampiric electrical auras are similar to the vardal, except that they are tuned to biological processes. Vampires cannot weld metal as a vardal can, but can stop or restart a person's heart. They can't be healed by sirens."

Mercy arrived in a coral color dress with ivory trim. She offered Visor a mug.

He looked up at Mercy and accepted the drink. "Thanks." He tried it. "This is very smooth."

Mercy said, "I'm pleased that you like it. Anything for you, Athian?"

Athian said, "The same, please."

Visor studied her dress. "That's an impressive design. It looks good on you."

Mercy said, "Thank you. I designed it for my particular qualities. With brown eyes and hair, my skin's tone is the most important color to compliment. Being relatively pale, the coral and ivory are most pleasing to human senses." Mercy twisted at her waist and held her arms out to show off the dress. "The girls are ready. Let's convene at the dinner table".

## ***************

Sorana walked down the stairs first. She wore a form-fitting silk and lace tunic. The sleeves were a lime-green silk, long and flared at the ends. Her tights were a lemon yellow. She was notably serene.

Athian said, "Wow, Mercy. Did you make that?"

Mercy said, "I did. It is a traditional vardal. It is a dated style, but still considered formal dress. As symphonic metal becomes more common, fine metallic armor is replacing formal civilian clothing in civilian occasions."

Rapture walked down the stairs. She wore an earthy-tan base dress that supported and showed off her bosom. Rusty orange trim highlighted the cuffs and skirt. She wore a brass belt.

Visor met Rapture and helped her negotiate the stairs.

Athian said, "Very nice work, Mercy."

Mercy said, "I only wish I had a blond. I've been working on a violet piece that would go so well with that."

Cespenar hopped back to his chair and pointed at Athian. "Hey, there's one! I think he likes pink!"

Athian rolled his eyes. "I don't cross-dress, you ignorant bug."

Mercy and Sorana brought food out to the table. Mercy said, "Because Sorana's skin is a golden tone of gray, lemon green and yellow are the best compliments. Her hair is dark brown, so it matches anything. I had to sprinkle some amber into the white lace to match her eyes."

Visor asked, "Rapture's complimentary color is tan?"

Mercy said, "Because she has all of the primary colors between red hair and green eyes, and extra skin color with her subdued freckles, her best complimentary colors are earth tones."

Athian asked, "Are you saying that the primary colors are green and red?"

Cespenar said, "Red, yellow and blue."

Visor said, "Those are reference colors that you can make all other colors from. Green is the mix of blue and yellow. The light brown of her freckles has all three—mostly red with some green, and a little blue."

Athian drank his white wine. "That's what I usually hear. But sometimes people argue about that. Some of my painter friends say that some paint colors can't be duplicated by starting with the primary three."

Cespenar said, "That's because they are human." Cespenar laid his hand across his chest. "I can make any color. Try me."

Mercy said, "That's a bit different. The mixing rule is a law of physics and must hold true, but assumes perfectly equal color saturation. This means the blue is pure, intense blue, without any thinner or other colors. The two colors would have to be made of the same material and perfectly mixed. That works with light but not always with materials that reflect the light, such as paint." Mercy pointed at the stained glass. "There are red and blue panels in the stained glass. If we shined light at an angle so that the colors overlapped, we would see a violet. But if we mixed the red and blue dyes that were used to stain the glass and shined light through the resulting glass, we might see a different violet. And if we started with a different batch of red a blue dies, the chance of matching is miniscule."

Athian swallowed some chicken. "I was just curious—what causes a person's eyes to change color? Like if there is a fire nearby."

Mercy said, "A person's normal eye color is determined by a dye produced by our bodies. If an outside light source other than pure white reflects into someone's eyes, it can change her color according to mixing rules."

"Why wouldn't everyone's eyes change?"

"Different people have different color saturation in their eyes. Those with a full saturation, and a dark color, would be less affected."

"Okay, how would a person's eyes change to red when there is no fire around?"

"There is a certain amount of color reflected from the blood vessels behind one's eyes. If unfiltered, white light of sufficient intensity were shone into one's eyes, or if his natural dye were subdued for some biological reason, the color of his eyes could be altered to match the color of the red blood vessels. Additionally, there are creatures that are genetically suited to reflect or mimic the colors of the surrounding environment. This is often a defensive camouflage mechanism, and could cause eyes to change color. The pixie does this, and also purveys environment-altering coloration."

Athian said, "So what would cause the blood vessel to become—"

"OOOOOhhh ... wooooo". Cespenar landed on Athian's head. He was making his eyes flash various colors. He pointed at himself. "Pixie coloration."

Mercy said, "Yes, like that. And you might want to slow down on the mead. It will be there tomorrow." She turned to Athian. "If you are interested, the tome _Light-bending_ explains this further. It includes diagrams that might be easier to understand."

# Chapter 31

Liberation

Don said, "We have some urgency to find the Catalyst. The vardal-Jortal-buway alliance is targeting Xandria. The Krafer garrisons won't slow them down much. There were some troop commitments from Raykez, but not nearly enough to defend against Khatagin or Nazaire."

Don and Mercy went on to discuss some tactics at length. She knew everything about everything, and liked to make a point of it. She would not just _shut up._ And he egged her on.

Athian was across the table from Rapture. She targeted a yawn at him. She cupped her hands while doing so, hiding her yawn from Mercy and Don.

Athian responded with an eye roll. When Don mentioned bullying Finnur away from Sorana, Athian flexed his muscle at Rapture. She giggled. Rapture and Athian exchanged some more gestures until something Mercy said caught her attention.

Don said, "My what?"

"Your flare." Mercy eyed his waist.

Don patted himself down and withdrew a snake figurine. "What—this? I didn't know it did anything. I picked it up at Wescott's chamber. How did you even know I had it?"

Athian gave Rapture an exaggerated look of shock and wiggled his fingers as if he were casting spooky magic. He smirked and took another drink.

Mercy said, "You can cause the snake figurine to spontaneously ignite. You should know this intuitively."

Don shrugged. "Well, I can't get it to do anything."

"I don't understand why not." Mercy stood and walked past Rapture to Don, leaving a trail of jasmine scent.

Rapture felt tension building up in her jaw.

Athian raised an eyebrow, giving Mercy an exaggerated look of suspicion.

Mercy stood behind Don. She brushed his hair away from his neck and massaged his shoulders.

It became difficult to breath. Rapture tried to concentrate on Athian, but she ended up straining to watch the witch and Don out of the corner of her eyes.

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.

# Chapter 33

Obsession

Rapture dropped her jaw in shock. "What! She changed clothes in front of you?"

"No!" Visor said, "She morphed. She just changed suddenly."

"I know. I'm just kidding." Rapture pulled him to the edge of the bed and sat down. She hung her wrists on his shoulders and looked into his eyes. "Would you like it if she changed in front of you?"

"I don't know. She's not really my type—kind of distant ... not real. And you know, older."

"But she's still pretty, right?" Rapture untied her dress straps.

"In a way, I suppose. She's fit for her age, anyway—perky."

Rapture loosened her top. "What would you do if she did change in front of you?"

"Let her, I guess."

Rapture pushed down her dress. "What would you do to her? I mean if nothing were stopping you." She grabbed and positioned his hands. "Would you do this?"

"I might."

Rapture lay back, stroking his arms. "What else?"

Visor put one knee on the bed and leaned over Rapture. She had applied a flower perfume to her neck. He said, "I should tell you that I think she sees and hears everything that goes on in the tower."

"Then let her enjoy this."

Later, Visor awoke to the sound of a door's shutting. His eyes were blurry, having been in a heavy sleep. He identified Sorana by her footsteps before he could spot her silky blue nightgown.

Sorana sat at the foot of the bed between himself and Rapture. She leaned her head forward and began to sob quietly.

Rapture sat up and comforted her. The two whispered.

A fog rolled over Visor's mind. All thoughts and worries faded. He scooted up behind Sorana. He ran his hands up her back, over her shoulders and down her forearms. He pinned her Sorana's behind her and pulled her hair.

Together, he and Rapture repositioned the smaller half-vardal.

Sometime later, a knock on the door awoke Visor.

Visor's arm and leg were draped across Sorana.

Her amber eyes were wide with alarm.

Rapture laid facing away from them, still sleeping.

Mercy called through the door. "Visor. Rapture."

Rapture mumbled something.

Visor said, "We're not up quite yet."

Mercy's voice was muffled. "I am sorry to wake you early. We need to have a special planning session."

Visor pulled the sheet up over Sorana's head. That pulled it partially off of Rapture, who groaned and weakly groped for the sheet in a dreamy haze. Visor said, "Mercy, I can't hear you through the door."

Mercy cracked the door. "I have received word on the location of the Catalyst. You will need to leave soon."

"The Catalyst? Where?" Visor slid his hand down Sorana's back.

"Eurydice. Please meet me in the map room when prepared. I will provide a briefing and assist you with preparations."

Rapture still hadn't opened her eyes. "And I was just starting to like it here."

Visor loosened a knot in a silky nightgown.

Mercy closed the door.

Sorana rubbed her wrists. She crawled across Visor and hopped out of bed, full of energy. "I'll see you downstairs." She fluidly slipped on her gown while walking and talking.

Visor and Rapture lay silent for a few moments.

Visor spoke first. "What happened?"

Rapture shook her head slowly. "I don't know, Don."

"I wasn't going to, like we said."

"I know. Me neither."

"I was trying to sleep. You woke me up. And then it was like ... I lost all control."

"I wasn't even thinking—just acting."

"As if I were being controlled."

A pained look covered Rapture's face. "Not controlled—compelled. Oh Heiliger Mond, Don! I'm so sorry."

Visor rolled over and touched her gently. "No, Mi Ardore. I don't mean to blame you."

"But it _is_ me. I'm bound to her!"

Visor searched for words. "I didn't even know that could happen."

"Me neither." Rapture put a hand on her forehead. "I've never heard of it."

Visor got up and started dressing. "I wonder if you are different. Maybe that's why Lara kicked you out."

"She didn't, Don. I chose you."

"Well, she technically gave you a choice. But, come on, like you could ever choose to break a binding."

"You think she knew I would choose you?"

Visor pulled on some tights. "I don't know. But I just don't see a siren choosing a location over a binding. The chemistry makes the choice for you."

"But what sense does that make? The binding is temporary."

"Is it?"

"You think she kicked me out because my binding is ... more powerful? It lasts forever—or at least longer. And can affect girls."

"Could be. Say your binding affect girls, so it prevents budding in Xandria, and she thinks it's contagious. Or even if it's not contagious, say it is genetic, and if you reproduce, then that causes an issue with all of Xandria. Who knows." Visor picked up Rapture's bodice and held it near her. "Hey, get up."

She reached for it, but he backed away. She threw the covers back and dramatically stumbled out of bed.

"Though there is another thought."

"Hmmm?" She sounded sleepy.

"Being exiled, you are free to defend yourself by any means. There is no repercussion for using your sonic attack."

"Yeah, except for being called a banshee." She snatched the clothing out of his hand.

"So some stigma from sirens, but you are already banished from Xandria. Other races don't care about the Fracture rules—those that even know about the Fracture. You have numerous friends and a title to human lands. Even if our binding doesn't last forever, you can make a life for yourself without Xandria. The difference now is that you can defend yourself however you need to. She knew you had a dangerous journey ahead of you." Visor picked out some extra clothes from the wardrobe and packed them in a satchel. "Why would she let me tour Xandria? She was judging us."

"Judging us?" Rapture was still trying to arrange undergarments. "And you think we passed?"

Visor held his hands far apart. "Not us." He clamped his hands together. " _Us._ I don't understand how or why, but she was judging our binding, or at least our behavior together. Seven years is unheard of." He resumed packing. "I was wondering, is it normal for her to state the consequences of not complying with the judgment?"

"What do you mean?"

"She specifically said that if you didn't submit to the Fracture, you would be excommunicated. Is that normal? Because in human courts, the judge would just state the sentence. The assumption is that you have to comply. Then if you don't comply, they deal with that separately."

"I don't know. I guess not."

"It's like she was leading your choice. And you have Burke for protection, too. How are you communicating with him? Did the vardal do something to you to cause that?"

"Why don't you ask Mercy? She knows everything."

"Why don't you quit lollygagging? Do you want me to pick out your clothes? Because I will. Let's see, red and yellow go together, right, with horizontal stripes?"

Rapture gasped dramatically. "Noooo!"

# Chapter 34

The Mission

"Please eat your fill. Your coming journey will likely be arduous." The Blade of Mercy was seated on the floor of the map room. Holographic candles in the windowless room made a strange ambiance for breakfast. Mercy stood before them. "I have received information that the Catalyst is in Eurydice, in the furthest reaches of Esselin, in the land of Issore. This information was provided by an employee of mine code-named Amaranthine. I need you to rendezvous with Amaranthine and use whatever information he has to retrieve the Catalyst."

Athian said, "Amaranthine ... I've heard that before ... in a song, or story."

Mercy said, "Amaranth is an exonym for WaterCrescent."

"And an exonym is?"

"A non-local designation of nomenclature. Amaranth is the Vardal name for the fortress of Augusta. Since Vardal is not spoken by the denizens of Augusta, it is an exonym. Since human is spoken in Augusta, 'WaterCrescent' is considered the endonym. Vardal will call someone from WaterCrescent an Amaranthine."

Rapture said, "That's a flower, too."

Mercy said, "The flower would be 'Amaranth'. Amaranthine is an adjective referring to qualities of the Amaranth: Beautiful, purple, and colloquially ageless."

Rapture narrowed her eyes. "That's what I said."

"I apologize. I thought 'that' referred the most proximate term. Clearly, my verbal skills are out of practice."

Rapture pursed her lips.

Visor said, "Wait—Amaranthine is a 'he'?"

Mercy said, "That's correct. A vardal male."

Athian asked, "So, what's wrong with that?"

Visor said, "Oh nothing. Just, you know, 'beautiful and purple'?"

Athian said, "It's not literal."

"I know, but even not non-literally, beautiful?"

"It's just a name."

"Sure, but why not Raykez? Or, I don't know, Butch?"

"Why not Amaranthine?"

"I don't know, just seems like something you'd call a siren with purple hair."

"Does that make you feel threatened? You realize you are an Amaranthine?"

"Well, vardal might call me that, and if they mean it as the beautiful definition, I might even be flattered. But I wouldn't choose to be called Amaranthine."

Mercy said, "I selected his code name."

Visor said, "Ah, well that makes sense."

Athian asked, "What, because she's a woman?"

"Sure."

"It doesn't matter who selected it. The point is that it's fine."

"I'm not saying it isn't fine. I'm just saying choosing would be, you know ..."

Rapture smacked his arm. "Oh, I guess you'd choose Jasmine!" She stomped off to a corner.

What just happened? Visor turned back to Mercy. "Would Amaranthine, the person, have training like Sorana's, or more like mine?"

Mercy said, "The vardal male in question is an intelligence operative. He is trained neither in extraction nor in dynamic cooperative governance. I would describe the aforementioned warden's function as divergent from both of yours."

Visor said, "You can say 'Amaranthine'."

"Excuse me?"

"I didn't mean to criticize."

Athian said, "Yes, you did. That's exactly what you meant."

Visor said, "Yeah, but not really. I was just kidding. Anyway, I don't mean to distract. I just wasn't aware of the functions of your other wardens."

Mercy said, "I have a number of different assignments for my wardens. I will enumerate them for you if you like."

Visor said, "Not necessary right now."

Athian asked, "Are they 'enhanced'?"

Mercy said, "My employees are often exceptional biological specimens, well-trained and equipped with superior weaponry."

Athian said, "Visor said that Maciate's agents were cyborgs."

"Catalyst agents are cyborgs. Mine are not. And that is why they are equipped with weapons designed to destroy cyborg enhancements."

"Then you don't have the same technology as Maciate?"

"I don't. Why do you ask?"

Athian said, "I was just wondering—making sure we had all the relevant information." Athian exchanged looks with Visor.

Visor gestured for Athian to drop it. Mercy was not intentionally withholding information.

Mercy said, "The library has more information on the subject. I would like to begin the briefing before we lose the ability to focus."

Visor said, "Sure, go ahead."

A wall screen generated holographic map of Esselin. It featured relief terrain. Skarholt forest was a greenish blur in the southeast section of Esselin. Eurydice, near the west coast, was highlighted in high saturation.

Mercy gestured at Jortal. "The most direct route to Eurydice would take you a thousand miles across the open tundra of Jortal. You would be exposed to harsh, frozen terrain and be open to attacks from various ogre tribes. Skirting Jortal to the north would be a much longer journey and require you to traverse mountains. Skirting south would bring you through the heart of buway civilization and force you to pass over vardal underground cities, including Bell Font.

"Therefore, I would suggest you travel to Raykez and take water transport from there. I will supply you with sufficient funds to acquire a vessel. From there, you could follow the coast of Esselin to vardal territory, limiting your land exposure.

Athian said, "Rap, you're a druid. Can't you find us some giant birds to ride?"

"It doesn't work like that."

"Your first objective is to meet with Amaranthine." As Mercy spoke, the map zoomed in to a lake surrounded by a forest in the northwest quadrant of Esselin. A stream flowed westward from it. The holographic map followed the stream, simulating the view point of a bird flying at tremendous speed. The stream was strengthened by a dozen tributaries as it meandered through the trees. By the time it broke the forest, the river was large enough for a canoe with an outrigger to navigate.

Mercy continued. "This is the Tarkenelran River, colloquially known as the River of Sin. The path it takes is prolonged, and is home to multiple vardal communities." The river meandered back and forth, forming lakes at wide points then continuing. Some groups of structures were located around the lakes. The bird's eye view slowed after one lake community. "This is Amaranthine's extraction point."

"Eurydice is underground, as are most vardal cities. The limited entrances are easy to guard. You will have to bribe, fight, or stealth your way in. The Tarkenelran is a source of potable water for Eurydice, and as such, provides a possible means of ingress." The holographic viewpoint dove into the river, showing an underwater view of bubbly and suspended sediment. Everything became dark. The viewpoint later emerged from a pond in an underground cavern.

"Once in the city, you will be at a disadvantage in encounters against vardal and vampires. The city is poorly illuminated by human standards. Sirens will be effectively blind without an additional light source. I will provide you with what equipment I can to increase your chances of success. My information is limited. This mission will require significant field ingenuity." She looked at Visor. "That is why I hired you. Please pack and meet in the stable when ready. I will prepare your mounts."

# Chapter 35

Weapons of Mercy

Visor was the first traveler to the stable. His horse had been groomed and tended. The saddle and bags were neatly strapped. He stroked its muzzle as Mercy approached.

Mercy said, "I made the presumption that my daughter will be joining you."

Visor said, "Of course. We need her. I don't expect that we'll be able to talk our way all the way to the Catalyst and back."

"She is more effective than any other warden I have."

"I gathered as much."

"Visor, I want you to know that I am quite relieved by your acceptance of my daughter. Many find her mannerism difficult to suffer. That you and Rapture have befriended her is heart-warming. I do hope that in the end, you will prove to be the man of kindness you appear to be. When the time comes that you choose to part ways, I hope you'll remember she is particularly vulnerable, and present things in such a way that she does not suffer needlessly."

Visor said, "I, well I—we didn't have in mind to—"

"Not that. I have come to grips with letting go. She is not a child any more. However, I would express particular concern knowing that you will be visiting Raykez shortly. Many pitfalls await her there. There are those who will ascribe much hostility to her simply for her appearance, and her limited social skills will prove a liability."

Visor said, "I don't expect her to negotiate anything. I'll do the talking. She can do what she's comfortable doing."

Mercy clasped her hands around one of his. "That is all I ask."

"Mercy, know that I will watch over her. If the time ever comes that we need to part ways, I will do what is within my ability to give her a good direction."

She moved a half step closer and rested her hands and his on her bosom. "Thank you."

Talk about limited social skills.

Athian and Rapture walked in, of course.

Mercy called them over.

With the Blade assembled in a semi-circle around her, Mercy said, "Know that each of you is a welcome guest, and that you may return as you will. I have packed your mounts with gear for your journey—rations, clothing, and weapons. Each of you will find a supply of gems and coins in your purse. There are specific items I would like to discuss in further detail. Visor, I have forged a replacement bow for you." Mercy nodded at some metallic shapes hanging nearby on a support beam.

There was a complicated but short riser that had pulleys attached to the ends. There were also guards for the chest, wrist and hand, as well as a V-shaped piece that splayed out from the base. Visor picked up the riser. It was lighter than he expected, and cool to the touch. It had a single string that crossed over itself and looped over some pulleys at the ends of the bow. Overall, it was at least a foot shorter than his old recurve bow, which had flexible wooden limbs instead of pulleys. This one was silvery like symphonic metal, but not quite as lustrous. "This isn't symphonic metal."

Mercy said, "It is not. It is a precipitation hardened aluminum-zinc alloy."

"How do you, you know, use it?"

Mercy said, "Knock the arrow on the rear string. Find and use the pre-set notch loop. Aim. Look through the sight." Mercy gestured at a straw bundle. "Draw the string. Release."

Visor followed her instructions. "It hardly took effort. The bow didn't bend at all." Visor spun it around in his hand. "It's so small."

Mercy said, "The size is not important. The effectiveness comes from design and technique."

Athian said, "So they say".

Mercy pointed out systems as she described them. "The power is derived from the cam rotation. You can shift the cams to modify the pull weight. The draw length is adjusted by this screw. I preset the pull weight and draw length to match your specific proportions."

Rapture guffawed.

Mercy said, "The string includes a back side loop. This is for attachment of a mechanical release, one of which is built into the hand guard, here."

Visor donned the hand guard.

Mercy pointed at the V-shape. "This gel-filled stabilizer minimizes vibration." She touched a cylinder. "The sight has multiple range locators, which you will learn to use effectively with experience. This switch turns on a light multiplying function. This will allow you to see in low light situations. If the illumination fades, it can be recharged by intimate contact with an active conjoin.

"The arrow shafts are an aluminum alloy with low-tolerance threading. Different heads may be attached. The field point heads may be replaced with broad head or broad blade analogs. Operated properly, this system will propel flight arrows in excess of two hundred miles per hour, minimizing wind effects. I provided you with an arrow puller, as these shafts and broad blade heads are significantly superior to alternatives. Further, your ammunition packs include an assortment of special-ordinance heads that are only usable once—concussive, tracer, self-oxidizing incendiary, cyborg-neutralizing, and armor-piercing, both kinetic and shaped-charge varieties. The weight of these heads limits their range. So that you can find the range, an adjustable dummy special-ordinance head is included in your pack."

"Are they labeled?"

"You will find a detailed instruction manual in your possessions."

Visor strummed the string. "This isn't cat gut or hemp."

Mercy said, "The string is a composite polymer."

"I don't have to wax it?"

"A protective layer is not required. You may get it wet without fear of swelling."

Visor hooked a pin of the mechanical release through the string's back loop. He took a stance and fired the arrow. The motion of squeezing the mechanical release instead of opening his fingers to release the arrow made keeping his stance more natural. The reduced pull weight along with the stabilizer allowed him to maintain a near-perfect profile. "This is almost cheating."

Rapture said, "Yeah, almost."

"What is that?" Athian was pointing at a suit of full plate armor. It was spaced out on its support rack so that you could see it was sized for an ogre, albeit an unusually athletic ogre. Spikes were attached to the outer arm plates.

There were lights flashing inside of it. Cespenar poked his head out.

Mercy said, "It is a derivative of conventional fuel-cell powered heavy tactical assault armor with environmental suit internals. Your pixie should be careful as some of the spikes might still have active toxin injectors. I believe the fuel cell has been deactivated. The electrode-enhanced spikes should not be hot."

Athian said, "Nah, it's okay. Pixies are a dime a dozen. It looks heavy."

Mercy said, "I'm sorry. I don't understand."

"The armor—it looks heavy."

"It isn't as heavy as it appears, due to its composite layering. While the harmonic metal does provide some protection, it is largely cosmetic and functions to protect the under layers from incidental abrasion. A ceramic mid-layer is integrated between the harmonic metal alloy that you see and an undercoat of para-aramid fiber. The ceramic layer provides counter-ordnance protection against armor-piercing projectiles. The fiber provides additional protection against fragmenting ammunition, protecting the gel skin-suit."

"Gel? Would that get sticky?"

"The gel is contained within semi-permeable cellular packs. Among other functions, it can regulate body temperature, harden for impact distribution, alter buoyancy, and release anesthetic and coagulant into wounds. A reversible polarizing function provides additional protection against energy weapons."

"It does everything but light up."

"Lighting isn't required because the helm is fitted with optical enhancers similar to the bow's sight. It also provides respiratory filtration and limited independent air supply." Mercy held up her forearms so that her sleeves slid back to reveal a set of metallic bracers. The bracers appeared to be symphonic metal. They were covered by brass-colored lettering and etchings of humanoids in a forest. The decoration of one was dominated by a blue sapphire surrounded by a ring of smaller diamonds and other gemstones. Overlaying the diamonds was a fine lattice work of gold and platinum. She removed the sapphire-laden bracer and proffered it to Rapture. "The metal is designed to collect and store Loadstone energy. It will amplify the conjoin effect of the wearer—your healing."

Rapture took it. "Oh my ... thank you." Rapture donned the bracer. As she stroked the sapphire, her expression changed. "It's an azure moon!"

Athian asked, "Azure moon?"

Rapture said, "An azure moon—the moon reflected in water. It is what guided the sirens to Xandria in the flight from the banshee."

Athian said, "I heard some stories about that, when the sirens fought the banshee."

Rapture said, "It was the Nymph Fracture. Sirens are not originally from Xandria. We had a home before, Wacken. We were one race with the banshee—the race of nymphs. We lived in harmony with the satyrs. They would play instruments while we would dance and sing. The relationship soured. At some point, the satyrs took a nymph princess hostage. That sparked a war. In those days, the nymph voice was much more powerful. It could blow up rocks and call the dawn. At least that's what the stories say.

"The nymphs destroyed the satyrs. After the war, we couldn't agree what to do. There was a ban on sonic attacks, but some didn't like the ban. The nymph society fractured over whether we should live with war or peace. Those who believed in war became the banshee. The rest of us became the sirens. The sirens were driven out of Wacken. The banshee pursued us. They thought they'd be stronger without us."

Rapture slipped on the other bracer. "The sirens were on the run for months, led by Tempest. The story goes that Tempest would sing over pools and her falling tears would make shapes in the water. The ripples of her tears around the moon's reflection would tell her which stars to follow. This is where it gets a little silly. Her tears pooled and froze, forming a sapphire. Legend has it that the Trail of Sapphires could lead you back to Wacken."

Visor said, "Sirenic tears have a blue tint. They can look like a sapphire when frozen."

"When the sirens reached the caves of the Xandria peninsula, Tempest stopped receiving guidance from the Azure Moon. The sirens decided to make a stand. They made their peace with nature and waited for the banshee attack, but it never came. On the tenth day of the seventh month of flight, the sirens founded their new home as Xandria.

"It was later learned that the banshee stopped budding when they first turned on the sirens. That is why the banshee eventually gave up their chase and ultimately died out. It was the use of the sonic attack to kill other nymphs that cursed the banshee so that they could not bud. Using a sonic attack is a crime against nature—well, if it's a sentient creature, especially a nymph."

Visor asked, "What about humans?"

"I guess it depends on the human, and what he's doing at the time." Rapture held up her wrist and studied the sapphire. "The constellations that guided Tempest are represented by the gold designs over the twelve types of gemstones."

Mercy said, "That is essentially correct. The constellations are—"

Rapture's eyes narrowed. "Essentially?"

"I thought it was some kind of award!" Visor pressed his body against Rapture, stroking her rear and tummy.

Rapture calmed down. "The azure moon is sometimes awarded for exceptional service, but only by the druid assembly. I am excommunicated. That can never happen." Rapture inquisitively studied the sapphire. She caressed it. "It is responding to my words, lighting up."

Mercy said, "Yes, dearest siren. While you will likely never be awarded an azure moon in Xandria, you may be interested to know the unique history of this jewelry. It is not a naturally formed mineral. The sapphire was formed under controlled conditions to house the biological core. The crystal contains Lichtrinker, creatures too small for sirens and humans to see individually. Lichtrinker recognize a nymph's signature sound waves and can respond by releasing an electro-magnetic pulse.

"In Wacken, Lichtrinker permeated everything, even living creatures. Research reveals that a nymph in perfect harmony with Lichtrinker could use her voice to level mountains, spawn lighting, or even command hearts to cease beating. That was before the Fracture. Sirens fled Wacken and Lichtrinker were left behind. Lichtrinker require nymph interaction to survive. If the banshee truly died out, it follows that Lichtrinker did as well.

"This clonal colony has survived in a dormant state, suspended in a collection of nymph tears. As this colony becomes tuned to your voice, it will magnify the effectiveness of your healing.

"I should also mention that as this is the only colony of Lichtrinker known to exist, its value is beyond measure. By extension, it is also valuable to those who would wish you harm. Therefore, you should keep it secret as much as practically possible. I now present it to you, sirenic heroine, for services to be rendered."

# Chapter 36

Skarholt

Visor halted his horse and focused into the distance. "That's a lot of smoke."

"That doesn't look controlled. It's a wild fire." Athian squinted. "Are we going to get caught in that?"

Cespenar, perched on Athian's shoulder, leaned forward and shielded his eyes. "Ooooh."

Visor said, "It looks pretty far south, but if our path turns and the wind blows the wrong way, it could be a problem."

"Should we start heading back?" Athian looked backwards to the east. The girls rode a ways behind. "We've got to be half way through Skarholt by now."

Visor said, "If we go back, then we still have to skirt the forest. Then we either risk ogre encounters or have to go the long way around. We came straight through to save time." Visor addressed Cespenar. "We need to get a better view of how the fire is moving."

Cespenar saluted and flew off toward the smoke column.

Visor said, "The trees are green. The brush is still moist from dew. The fire should move slowly. We can continue at a walk while we wait for Pixie. If it gets worse, we could always run back. What is that?"

Athian plucked some tunes on his lute. "It's a gift from Mercy. I don't know what it's made of, but is has a sexy sound." He played a few more notes, testing the string tautness. He transitioned into a few short riffs.

The girls neared and Rapture joined in with some vocal harmonic riffs. They played back and forth a bit and then settled together into last movement of Blue Lake. It was an instrumental, and Rapture's voice was the finer instrument.

Visor said, "Nice harmonic variation, Rap."

Rapture giggled and sang the main riff again. "You wrote it."

Visor said, "Well, a version, anyway."

Rapture said, "The original version. The school just copied it from you."

Sorana asked, "What is 'harmonic'?"

Rapture said, "They're notes that sound good together."

Visor said, "They are notes that have a coincident frequency."

Everyone looked at Visor.

Visor made a wave motion with his hand. "When notes have sound waves that reach zero amplitude—okay ... sound. When I speak, my throat restricts the movement of air out of my lungs in such a way as to create waves of air. Our voice boxes vibrate very quickly, so these waves of air are small. The waves travel through the air from to your ears. Your ears feel these waves and relay the wave patterns to your brain. Your brain interprets the patterns into sound.

"We can think of waves in the air like waves in the ocean." Visor traced an imaginary series of waves with his hand. "If you measure from the very top of one wave to its bottom, you have the amplitude. If you measure from where a wave starts to where the next one starts, you have the frequency.

"Now, if I have a second wave that is exactly half as long as the first, and they start at the same time, then every time the longer wave starts over, the shorter note is starting over, too. These two waves are in harmony."

Rapture said, "So, you're saying they're notes that sound good together?"

Visor said, "Well, yes. What did they teach at Pimont's?"

Rapture said, "It's Peadmont's. And we pretty much memorized the notes in sets. I remember that octaves are harmonics—I mean the same notes in each octave, whatever. Where did you learn about the sound waves?"

Visor shrugged. "I don't know. I read it somewhere, I think."

Rapture said, "Ah, so Mercy. I see."

Athian said, "I want to try something." He sang a note, then tried a higher note, but couldn't hold it. "Rap, can you hold this?" He played a note on his lute.

Rapture held the pitch.

He turned to Sorana. "Can you match Rap?"

Sorana did.

Athian said, "Okay, Rap, find the next Harmonic up."

Rapture sung a higher note.

Athian said, "That's the next octave. There's a harmonic in between. See if you can find that."

Rapture hit a note that combined with Sorana's note to grate on the ears.

Athian said, "Ouch."

Visor said, "And that is dissonance."

Rapture laughed.

Sorana restarted her note, and Rapture found the harmonic above.

Athian plucked the next harmonic up. Then, with an exaggerated nod, he started the main part of Blue Lake.

The trio sang through the riff repeatedly, finding different harmonies on successive run-throughs. Visor conducted, and soon had the trio singing in rounds.

Sorana sang a high, pinched-off note.

Rapture said, "Oh, sweetie, you shouldn't do that."

Athian said, "It sounded on pitch."  
Rapture shook her head. "Yeah, but it's her whistle register. It's a bad habit. It can damage your voice. Most humans—and I guess vardal—shouldn't sing beyond this." She let out a quick trill between two high notes.

Sorana asked, "Can you heal it?"

Rapture said, "No, but don't worry. It only happens if you do it a lot."

Visor said, "It's not actually damage like a wound—just a learned physiological response."

Athian said, "Sorana, wasn't your mom making you some new armor."

"No."

Athian said, "You were in some light chain—oh, I guess that was Rapture's."

Rapture asked, "Why were you wearing mine?"

Sorana said, "It was made for a vardal. Mother was fitting it to you. And making the leggings."

"Oh, really!" Rapture tugged at the skin-hugging fabric at the widest part of her thigh, up under the leather skirt.

Athian said, "It really does look nice, Rap."

Sorana said, "I was just trying it on so mom had a model. Then she let it out."

Visor said, "Oh, crap."

Rapture said, "Well, that—"

Athian said, "It looks like she added some color as well—the dark outline with a brighter interior."

Sorana said, "It's an optical effect to make her appear a smaller target in low light."

Rapture said, "Oh, mein Mond! That freaking witch! You know, I can just—" She tugged at her armor, trying to remove it. Her mount started forward.

Visor pulled up beside her. "Look, I'm sure she just meant—I mean, Sorana _is_ unusually lean, and she is half-vardal."

Rapture blubbered something nonsensical.

Visor said, "You know you have the best body of any siren, and most situations—what?"

Rapture had halted her horse. She was staring straight ahead. Her face went pale.

Visor looked ahead. "Whoa!"

# Chapter 37

Troll

The creature was roughly human shaped, but eight feet tall with elongated arms and fingers that ended in claws. The rough, thick skin was covered with patches of greenish, moss-like fur. Its elongated nose protruded beyond two tusks. It matched the description of a troll, but trolls were extinct. Whatever it was seemed surprised, but not alarmed.

Visor reached over to Rapture's mount tugged its reigns. "Just head back and—"

The troll howled and charged.

Visor's mount reared, lost its footing, and fell.

Rapture, with the better-trained mount, retained control. She made a full turn and started moving, but the troll reached her before her horse accelerated.

The troll's claw dug into the horse's hindquarters, causing the horse to whiney and swerve. The other claw caught the back of Rapture's saddle.

Rapture cried out.

The troll held on, getting pulled off his feet.

Rapture's horse struggled to remain upright.

Visor managed to get his leg out from under the horse before it fell, but his foot was caught up in his stirrup. His mount was not moving. He grabbed Mercy's bow, Ninette, and took a kneeling position. He knocked an arrow.

Rapture's mount fell and the troll regained its balance.

Visor loosed the arrow, striking the troll upper rear thigh. The arrow sunk deep.

The troll paused and looked at him, but seemed to be in relatively little pain. It pulled the arrow out with a grunt.

Athian ran in. He pointed a sword awkwardly at the troll and said, "Back off, you vile thing!"

The troll swatted Athian's sword arm aside and gripped his chest with the other clawed hand. With little effort, he picked Athian up.

Visor sunk an arrow into the troll's ribs.

Athian recovered himself enough to stab the troll's shoulder, and his sword stuck there.

More angry than hurt, the troll dropped Athian to the ground and knocked the sword out of his shoulder. The troll stomped its way toward Visor.

Visor managed to work himself free of the stirrup. He stood to run, but realized his ankle was badly sprained or strained, if not fractured. It matted little anyway, as two more trolls approached from behind. He fell back to one knee.

The troll towered over him.

Visor held up Ninette to deflect an incoming blow.

A horse ran down the troll from behind.

The troll flopped to the ground.

Mystique trampled the troll and continued running.

Sorana launched herself from the saddle, landing on the troll's back. She made some efficient cuts into the troll's shoulder blades and neck. She pranced off to meet the other two trolls.

Visor drug himself toward Rapture and Athian, clenching his jaw against the pain. He held his sprained ankle off the ground, using the bow in concert with his good leg to lift and push himself.

Rapture was moving, thankfully. Her clothing was ripped in streaks across her shoulder and ribs. There was some blood—not a lot. The harmonic armor prevented worse injury. She was pinned under her horse.

"Rap!"

"Don!" She reached toward him. "I'm stuck!"

"I'll get there!" Visor clawed his way past Athian to Rapture. Athian wasn't moving.

Rapture closed her eyes and infused Visor with her healing energy. The warmth of her touch flowed into his body, relieving the pain in his ankle. He was soon able to stand again. "Rap, this is amazing—how?"

"I don't know, Don." She studied her hands. "Ever since the AciesMagus, it just gets stronger. The bracers do it too, I think."

Visor gave Rapture's dead horse a half-hearted shove. "I'm going to need help for this. Athian!"

Athian was still alive but wheezing, and bleeding heavily from his chest.

Visor gripped Athian's shoulders and dragged him over to Rapture.

Rapture showed significant fatigue as she healed Athian.

"That's enough for now." Visor addressed Athian. "I don't mean that—"

Athian held up a hand, "I know, Visor. Let her rest. I'll survive."

"Risse der Mond!" Rapture's horrified gaze was focused past Visor.

Visor looked behind him.

The felled troll was struggling to stand. Its reduced use of its arms was apparent as it rolled back onto its side. The troll was regaining strength with the passing seconds.

Visor straddled Rapture's legs and lifted the horse with all his strength. "Get her out."

Athian knelt behind Rapture and wrapped his arms around her. He clasped his wrist over her chest and pulled until she wheezed.

Visor grunted and let go. He needed leverage. He looked around for a pry bar and fulcrum. There weren't good stones around, but perhaps a pile of thicker branches would work.

Athian said, "Banshee Mortel!"

The troll was now standing. It was unsuccessfully trying to flex its right hand. Its left arm dangled uselessly. Visor pointed at a spot between Rapture and the troll. "Athian!"

"Got it!" Athian picked up his sword and moved to protect Rapture.

Visor scrambled to gather thick sticks to use as the fulcrum. What would really matter was finding the right pry bar. A sword would snap on the broad side and be unstable on the thin side. Ninette might be strong enough, though he really needed something longer for more leverage. Maybe they could just cut through the horse. There was a lot of meat to cut, though, and it would have to be done with some care to avoid injury to Rapture. That would take time. It was obvious the troll was regenerating, but he might be able to damage it with arrows faster than it could regenerate. He could keep it weakened while Athian worked Rapture free. But one of Ninette's cams was caked in mud from having been used as a crutch—he'd have to clean that out. Visor returned to the horse and arranged the branches next to Rapture.

"Don!" said Rapture.

The troll closed on Athian.

Visor reached up Rapture's skirt and grabbed the melodic dagger. He took up position beside Athian, dagger in one hand and Ninette in the other.

There was a growl and flash of white fur. Using Rapture's dead horse for a launching pad, Burke pounced at the troll. The snow leopard had grown. At nearly a hundred pounds, it almost knocked the troll down. As it was, Burke sunk his claws into the troll's chest and left shoulder, trying to clamp his jaws on the troll's neck.

Adrenaline was masking the pain of Visor's still-tender ankle. He maneuvered behind the troll. Maybe he could find a more vulnerable area. Perhaps they could find a way to trip it. If they could get it on the ground again, they could hack it to bits.

The troll caught Burke under the belly with a tusk. Burke yelped but continued his ferocious attack. The troll grabbed Burke with his now-recovered right hand and squeezed. He pealed the cat off and threw it.

Burke landed with a pathetic cry.

With Burke's distraction, Athian was able to sink the sword deep into the troll's gut. That did hurt it. It wailed and doubled over.

Visor took the opportunity to plunge the dagger into the troll's spine. Any other creature would have been paralyzed.

The troll wasn't paralyzed, but it did fall—onto Athian. And it still fought.

Athian cried out. He fended off the troll's tusks with his forearms.

Visor jumped on the monster. He pulled his dagger out of its spine and sank it into its already-wounded right shoulder. He could see where some goo had filled in and begun to solidify. Visor hacked at the shoulder until it hung loose. He and Athian were then able to remove the near-helpless troll's head.

It was dead.

Athian was bloody. He'd been gouged in the ear and had some other wounds. Visor helped him up and over to Rapture.

There was a growl behind him. Visor turned and saw another troll. This one was larger, wielded a spiked club, and had two heads. Visor prodded Athian backward. "Go to Rap. Get her free."

Visor looked around. This larger troll might have trouble running through trees. Maybe it could be lured away from Rapture long enough for her to escape. Maybe he could find a pit or tight trees to trap it in.

The troll closed in.

Visor was about to bolt when the troll howled and fell to a knee. Its foot had been nearly sheared off at the ankle. It turned and swung its club blindly.

Sorana easily ducked under the club.

The troll tried to rake her with its off hand.

She met his attack with a punch of her left. Her serrated dagger protruded through the troll's wrist. She twisted and pulled her dagger.

The troll smashed the club down at her. She sidestepped the attack and stomped on the club, smashing the troll's hand.

The troll wasn't hurt, and lifted the club—with Sorana still on it.

She smacked the troll in one of its heads with her rod's end bulb, then flipped off backwards to land just out of the troll's reach. She held a bloody tusk that ended with a chunk of bloody meat. She tossed it aside.

The troll wailed and stumbled after her.

She methodically backed away from it and surveyed her surroundings. She signed, _tend to_ and said, "Rapture!" She said, "Twenty" and signed, _seconds to finish this._

Visor went to tend to Rapture.

## ***************

"I thought trolls were extinct." Rapture was so pretty riding her rhinoceros.

Visor couldn't help but smile. "They were, at least as far as we knew."

Athian rode behind Rapture, resting his hands gently on her hips. "Maybe the fires flushed them out. They could have been living deep in the forest where no one would see them."

Visor said, "I thought they were subterranean. Who knows—maybe they were hibernating. With that regenerating biology, who knows how they live or reproduce?"

Athian asked, "However they reproduce, it's amazing they haven't overrun the world."

Visor asked, "You mean because they are so tough?"

Athian said, "Well, yeah. What would be able to kill them? I mean, Sorana is a fr—" He looked ahead at Sorana, riding point. He spoke quietly. "She's exceptional. But your arrows hardly hurt it. Even the alfanar would have trouble."

Visor said, "Unless their arrows were poisoned with something that would stop the regeneration."

Cespenar rode on Athian's back pack. "Maybe a Banshee."

"By stopping their heart?" Visor said, "I don't think they can really do that. And I don't think trolls have vital organs as we think of them. You saw how they kind of oozed rather than bleeding. The lack of pain receptors would make me think they don't have vital areas."

Athian said, "They have to have brains."

Visor said, "But even that could be distributed throughout his body. "

Rapture said, "It seemed pretty dumb to me."

Visor said, "The metabolism it would take for that kind of regeneration might preclude developed brains. They must eat constantly just to support that crazy metabolism. They probably have limited systems for reasoning and reproduction."

Cespenar said, "Ewww."

Visor said, "There are some sea creatures that reproduce by breaking off pieces. The pieces grow into adults. Maybe the trolls are like that."

Athian said, "An ogre? He'd have the strength to knock it down."

Visor said, "And an ogre is faster—and would have further reach. Of course, that's assuming it was armed."

Rapture leaned down to speak in her rhino's ear. "Don't listen to them, Gebuhrman. The boys are busy talking about blood and guts."

Athian chuckled.

Cespenar screamed. "The weasel is going to eat me!"

Athian plucked Cespenar out of his backpack and held him out at arm's length. He pulled a furry creature off Rapture's shoulder and held him out in the other direction. "Do I have to keep you and the ferret separated?"

Rapture said, "Mongoose. Though I might name him 'Little Weasel'."

Visor said, "You do know we're just getting a boat to get to Eurydice, right? We don't necessarily need two of each animal."

Rapture said, "They have an animal reserve attached to the Siren Sanctuary. I'm sure they'll keep them."

Athian said, "If you collect any more animals, they're going to give you the druid title."

Rapture rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I need another title."

Athian said, "Would that make you Druid Godiva?"

Rapture said, "It's just 'Druid Rapture'. The strain name is just for council druids. Unless you don't know me personally, of course."

Athian said, "Ah, of course."

Visor said, "Your Grace, the Duchess of Augusta, Engel, Druid Natalia-a Rapture Godiva, Red Flame, daughter of Frigg?"

Rapture laughed. "I don't think it works that way."

Athian said, "I can't believe there's not a 'Lady' or 'Princess' in there somewhere."

Visor said, "Well, since we'll be in the Raykez anyway, she could stop by a knighthood and pick up 'Lady Protector'. Then we'd—"

Sorana made a short, high pitch call. She signed back to them.

Visor translated for the others. "There's a farmstead ... maybe four structures ... no visible movement from this distance. It sounds like suburban Raykez."

# Chapter 38

Sanctuary

Rapture looked over the Siren Sanctuary's zoo. "My rhinoceros will be fed and cared for?"

"Yes, Engel. The Sanctuary retains a full animal handling staff." The Knight of the Moon walked beside Rapture. He wore full plate armor and a great helm, covering all of his body. You wouldn't know just by looking whether or not there was actually a man inside the armor. It was well-kept, making surprisingly little noise as he walked. The base plate was painted white. There was some intricate silver etching and calligraphy. He stopped at the base of some steps and held out his arm for her. "They would be able to watch your cat as well."

Rapture took his arm. "Oh, Burke goes with me everywhere. He'll be good." Burke prowled behind the knight, sniffing the air and baring his teeth. There were lots of interesting smells on the breeze.

"As you wish, Engel."

They reached the Sanctuary's ante-chamber. Rapture's escort spoke to another knight. "The Engel is Rapture of WaterCrescent. She's wanting a consultation. Is Sister Vivian available?"

"I can go see." The second knight was a woman. Her armor was similar to the man's in style, though the detailing was unique. She left and returned moments later with a Violate strain siren.

Violates were perhaps half an inch taller than Xandrians, on average. Their hair was a slightly lighter brown than a marigold's. Their defining attributes were their full, soft faces and large, dark irises. Their bodies were curvier than Xandrians, but they were not as endowed as Godivas.

The sirens sampled each other's scent.

The Violate said, "I am Sister Vivian. Welcome to the Siren Sanctuary of Raykez." She addressed Rapture's escort. "Thank you."

Rapture withdrew her hand from her escort's arm. "Thank you."

He nodded. "Yes, Engels."

The female knight took Vivian and Rapture to a study.

The sirens sat and Rapture shared her recent experiences.

Vivian listened intently. When Rapture finished, Vivian took a slow sip of water before responding. "I understand why you are concerned. I don't mean there's anything wrong with it, but it's not usual for a siren in binding to feel jealousy. The first time you felt this was in the cell?"

"When I saw Sorana. But then it was always Mercy. Well no, the Marigold, then Mercy. Now only Mercy."

"I don't know. That shouldn't happen. And if your binding had expired, you would have gone your separate ways and you wouldn't care what Don does."

"Oh—other people call him 'Visor', as in 'advisor'. That was his job. Well, you can call him whatever. I was just saying, in case it was confusing."

"Oh, okay. Unfortunately, I can't tell you much more than you've already figured out on your own. We do keep a counselor on retainer. I will send for him. He's a human, but well-versed in sirenic psychology. There is also someone you can talk to about your experience in the AciesMagus. Sister Mary was detained there for a time. The Symphonic Knights were able to free her when the vardal tried to transport her back to Bell Font."

The knight said, "The Knights of the Moon were part of that operation, too."

"Well, Gwendolyn, right?"

"No, there were a few. I think Jason and another one, at least."

"Ah, okay." Vivian stood. "I have to get to the hospital wing. Perhaps Mary will be able to provide some insight for you."

The knight said, "I'll get Mary."

"She should be at the orphanage, unless she got called back to the hospice wing."

"I'll find her." The knight addressed Rapture. "It won't be too long. The orphanage is part of the Sanctuary. She's somewhere in the complex. Do you want some fresh water or anything?"

"That would be nice." Rapture was left alone with Burke, her companion and protector. She closed her eyes.

There was a gentle knock at the door. Rapture sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Yes."

The guard opened the door and announced Sister Mary. Mary was a Xandrian.

And she was pregnant.

## ***************

Visor sighed. "Yes, and I'm the one who brought the vampire to Krafer-West."

The clerk looked Visor up and down. His eyes grew big. "Oh! _That_ Visor ... the siren rescuer."

"And the vampire catcher."

The clerk's eyes drifted to Sorana, who was wearing her stretch hood and veil.

She wore gloves that stretched up her arm under her sleeves, effectively concealing her identity.

The clerk asked, "Is she a, uh ...?"

Visor said, "This is my assistant, Eulogy. She's hired as my tracker."

The clerk nodded slowly. "Okay ... okay. Let me get the sheriff. I'll be right back." He exited a rear door.

Sorana slid her hand up under Visor's leather armor. She wrote on his back in vardal-somatic. _He is hiding something._

"I know." Visor looked around the sheriff's front office. There was one deputy digging through a foot locker. The deputy paused and studied an object, dropped it, and continued digging.

A drunk sat with his feet up on the bench and his back against the wall. He held the palm of his hand against his forehead and took in deep, measured breaths.

Visor spoke in vardal. "Are we in danger?"

Sorana wrote, _Probably not._

The clerk returned. "Sherriff Kyle is out at the moment." He patted a key ring on his belt. "I can show you the cell. I'm Oliver, by the way."

Visor asked, "The cell? Not the vampire?"

"Yeah, that's the thing." Oliver opened another door in the rear of the Sherriff's office. He gestured for them to follow. "There was a jailbreak. It was—we've had them before, but this was like nothing we've ever seen." Oliver called to the deputy, "Could you watch the front?"

Oliver led them down a corridor and around a corner. A gate of iron bars separated the sheriff's office from the jail section. The iron bars around the lock were partially dissolved, so that the gate would not latch properly. A roughly cut leather strap served as a temporary latch, holding it loosely shut. There was a blackened spot in the concrete floor.

Visor knelt to study the spot.

Oliver said, "We haven't had a chance to get that all cleaned up yet. That's where we found Jalen, the deputy on duty that night. Though to say 'found' ..." Oliver exhaled emphatically. "There wasn't much left of him. Just a skeleton with some burned meat. Whoever did this somehow kept the fire contained. Nothing else is burned. We think he might have been burned somewhere else and dumped here."

Sorana signed only Visor could see. _Digestive acid._

"There doesn't seem to be any smoke stain, or embers." Visor followed Oliver down the hall. "What happened to the prisoners?"

Oliver opened the gate and allowed the Blade to pass. "Well, the vampire is gone, of course. Then there's old Harrison—says he didn't see anything. Slept through the whole thing." Oliver gestured toward an occupied cell.

A man sat inside. His arms were crossed, a clear declaration that he had nothing to say.

Oliver moved on to another cell. "Then there was another one here. I forgot what his registered name was, and what he was in for. Anyway, same thing as with Jalen."

Visor inspected the cell. Oliver was correct. The remains were similar to Jalen's. The cell's lock was partially dissolved and broken.

Oliver rounded a bend and stopped at another cell. "And here's the vampire's."

"Armaan."

"Your mom?"

"Armaan—his name. What happened to the lock? It looks like it has the same damage at the lock."

"Yeah, but on this one, the whole door is bent."

"Maybe someone used a tool for leverage."

"But if you look at it from this angle, you can tell it's all bent the same way. That's just a big creature."

Visor looked at the bars from a different angle. They were bent in the same direction. "Yeah, all of the pressure came from the same direction." There didn't seem to be the impact damage you'd expect from a hammer. "Are thinking an ogre?"

"Nah, probably the dragon?"

"The dragon?"

"Yeah, it's a sort of monster, kind of like a winged horse with big teeth."

"Yes, I've heard of dragons. I just wasn't aware they were commonplace in Raykez."

"Oh, no one told you about the witness?"

"No, we skipped that part."

"Yeah, a prisoner was still here the morning after the break. Rumor is that he saw a dragon, or the duelicorn."

"Okay, now 'duelicorn' I don't know."

"A unicorn with two horns."

"I might have guessed that much."

"And wings. The Pale Siren's mount. You don't know the Pale Siren?"

"Not personally."

"Eh?"

"No, I haven't heard about the Pale Siren."

"Well, you will."

"Could you give me the highlights, so that next time I know?"

"Sure." Oliver took a seat on the jail cell bed. "It's a local folk tale about a white siren—an unknown strain. She rides a duelicorn. Anyway, according to the tale, the Pale Siren rides in the clouds around Esselin, protecting those faithful to the White Heart. On the night of the Silent Hands burning, the Pale Siren was in Raykez. She'd shepherded a few faithful to safety. She did not protect the whole Farmstead because some had sinned. When the flames were seen in the night, the faithful cried. They convinced her to return to the Silent Hands to save their friends and family. There was something about telepathy there, but I forget how it goes."

"She drew their sorrows unto her?"

"Yeah, that's it. How'd you know?"

"Just a lucky guess. What happened after that?"

"She flew to the Silent Hands, and there she found, well, you know." Oliver looked uncomfortably to Sorana.

"You can say 'Banshee' in present company."

"Yeah, well, she found it watching the fire. When she saw what it had done, the Pale Siren was overcome with such rage that she attacked the Banshee. Different versions of the story give different accounts of exactly how it went down, but she forced the Banshee into the fire. That destroyed it. The Pale Siren blessed the bodies and went back to the clouds where she awaits the day she will be needed again by the faithful."

"Why would the Pale Siren want to free a vampire?"

Oliver said, "Don't know. That's part of why we think it's the dragon. You're an investigator?"

"Hired to be. I kind of do a lot of things." Visor stroked the bars. "So you don't think a horn was used on the bars?"

"Don't think so. Who hired you?"

"A private interest. I'm not allowed to give too many details. I've taken up enough of your time. Can we talk to the witness?"

"He's still at the hospital as far as I know, under guard. He was pretty messed up from what I hear."

# Chapter 39

Finnur

Finnur straightened a stack of notes. "You do have two potentially traumatic events between the imprisonment and excommunication that could stimulate a jealous reaction with transference to Mercy, but it seems you have adjusted well to both of these events. I do not see any significant psychological trauma. There is no reason to think the jealousy is psycho-somatic."

Rapture asked, "What's that?"

"It means a condition is generated by your own mind rather than external stimulus. You first experienced the sensation when you saw Sorana for the first time?"

"Yes, the first time. I just wanted her gone, for a minute, until I got used to her."

"That you accept Sorana despite her involvement and social shortcomings suggests jealousy as we normally mean it is not what you are experiencing. Another possibility is that your body has become confused. You were in binding with Lord Mourning when he died, correct?"

"No, I was sent to WaterCrescent for Lord Mourning, but Don got me first."

"I see. Still, Lord Mourning is a full sibling of Visor. Their body chemistry might be close enough to confuse your body. It could be that your body is attempting to adapt chemistry it developed for Mourning to match Visor, and is unable to resolve the difference. That could explain the duration of your binding with Visor, which is, what ... two standard deviations outside the average?"

Finnur's scribe said, "Maybe closer to three."

"Are you saying Don and I aren't bound? Or bound forever?"

"Please understand that everything I state now is mostly speculation. We don't even have a full understanding of what binding is. We know there is more of a physical dependency than there is between humans during the initial romantic period. I am, at this point, just trying to gather information."

Sister Mary said, "Doctor Finnur is retained to help us as individual patients. The purpose of this consult is to provide you with information. How you use the information is up to you."

The scribe said, "It may seem like we are performing research, but this is only so we can give you the tools to make an informed decision."

Finnur leaned back. "I have probably overstepped at this point."

Rapture said, "Well, I don't mind, even if it's guessing."

Sister Mary said, "I think we understand that you're not suggesting any particular course at this point. However, we would like your best guess."

"As you wish, Engels." Finnur stroked his chin. "There is another case that might be applicable here. She was not a patient of mine. I read a case study about a siren, Patient 21. She—"

The scribe asked, "21-M?"

"Yes, that sounds right. Patient 21-M was faced with a moral dilemma—the proverbial 'lesser of two evils'. In this case, 21-M complained of several maladies that persisted until the dilemma was resolved. Some of the maladies were similar to those that a siren experiences with jealousy—loss of control, displaced aggression, even feelings of inadequacy. Your symptoms are more pronounced, which would suggest a situation or person you find particularly reprehensible."

Finnur appeared to be waiting for a response.

Rapture said, "I'm sorry. I don't understand."

"Not at all, Engel Rapture—entirely my fault. Does Mercy strike you as insincere, particularly selfish or—"

Rapture guffawed. "Gah, she's a total liar!"

"And why do you say that?"

"Because, well ... I don't know. Maybe it's just something I want to see in her. She spent time with Don while I was with the vardal, in the AciesMagus."

Finnur shook his head. "Perhaps, but the balance of evidence I have suggests your mind and body are healthy and functioning properly. It is possible that you are picking up on obscure cues that you are not consciously aware of. For example, Sorana could have made a simple movement that suggests she is afraid of Mercy. You might be more likely to pick up on an unexpected scent."

"Like the jasmine. You know, I don't think it was Sorana at all. He had jasmine on him from that witch when he came to rescue me. And Don says her story doesn't seem right somehow. It has gaps. And she is always talking on and on about random stuff for no reason. And she is always trying to make me look stupid, like ... you know ..."

Finnur said, "Condescending?"

Rapture said, "Yeah, just like that."

Finnur rested his eyes on Burke. "Are you wearing anything from Mercy right now?"

Rapture pushed back her robe sleeves up to display the bracers. "These."

"Those are impressive." Finnur reached out. "May I?"

Rapture held up her wrist.

Finnur studied the bracers and made several expressions of interest. "These are exquisite."

Rapture said, "She said the big gem was unique. It's alive."

Finnur said, "She just gave these to you?"

Rapture nodded.

"How did that make you feel?"

Rapture said, "Well, I guess kind of nice. But the way she did it, it was like she was still being condescending—throwing me a bone ... or trying to control me. She even said I owed her. I guess that was honest, at least. I don't know how to describe it. She also adjusted my armor—without asking." Rapture opened her robe to show her symphonic metal armor.

Finnur glanced at the armor, but seemed more interested in the bracers. "I have an associate—a student, rather—who has some expertise in these types of things. I would like to give her a chance to look at these. Would you be able to stay a little longer? I would like to see if she is available right now."

Sister Mary nodded.

Rapture said, "That's fine."

Finnur turned to his scribe. "Go find Rainaria Lewis. Speak to her directly. Make sure that she understands this concerns the subject of her master's thesis."

# Chapter 40

Into Madness

"They were the Fallen's brood—rider and beast—Sinne and Chaosse. Sinne was she, with fire in the eyes, and a cloak of reversed human skin. Her gaze was so piercing that it could stop a man's heart ... her presence so cold, it froze your muscles. And once you are helpless before her, she drives you to madness, and devours your mind." The Witness coughed weakly.

Visor picked up a carafe of water. "Refill?"

The witness held out his cup with his unchained hand. "And the beast, massive and frightful was he—Rampant Chaosse in purist form. The growl shattered your courage. Ten horns, it had, each a unique weapon of death. Its body was spiked and armored, and inlaid with gems—spoils of past victims. From its maw spewed the devil's regurgitation, a fog spray that melted metal and human flesh alike."

Sorana signed, _He's insane._

Visor signed, _No, just a jerk._ He crossed his arms. "Another prisoner in the Sinne's path was killed. Yet, you were spared."

The witness smiled and tapped his temple with his chained hand. "By using me wits, I did. When I saw the Scarlet Witch approach—" The witness gasped and sat up coughing. "Ug—water down the wrong pipe." He drank some water and smiled. "Okay, I'll stop. It's just that this is like the fifth time I've told this today."

Visor said, "You're getting good at it."

"Thanks—just trying to keep myself and Peter over there entertained. I'm Zacharie, or just 'Zach'." Zach nodded in the direction of the chubby guard at the door. "I don't know why she didn't kill me. She read my mind to see I was telling the truth."

"Your health seems good. And you're in good spirits."

"I was just being held for the night. Probably would have gotten an afternoon in the stocks—petty theft."

Visor dug into a pouch. "When she read your mind ... can you show me how that worked?" He threw two copper coins on the bed.

Zach picked up the coins and studied them. "Sure ... as well as I can." He got off the bed on Sorana's side, and knelt awkwardly on one knee. He had to hold his chained hand across his body.

Sorana eyed him warily.

"Could we just switch here?" Zach flipped under his arm so that he faced the opposite direction.

Sorana moved around him. She recoiled and twisted her nose in disgust as he moved.

Zach looked up at Sorana. "She was about her height—pretty close, actually. She had her hand on my face."

Visor nodded to Sorana.

She put her fingertips on Zach face, not bothering to hide her revulsion.

Zach said, "It was her other hand."

Sorana switched hands.

"No, not like that." Zach moved Sorana's hand from near his nose and forehead to his cheek. "Look, maybe if you stood a little more—" He tried to nudge Sorana over, but with the awkward balance, he missed her hip and brushed a sensitive area.

Sorana smacked his hand away and jumped backwards, bumping into the nightstand and a cabinet. She had a hand on her baton. Her body was tense and positioned for a quick movement.

"Sorry." Zach spoke to Visor. "I didn't mean anything." He had no idea what almost happened.

Visor turned to Peter. "Would you mind? It's important we see how this was done." He stepped up to show his advisor ring and a silver coin.

Peter took the coin and released Zacharie. "This'd be easier if we had our own telepath. Contracting with Luvia is a waste."

Visor asked, "She's not responsive?"

"The sheriff's office doesn't pay enough to get on her schedule most of the time. The vampires just aren't as good, either." Peter said, "Kyle's been looking for a new human one ever since Hannah lost her marbles. It's been over a year, though."

Zach rearranged himself, propping his body against the bed. "I was leaning on the wall and cell bars like this."

Visor said, "You were paralyzed."

Zach said, "Yeah, she put her hand through the bars."

Sorana placed her gloved hand on Zach's face.

Visor asked, "Left handed?"

Zach said, "Yep. She asked, 'Do you know where the vampire is?' I told her, 'I think he's down there, in the secure cell.' She asked, 'Why are you jailed?' I said, 'I was caught stealing.' She read my mind to check that then left. When she was far enough away, I could move again."

Visor said, "Wait—you spoke, or she read you mind?"

Zach wrinkled his face. "We did speak, but I could feel her in my head, too. It's like she was watching my thoughts—I knew she would know if I lied." He shifted his weight to a more comfortable position. "In fact, I could 'see' her questions. When she asked about the vampire, I saw his face—but it wasn't like I'd ever seen it before. I don't know how to explain it."

"That's okay. Is there anything you can tell us about her speech?"

"She sounded old, I think."

"Is there anything else you can tell us?"

"Like I said, about her height ... and build." Zacharie gestured at Sorana. "It's dark in the jail to start with and her hood hid most of her face. Same as with her. Her hair and eyes might have been brown or black. Oh, and she wore a purple shawl, and some jewelry."

Visor said, "You've been helpful." He tossed another copper coin on the bed.

Peter rechained Zach.

Sorana signed, _What about the other guard?_

Visor signed, _Other guard?_

Sorana indicated a changing table. It was covered with a cloth that reached to the floor. There was a footlocker in front of it.

Visor said, "Peter, does your partner have anything to add?"

"Hugh?" Peter looked out the door down the hallway. "My relief isn't here yet."

Visor nodded to Sorana.

Sorana reached under the table and dragged out a man by the scruff of his shirt.

He struggled, but didn't break free. He was holding a dagger.

"Hey, there!" Peter drew a sword and approached cautiously. "What are you doing here? Who are you? Drop it!"

Visor gestured for Peter to hold off. Visor knelt to the man's level. "Look at me."

The man looked up. His eyes were bloodshot and his pupils dilated. His arm and head twitched.

Peter asked, "Nicodemous? Is that you?"

Visor asked, "Is he one of yours?"

"No, just a civilian I happen to know."

Visor asked, "What's the dagger for?"

Nicodemous said, "Just doing ... what they told me." He tried to break for the door.

Sorana tripped him and pulled him onto his backside. She grabbed his dagger-wielding wrist and squeezed. There was a snap and Nick cried out as he released the dagger. Sorana caught it.

Nicodemous curled into a fetal position.

Sorana studied and smelled the blade. "Poisoned—a toxin. Especially harmful to sirens, and humans."

Visor asked, "Nic, what were you planning to do?"  
Sorana grabbed Nic's hair and pulled his head up.

Visor said, "He's on some kind of stimulant."

Sorana spoke in vardal. "A poppy derivative. High dosage."

Nic whimpered and shivered.

Visor said, "We have to get by the dock before they start closing. Will he be at the jail?"

Peter said, "Yeah, probably, if not still here." He yelled down the hall for assistance.

Visor helped Peter secure Nic before leaving.

As the Hand exited the hospital, Visor asked, "How did you know Nicodemous was there?"

Sorana took several steps before answering. "How did you not?"

# Chapter 41

Ranie

Finnur said, "I would guess that you always carried the traits of a druid, and that the AciesMagus experiments activated or enhanced them. The connection you have with that cat is quite remarkable. I haven't known other druids personally, but from what I understand, your telepathy with the leopard is unique. Your empathic transference with other animals is at least as impressive as any on record. The same could be true for you healing, as you suspect. Actually ..." He looked down at her abdomen. "What I would like to do is have Visor come with you for another consult. I would also like to collect some fluid samples today, if you would be able to make it by my office tomorrow. Our lab might have some initial indications within a week.

Rapture said, "Oh, I don't think we're staying that long."

"Well, what I've been able to tell you today is all highly hypothetical. With at least some testing, I could provide some better answers. Would you be able to reschedule your other plans?"

"I can ask, but I know we're in a hurry to get out of here."

"When would you be returning?"

"I don't know. We're going far away, so probably a long time."

"Then I am sorry I couldn't be of more help."

"I appreciate what you said." Rapture stroked Burke. "I will try to make it by your office before we go—at least get you some samples. Then if we come back, we already have results."

The door opened and a woman entered. She was taller than Finnur—close to Don's height. Her platinum blond hair was notably long, hanging past her waist in the back. Rapture squinted. The woman's eyes were different colors—blue and violet. "Ranie?"

The woman stopped. "Rap?"

The two hugged. Rapture nearly gagged. "Whoa, did you come from a bar?"

"No, I was at home. I spilled a brandy earlier. Sorry, I forgot how sensitive your nose is." Ranie pointed. "Are those the bracers?"

Rapture pulled up her sleeve. "M-hmm."

Ranie cradled a bracer and fell silent. Her countenance shifted as she stroked and studied the bracers. "This is—where did you get these?"

Rapture said, "From a woman that calls herself Mercy. She lives in Skarholt Forest."

"Where did she get them?" Ranie's eyes darted as she read.

"I don't know."

Finnur asked, "Do you know what they are?"

Ranie said, "They are ... very old—the inscriptions at least." She stroked a figure. "This appears to be a Proxy."

"A Proxy?" Rapture looked closely at the figure. It wasn't very detailed. "It looks like a vardal or vampire—possibly a human, though. I can't even tell if it's a man."

Ranie turned Rapture's wrist and leaned in close to a symbol. "It could be any of those, but it doesn't matter. According to Dodelige scripture, Proxies are metaphysical beings. They simply inhabit the bodies of Esselin races—rarely humans, actually."

Rapture said, "I heard something about the Dodelige."

Ranie said, "The Dodelige was a church. It was outlawed and faded away generations ago."

Sister Mary said, "It is called a cult by some."

"A cult ... the Black Velvet Religion ... the Scourge of God ... the Burning Sin—it goes on." Ranie counted on her fingers as she listed names. "Some of their beliefs ran counter to those of the White Heart Mission. In particular, Proxies held the status of semi-divinity assigned to sirens by the White Heart."

Finnur asked, "How would you know if someone is a Proxy?"

Ranie said, "You wouldn't. They would only reveal themselves by accident or in an emergency—perhaps to protect one of us."

Finnur asked, "From what?"

Ranie was still concentrating on the bracers. "Drones."

Rapture asked, "Okay, what's a drone?"

Ranie grabbed a parchment of Finnur's. "May I?" She flipped the parchment over and drew a circle on its back side. "It's like this. Esselin is our realm." She drew some happy faces inside the circle. "This is where we all live—human, vardal, siren .... Now—" She drew another circle above the first one, and populated it with some dots. "—here is the Proxy home, the Meta Realm. This—" She drew an hourglass between the circles "—is the Frame. It is what allows the Proxies to transfer into one of us." She drew line from a dot in Meta Realm through the Frame to a happy face in Esselin.

Ranie raised a finger. "Now, a drone is a Proxy derivative. There was one Proxy that passed through the Frame and inhabited an Esselin body, but something went wrong." Ranie drew another line from a dot in Meta Realm across the Frame into Esselin. At the Esselin end of the line, she drew a sad face. "He was a fallen Proxy."

Sister Mary said, "Belial."

Ranie said, "It is not clear if Belial was exiled from Meta Realm or if he escaped. He is sometimes referred to as 'The Fallen'. In any case, according to the best evidence, he strives to return to Meta Realm by taking control of the Frame from the Esselin side. If he controls Frame, then he will be unopposed in our world, meaning all manner of suffering for Esselin. He possesses powers that other proxies do not. He is able to psychically dominate other people and control them as mindless drones." She drew an arrow from the unhappy face to a happy face, and put an X over the happy face.

"He is also able to transfer to a drone without the use of the Frame. This effectively gives him immortality." She drew an arrow from the sad face to a happy face, and made the happy face sad. "The efforts of Belial precipitated the Proxy War—the Frame and Her Proxies battling Belial and his Drones. It is not a war of cavalry and siege weapons. It is a struggle of subterfuge and deceit, played out in our world over millennia."

Rapture asked, "How did it end?"

Ranie shrugged. "There is no evidence that it ever ended."

Finnur said, "There is little evidence that it ever existed."

Ranie said, "Please excuse me professor, but I would differ on that point."

"Cave drawings, fossils and folk tales are not evidence."

"Do opinion polls and dream interpretations make a better basis for science?"

"If you would spend half the time on your psychiatric papers as you did pursuing this witchcraft, you would easily be the top student of your class."

"Am I not?"

"But if you put forth the effort, you could—"

"What, write papers on mastication-induced arousal? "

Finnur gesticulated and turned away. "I apologize, Engels."

Ranie studied the bracers further. "See here—the woman with two faces?"

Rapture squinted. "Yes, is she a Proxy?"

"Not according to the inscriptions." Ranie pointed out various features on the bracers as she described them. "If you notice, this face is tilted downward, toward this crowd of people. Those people are probably a mixture of Proxies and regular people. The other face tilts upward toward these stars."

"What is in her hands?" The etching was too small for Rapture to make out.

Ranie grabbed the lantern off the table and held it near to the bracer. "In the hand corresponding to the crowd, she is holding a spiked mace. Under it is an inscription that says 'For the world'. The other hand holds an orb and says 'for the Meta'."

"What is the inscription under her feet?"

"It means 'Save'."

"Save what?"

"It's a double imperative."

"What?"

"Sit down."

Rapture sat.

"No, an imperative is a grammar tool. You assume the subject. 'Sit down' means 'You sit down'. You don't say 'you' but people assume it. That isn't true in every language, though. In vardal, for example, 'sit down' means 'I will sit' or 'I want to sit'. In Dodelige, the imperative implies a self-directed object. 'Save' means 'You save me'."

"From what? Who is she talking to?"

"To whom she speaks is not clear. You must realize that most of what I tell you here is pieced together. In fact, it is illegal to publicly discuss. I'm just not sure this is the place."

Sister Mary stood. "Doctor Finnur, do you understand that this entire discussion is part of your consult?"

"Certainly, Engel."

Sister Mary walked to the door and smelled the air. She checked that it was latched. "You were asked here because you are on retainer to the Sanctuary. Everything Rainaria says is part of the same consultation."

"Everything will be treated as confidential."

Mary said, "Sister Rapture?"

"What?"

"Do you understand that we don't want to repeat this information? We don't want to cause problems for our consultants ... or the Sanctuary."

"What, about the Proxies? Oh, sure—of course."

Sister Mary returned to her chair but did not sit. "We are in confidence, Rainaria. Continue."

That reminded Rapture—oh, no! "Um, I forgot I'm not supposed to tell anyone about the bracers. I know I should have said something before now."

Mary said, "It is fine, Rapture."

"I mean, it's actually the gem, not the whole bracer."

Mary said, "Present company is safe, Rapture."

Ranie said, "The woman could represent the Frame. It could be that she is asking the Proxies to protect her from Belial and the drones. But in this context, I imagine it refers specifically to Belial's daughter."

Finnur asked, "You mean he reproduces?"

Ranie said, "The Proxy War has lasted millennia. It is in stalemate—or was, rather. Belial created an offspring to upset balance of power. She is unnamed in documents, but convention is to call her Spawness. Spawness was designed to destroy the Frame's guardians. But as the story goes, the process of her conception was interrupted—one might suppose by a Proxy, though that isn't explicitly stated. The result is that she has free will. Her loyalties will be determined by her own life experiences. So the Frame could be asking for protection from Spawness, or asking Spawness for protection from Belial."

Sister Mary said, "Continue."

Ranie took a deep breath. "The concept of the Spawness is referenced in other stories, and in different light. By the White Heart Mission, Spawness is known as Mortal Banshee."

There was a moment of silence.

Finnur moved up and put his hands on Rapture's chair. He spoke in a subdued tone. "Then all of this discussion should be past tense. That explains why the Dodelige cult died out—the Pale Siren killed the Mortal Banshee in the fire."

Ranie said, "Except that Pale Siren is a fabrication, at least as people understand her."

Finnur said, "They're the same religion."

"How convenient is it—a beautiful creature from the clouds, of pure white defeating the dark enemy of the White Heart? That the richest, most powerful organization in Esselin has this mystical protector of the people at its beck and call? That this fairy tale suddenly became a historical figure when there is almost no evidence of it ten years ago?"

"Rainaria! We are in the Sanctuary."

"And we are not the aloof cripples we are so often taken for. Spoken respectfully, all views are allowed." Sister Mary focused on Ranie. "Pale Siren or no, the Mortal Banshee died in the fire."

"The Dodelige script is specific in calling Banshee ageless, but not immortal." Ranie nodded in capitulation. "She could have been killed in a fire. The Dodelige, however, believes Banshee is still alive."

Sister Mary asked, "And how would that be possible, Rainaria?"

"The popular interpretation is that Banshee exists as some sort of metaphysical being. Perhaps as a memory passed along by telepaths through the generations."

Finnur said, "Conveniently difficult to prove or disprove."

"There is also the interpretation that Spawness is a real creature, magical in nature. But that reasoning usually doesn't hold up under scrutiny. Why haven't we seen her again? What is her motivation? Does she have to eat? Does she live in isolation, or among us?

Finnur said, "To live among us, she'd have to be a shapeshifter or move often."

Sister Mary asked, "Is there another interpretation, Rainaria Lewis?"

Ranie stared at the bracer. "Yes, there is, Sweet Sister Mary. There is one that most don't like to discuss, but makes the most sense." Ranie stroked the sapphire. "It is said that Belial sacrificed a part of himself to birth Spawness. It could be that he seeded a nymph, and that Wescott's 'immortality' refers to cloning. I would note that accounts of Banshee's appearance are conflicted and quite suspect. There is not enough information to suggest what strain of nymph she would have been."

Sister Mary lowered her head. "Any of us could be the creature."

Finnur said, "If any of this were true."

Sister Mary said, "Yes, of course."

# Chapter 42

McKinsey's

Rapture stuffed a loose tuft of tell-tale red hair back inside her hood. "If I had the brains you did, I wouldn't be drinking that filth."

Ranie cradled her mug as if it were a treasure. "There are different kinds of smart."

"Well, I don't have any of them."

"Really?" Ranie sighed. "Tell me—what is the first thing you think when you wake up in the morning?"

"Usually that I want to go back to sleep. Then I start feeling hungry, I guess. It depends. When we're at a place, like Xandria or Mercy's, we can eat and wake up normally. It's been so busy, though."

"And then what?"

"Well, if we're traveling, it's pretty much 'drag myself to the horse'—or Gebuhrman. I sometimes help pack up, but the boys and Sorana usually have that done already. They're all morning people."

"And what about the days when you aren't traveling and don't have a pressing engagement?"

Rapture said, "That never seems to happen."

"What do you plan to do first thing tomorrow morning?"

"I don't know. It'll probably be something like 'Hey Rap, get your ass up! We need to stock the boat.' Well, maybe he'll have some time for me. That usually depends on where we stay. He likes to spend time with me when we're in nice places, like Mercy's—ug, I can't stand that woman."

"You don't know where you're staying tonight?"

"Don hasn't said yet. The Sanctuary would be nice. We'd probably get stuck in the hospital, though."

Ranie's knuckles were white. "So what you're saying is you're not worried about tonight because it will work out somehow. That you _don't_ spend the first minutes each morning wondering if anyone would care if you never got up?"

"What do you mean?"

Ranie took a drink. Her eyes momentarily began to well, but she recovered. "Is sorrow so truly a woman's heart? What would it be to wear joy as a shroud? To spread happiness as a wildfire?" She met Rapture's eyes. "To be the stuff of beauty in and out ... to be the personification of love?"

"I don't know about that."

"But you know it to be true. We all do. I hate you, and even I love you. We are chemically bound to."

"What? Why?"

"Exactly. You will never understand, and that has nothing to do with smart." Ranie took a drink. "And everything to do with it. To lay there at night, and never be able to just turn it off ... no matter what I do, it just won't stop." Ranie finger-combed her hair back over her ears, then pressed her palms to her temple. "It's like something is broken inside ... like someone opened the valve and broke off the handle. Sometimes I just feel like I'm going to short out some day, and then I will sleep." She refocused on her bottle. "This helps, though." Ranie looked past Rapture. She sat back and narrowed her eyes.

Rapture smelled Don and Sorana behind her.

Don rested his hands on Rapture's shoulders. "Hi, Ranie."

Ranie crooked an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

## ***************

Athian arrived with Cespenar.

Mackenzie's got livelier as more customers gathered.

Cespenar sat on the table, cross-legged, leaning against a goblet. "That's really the only other time she helped in a fight. Talon usually keeps her in the carriage or his tent." He leaned over so suck up some double-sweet mead.

Visor stroked Rapture's thigh under the table. "So really, she just used the sonic attack to defend herself?"

"Then she really hadn't gone banshee. She's just sort of a ..." Athian rolled his wrist as if to stimulate his brain.

"A difference siren." Ranie's voice was horse.

Visor smelled Rapture's hair. "Difference siren?"

Ranie let out an exaggerated sigh and rolled her eyes to look out the window. "A difference siren—one that's not quite innocent but hasn't gone banshee." She rubbed an eye brow with her middle finger. "You know, 'Show him the difference'."

Athian put down his drink. "Yeah, difference siren!" He looked at Sorana, then Visor, as if expecting an emphatic response.

Visor said, "I don't know."

Athian said, "It's a fable. A boy was playing with some friends in the woods. They came across a nymph at a pond. She did not see them. They hid and watched her. They followed her home. It seemed as if she lived alone. A discussion ensued between the boys on whether the nymph was a banshee or a siren. On a dare, one of the boys approached and asked her if she was a siren or a banshee. She said that she didn't want to discuss the matter—that she only wished to be left alone.

"The boy's friends were disappointed. The next day, they gathered all the money they had and gave it to the boy. He went back to the nymph's house with the money. The boy offered her the full sum if she would tell him the difference between sirens and banshee. She said that she did not wish to discuss it.

"The boy and his friends were not deterred. One of the friends worked for a jeweler. He stole some gems of blue, knowing that sirens liked blue gems, and gave it to the boy. The boy brought these to the nymph's house and asked her once more what the difference was between a banshee and a siren. She accepted the gem and said 'I do not wish to speak of this, but I see that you will not stop asking until you have the answer. So if you meet me in three days at the pond, and bring a bouquet befitting a nymph, I will show you the difference between sirens and banshee. Bring all that are interested in knowing the difference, for I do not wish to discuss it after that.'

"The boys spent the next two days collecting flowers. They found these: red roses, white oleanders, yellow irises, purple amaranths, and black dahlias. Those are the flowers of nymphs. They did not tell others what they were doing. They were afraid adults may interfere and that other kids would share in the credit for their work. On the third day, they went to the pond and met the nymph. She asked 'Is this everyone who wishes to know the difference?' The boys assured her that it was. She said 'Please move together. I want to make sure everyone hears so that I do not have to speak of this again. The boys gathered close. The nymph said 'I see that you have made the bouquet, and that you included all of the correct flowers. Therefore, I will show you the difference. The nymph leaned in close to the boys, and ..." Athian leaned in toward the center of the table, threw up his hands, and yelled at the top of his lungs.

Rapture started and gripped Visor's arm.

Cespenar bumped his goblet, spilling some mead onto himself.

Ranie glared at Athian, unimpressed.

Other patrons in the tavern stared in surprise or annoyance, but as Athian broke into laughter, they went back to their own conversations.

Visor couldn't help but laugh. "What the hell?"

Rapture asked, "What happened?"

Athian held out his hands. "We don't know."

Sorana said, "She killed them. She was a banshee."

Visor gently patted Sorana's thigh. "Could be. It could also mean that you shouldn't annoy an adult that says she doesn't want to be bothered. It is a parable, by the way."

"No." Ranie held her face with both hands. She'd had too much to drink. "It is nothing. It means exactly what it doesn't say. It's just a damned story. The whole point is that there is no difference between a banshee and a siren."

A familiar voice came from behind Visor. "I thought the point was you should just keep your ho mouth shut!"

Ranie's face lit up. "Hi, Ev."

"Hey Meole!"

# Chapter 43

Evan

Evan hugged Visor from behind. "Hey Donnie, what's up?" She looked at Rapture. "Oh, it's Rap! You still have the same siren? I thought you were supposed to switch them out every couple of years."

Rapture giggled. "Hi, Evan."

"It doesn't really work like that. You don't even ..." Oh, never mind. "How's Charles?"

"Still living with mom and dad—still the baby. He's a foreman with Justin now." Evan walked around the table, signaling to a waitress for more drinks. She shoved Cespenar aside to make room next to Ranie and plopped down. She swung her head back to get her shoulder length, dirty-blond hair out of her face. She was Sorana's height, but had smoother features and a softer build. Her aqua eyes grew big. "Wow! You have a ninja? That's awesome, Donnie!"

Rapture snickered. "Donnie."

Visor said, "This is Sorana Singrin. She's just dressed like this to keep a low profile tonight."

"Oh." Evan sounded disappointed. "Then what do you do?"

Sorana said, "I'm a ninja."

"Hugh?"

"Ninja."

"I know, but ... wait—the kind that steals stuff or the kind that kills stuff?"

"Yes, and you are Ev?"

"Yeah, 'Ev' because 'Evan' is too long and Ranie's too damn lazy to—holy shit!" Evan jumped to her feet and hopped back. "There's a tiger under our table!"

Visor said, "Leopard."

Ranie said, "Yeah I was going to say something, but ... didn't."

"Oh, sorry, he's mine. He's harmless. We call him Burke." Rapture over-pronounced 'Burke'.

Evan patted her chest. "Oh, my heart."

Ranie said, "And it's 'Evan' because everyone is too lazy for Evangeline Puttana Mourning."

"Puttana Moore." Evan sat back down.

Rapture asked, "What?"

Ranie said, "I don't think so."

Evan faced off with Ranie. "What! Just 'cause you screwed him first doesn't make him yours."

Visor asked, "You're married?"

Ranie said, "Ev, I just meant that because you never had the wedding, your name isn't changed."

Rapture smiled broadly. "You're engaged?"

Evan waved off Ranie and spoke to Rapture. "Was. The dork is with Talon now."

Visor said, "Really? Funny that we were just talking about Talon, and his difference siren."

Ranie said, "I believe he's being held against his will."

"Talon's got a lot of prisoners out at the watermill. Wish Sheriff Kyle would do something about it." Evan air-quoted 'sheriff'. "If I ever got that bastard alone ..."

Ranie rolled her eyes. "You'd what?"

Evan said, "Hey! I took Essex's self-defense class and passed it with a 'C'!"

Ranie said, "Minus."

Visor asked, "So that qualifies you to stab people in the back while they're not looking?"

Ranie narrowed her eyes. "It's a genetic gift."

Evan swung her hands wildly. "Who knows what Quenton is doing out there? They probably have him locked up with that difference nymph."

Cespenar ducked to doge Evan's swinging gestures.

Rapture said, "Siren."

Evan said, "What?"

A waitress delivered complimentary waters for Evan and Ranie. "Hello Evan."

"Pinky!"

"Anything else?"

Visor asked, "What distillates do you have?"

Pinky said, "Um, I guess I—"

Evan said, "He wants a Myre Brandy or green grape brandy. That's just what he calls it."

Visor said, "It actually means whiskey and a lot of other spirits too, but—"

Evan ignored him. "The redhead needs a lighter mead. Just mix whatever your regular is with half fruit juice. A small rum for Meole. And she needs something to eat. Whatever bread you have is fine." She pointed at Athian. "Beer." She looked sideways at Sorana. "What do ninja's drink?"

Sorana said, "Water is fine."

"You don't drink?"

"I can. It is wasted."

"Hugh?"

Visor said, "She has a high metabolism. She'll take a dry red. Put it on my tab."

"And Pinky, I'll take a Mackenzien Grotto. You know how I like it." Evan patted Pinky on the rump. "What, Rap?"

"What?"

Evan said, "What do you mean 'what'? You said something just a minute ago. Then Pinky took our order. And Sorlana said she doesn't drink."

Rapture said, "Oh. A difference 'siren', not a difference 'nymph'."

"Ah." Evan nodded absently as she surveyed the tavern.

"I have to go pee." Cespenar flew to the door.

Sorana said, "I do drink."

Athian asked, "How did you get the cat in?"

Rapture said, "Ranie knows the owner."

Visor said, "Wait—you're engaged?"

"Yeah, one of Ranie's friends." Evan air-quoted the word 'friends'. "Ol' card shark here lost me in a poker game."

Visor asked, "A game? To get married?"

"Oh, no, it was a week of maid services." Evan air quoted 'maid services'. "So miss 'I never lose' here blows the game, I go to his house for a week, and next thing you know, somehow I'm engaged."

Ranie said, "I never lose a _night_ of poker, or a match of Archon. That was a single hand of poker—and pure chance."

Evan complained to Athian. "They didn't even look at all the cards."

Ranie said, "It was all blind, dumbass, open card. The turn sealed it." She started smacking the table as if dealing. "Him: Queen of diamonds, nine of diamonds; me: five of spades, eight of clubs; Community: jack of diamonds; King of clubs; Queen of spades; three of spades; and the river, which didn't matter!" Her coordination was notably impaired.

Athian said, "I guess it didn't."

Ranie leaned back in her chair to see Athian past Evan. "It was still a good bet, though—what Evan makes in six months against one week of work. It's too bad, though. We could have used the cash."

Evan scoffed. "Yeah, poor you—sat on your ass and my back stung for two weeks."

"If that's the worst thing ..." Ranie mumbled the rest.

Rapture asked, "What was he like?"

Evan said, "Oh, he's a guy. You know, just a guy."

Athian said, "Oh, yeah."

Evan smacked a deck of cards on the table. "Hey, Sorlana, I'll take you on."

Athian said, "I'm in!"

Rapture looked so sweet ... her hair mostly tucked into her hood ... her freckled cheeks framing a warm, subtle smile. Visor hugged her shoulder and kissed her cheek.

She turned and kissed him back.

He moved his other hand to hug her, but stopped at her chest.

Suddenly, everything was strange.

Rapture pulled back, a quizzical expression on her face. "Do you ..."

Visor said, "Yeah, it's like ... we just did this."

"I ... can't even ... talk."

"It's just déjà-vu ... our brains trying to predict ... it's biological variance ... just sometimes things get out of sync."

"Don, this ... is weird."

They clutched each other. "It can be—" Visor forced himself to ignore the feedback. "It can be scary but it is perfectly natural and doesn't mean anything is wrong."

Things partially fell back into sync.

Evan said, "Why not just kill yourself?"

Sorana said, "No one else has to."

Visor said, "Hey, guys! What!"

Evan seemed a bit startled. "Well ... she said she wanted to die"

Visor said, "I didn't hear that." Or had he heard it and not processed it yet?

Athian said, "She did. It's not the first time, Visor."

Visor said, "Well it's the first time I heard."

Rapture said, "Me too."

Everything fell out of sync again.

"No, you have been there." Athian studied him closely. "What's wrong with you?"

Visor couldn't form the words. He was with Sorana, but it wasn't quite her—she wasn't pretty, and she had blood smeared on her face. They were in snow.

Cespenar landed on the table and flashed strobe lights. "Who's winning?"

The déjà-vu was suddenly gone. Everything fell back into sync.

Rapture relaxed her grip.

Pinky returned with the drinks.

# Chapter 44

Ignas

Evan put a toothpick in the ante. "And she said that she's probably just a ho-bag like that Ranie. And I said, 'Lady, no one's a ho-bag like Ranie.'"

Ranie said, "Some of us are multi-talented. And some of us have no discernable skills."

"Yeah, and so then I said, 'Lady, you'd might as well—'" Evan looked up at someone. "Oh, that's the asshole that raped Ranie." She said it loud enough that people at the next table probably heard.

Rapture turned around. There was a large group of men walking in.

Don said, "What! Really?"

Evan snarled. "Asshole."

Ranie said, "Oh, I was drunk. And I guess he was drinking too." She put her head down and said something too quietly for Rapture to hear.

"That's bullshit! He raped you." Evan's lips formed a pursed frown as she tapped her cards on the table. She looked past Rapture. "The broner-spanker!" She stood up. "Yeah, you, Ignas. That's right. The piano is on the stage. Are you going to play it?"

Athian asked, "What happened to 'the elephant under the table'?"

Don said, "I guess the 'tiger' ate him."

Rapture squinted to see the details of the stage. "Isn't it an organ, anyway?"

Some man in Ignas' group said, "Crazy cunt". Some mumbling and laughing followed.

Cespenar covered his ears.

Don tensed up.

Ranie was hanging on to the edge of the table and slouching back in her chair. It looked as if she might pass out. She looked like Don had earlier, during the deja-vu.

Athian said, "It's an idiom, Hun."

Rapture said, "Not an idiom I want to hear."

"What?"

The group of men sat at a round table across the aisle. There were maybe ten of them.

Evan said, "Hey Ignas, are all the sows busy tonight? I see you got the fancy boys."

One of the men looked at Evan, waved her off and called Pinky over.

Evan yelled something else that referred to Ignas' kid, but the table ignored her.

Don hushed her, and Evan resumed playing cards.

Athian said, "Oh, the 'piano on the stage' is an idiom—an expression—not that c-word."

Rapture said, "Oh, okay."

Don gave Sorana pointers on how to play her hand.

Rapture absently petted Burke.

Mackenzie's was getting livelier now. A couple danced on the stage, near the unkept and apparently rarely used organ.

Ranie sat up, more alert now. She took a slow drink, wiped her mouth, and said something to Evan.

Evan smacked the table and breathed heavily. Her face turned red. She stood and began taunts anew, drawing the attention of the surrounding tables.

Rapture said, "Evan!"

Don said, "Evan! Now isn't the time!"

Evan was now yelling to Ignas. "And your cave-whore is sucking off the pigs while you're out packing donkey shit."

Ignas slammed a mug on his table and stood up.

Don hopped up and pushed in front of Rapture.

Sorana was soon crouched beside him.

Half of Ignas's friends stood up. Some maneuvered forward, holding wine mugs or other objects menacingly.

Burke growled under the table, prompting Ignas and some of his friends to draw small weapons.

Athian held up his hands. "Whoa, now. Let's all just take a second and calm down."

Sorana said, "Forty-two" and traced figures on the back of Don's leg. She pulled out a throwing star. "One hundred if they flee."

All of those men were about to die. Nature took over. Rapture emitted high pitched wail—at the upper end of the pitch range most human men could hear. It was effective in drawing attention. Rapture stepped in front of Sorana, pulled back her hood, and released the draw string of her cloak, allowing it to fall the ground. She straightened so that the symphonic armor would show off her figure. She waved her arms to spread out her scent more quickly.

Ignas met her gaze. The fight left his eyes.

Mackenzie's fell silent.

Rapture stepped into the isle. All eyes followed her.

Ignas relaxed and carefully laid his dagger on the table. He sat and dropped his head in shame. He stared into his mug, and the rest of his round table followed suit.

Athian was on one knee.

Don pressed his chest and gasped for air.

Rapture grabbed her cloak and returned to her seat.

Sound slowly resumed in Mackenzie's.

Evan gawked at her with a slack jaw. "Damn, girl! Beautiful much?"

Rapture said, "Sorry. Maybe I overdid it."

Athian said, "Rap, that was amazing. I still feel it."

Evan said, "That outfit makes your boobs huge."

Don said, "It's not the outfit."

Ranie said, "Hey Ev, remember that time when your aunt Osanne's baby wouldn't nurse."

Evan said, "Oh yeah. And her boobs ballooned up like ... balloons?"

Ranie pointedly looked at Don. "It's called engorged, Ev. When the baby doesn't suckle properly, a nursing woman's breasts become engorged with milk. Your aunt had to put a warm cloth on her areola and to massage to express it. Otherwise, they remain swollen and painful."

Don stood. "I'll be right back. Beer is passing through."

Ranie smirked.

A woman stopped at the table and put two half-coppers in front of Rapture. "If it pleases the Engel." She curtsied—poorly. Her dress was ragged and her hair matted.

Rapture said, "Danke shön."

The woman's face lit up, weathered and dirty as it was. "Bitte shön." She left.

Evan inspected the coins. "What's the point? Just keep it for a bath."

Athian said, "That was probably all she had."

Evan said, "Yeah, that's what I mean." Her expression became smug as her eyes followed movement down the aisle.

Ignas was leaving.

Rapture said, "She assumed I am associated with the Sanctuary."

Evan started to organize a new card game but was interrupted as someone dressed in a kitchen service outfit laid a bouquet of roses in front of Rapture. "Compliments of Mackenzie's".

# Chapter 45

Engelfire

Donations to the Sanctuary piled up on the table. The other tables observed them, some more overtly than others.

Visor talked Rapture into switching chairs so that he shielded her from the isle. It was getting crowded, and there was a lot of chaotic movement near their table. A flautist played at a table that he couldn't see. "We should leave."

The others not only wanted to stay, they tried to convince him that it would be fine for Rapture to sing for the other customers. After some circular discussion, Evan ended the argument. "Don't be a dork, Donne. I double-dog dare you to play the keyboard."

Up on stage, Rap hummed a few notes and Visor followed them with the organ. It had some sticky keys and misaligned valves, but would work well enough for this tipsy crowd. Rap didn't really need to warm up. As long as she was hydrated, she could wail out an opera.

Visor sat uncomfortably on a stool he'd taken from the bar.

Rapture stood behind him.

Athian, Sorana and Evan formed a protective perimeter around Rapture, as most of the patrons had packed up near the stage in anticipation.

Rapture and Visor passed the tune back and forth, teasing the crowd with sequential notes of popular songs, as they had done together numerous times at inns and in the court of WaterCrescent. He could feel his adrenaline surge as Rapture's pheromones swept over him. She was prepping the crowd.

Athian plucked his lute in harmony when he could predict the melody. His riffs were impressive.

Rapture hummed the cue, and Visor led into the opening riff of _Sirenia_. It was considered a black sheep of sirenic symphony—one of two popular songs that were less appropriate for formal settings, primarily due to their graphical lyrics. _Sirenia_ also had heavy percussion and rough string instrument riffs.

Athian took over the melody, which was good as his lute was a better instrument for the gritty opening sequence.

The crowd recognized _Sirenia_ and cheers went up. Some clapped and danced while others stumbled about, searching for something to use as a percussion instrument.

Then Rapture began, and everything but her voice faded.

#### You sleep to find your sensual queen

#### She touches you and she is me

Cespenar, perched on the organ pipes, flashed lights in rhythm to her notes.

Rapture reached the chorus and the women in the crowd sang along.

#### This Wailing Siren for human souls

#### Forbidden strokes in dreaming strolls

#### This Screaming Banshee grand guignol shrine

#### Erotic hex body and mind

Rapture was loud, but Visor's ears soon adjusted. The siren sang and the crowd was enthralled. She imposed her want and will upon them, and they beseeched her for sound and scent. They swayed to her gestures and danced to her rhythm, alternately wailing and cheering in reaction to her subtle inflections. The thralls screamed as she directed and stood solemnly when she desired.

The closing accompaniment was simple and Visor looked around as he played. People were filing in off the street. Mackenzie's staff was distributing instruments to their patrons.

A Knight of the Moon blocked the entrance. He began frisking everyone before letting them enter Mackenzie's.

Ranie was sitting on their original table, resting her back against the wall.

Rapture took a drink of water from Visor's cup. Her forehead was beaded with perspiration and her cheeks flushed.

Visor said, "Nice Rap. What now?"

She rested her hands on his shoulder, licked his neck, and said, "Let's see your tower witch do this!"

She hummed the introduction for Venom. That was the other black sheep song.

Evan made her way to Ranie.

Ranie played with some figurine from the pile of Sanctuary donations, pretending it could fly.

Evan snatched Ranie's cup and held it out of her reach.

Rapture was finishing Venom. It was traditional for the singer to vary the words of the closing stanzas.

#### Deep in warm and wet sensation

#### Irresistible temptation

#### Your mouth so hot, my skin so moist

#### Lässt du mich ihren Namen schreinen

Ranie said something to Evan and lazily pointed in Rapture's direction.

Evan watched the stage for a second. She dropped Ranie's drink and said something that started with 'holy', if he was reading her lips right.

## ***************

Athian said, "Mine's the maroon one with the crimson monogram."

The Visitor's Center attendant hefted Athian's pack up to the counter. He asked Ranie, "You're housing all of them?"

"Yes." Ranie smacked her residency paper and employee card on the counter. "I work for the university."

The attendant read the paper. "Rainaria Lewis, 26 Acatia district." He mumbled to himself. "Do you need any help with the gear, ma'am."

Ranie said, "I think we'll manage."

Visor put some extra coins on the counter. "Please see that the gray Holstein gets special attention. Her name is Mystique." Visor waved over the Knight of the Moon that had followed them from Mackenzie's. "Could you get some of these?"

The knight asked. "The Engel's?"

Visor handed him a bag. "Yep. And this one. Thanks." He gave another of Rap's bags to Evan. "We all ready?"

Rapture yawned. "Yeah."

Ranie put away her papers. "What a night."

Evan led the group. "When you guys started the _Sirenia_ encore, I seriously thought the ceiling was going to fall in. My boobs are still jiggling."

Athian said, "That was a lot of percussion."

Visor said, "They keep a lot of instruments in taverns around here."

Athian said, "Because the sanctuary is here."

Ranie said, "Most of the vibration was from tables and chairs."

Cespenar sneezed. "There was dust falling from the rafters."

"That was truly a concert for the ages." Athian readjusted his pack. "Rap was just fabulous. When she wailed that outro ..."

Evan said, "That was a freaking Floorgasm!"

Athian cupped his ear. "What! I still can't hear you for some reason."

Rapture looked at Visor inquisitively. "A what?"

"It just means you nailed a line."

"You mean my transition to outro?"

"I think they're talking about the close of the last meta-chorus."

"Oh, yeah." She huffed. "I kinda lost control there with the crowd so close, and sweaty. And grabby."

"Don't touch me." Visor flung his hand around, pretending to fend off people getting too close. He spoke with an accent of a native speaker of old sirenic. "Don't touch my hair."

"Why do they do that?"

"Maybe because you fling it around."

"All sirens do that at the _Sirenia_ outro."

"But they don't all color their hair red."

"I do not!" She slapped his shoulder.

"Maybe because you're irresistible."

Visor and Rapture caught up with the group, which had stopped to observe an arrangement of logs. Shorter logs were stacked like tipi around a taller, vertical log.

Evan said, "They do this every year. A waste of wood."

Athian said, "That must be quite a blaze."

Evan said, "Yeah. They make it bigger. That's just the first stack. They put a pile of outhouses and other junk on top of that."

Athian said, "Isn't that the Engelfire? It'll be the 89th build."

Visor said, "I've heard of that. It's a school event, right?"

Ranie narrowed her eyes at him. "An undergrad event, mostly." She walked off.

Others followed, with Rapture and Visor trailing again.

Rapture said, "I am so tired."

Visor put an arm around her waist. "Go straight to bed when we get to Ranie's. I'll take care of the gear."

Rapture said, "I'm surprised she's letting you stay."

"Yeah. What's with the animosity?"

"I don't know. Did you sleep with her?"

"No!" Visor scoffed.

"I don't know, then."

"Wait, do you mean ever?"

"Ach du lieber Gott!"

Visor said, "Well, it was so long ago. We were still working the farmstead. She can't really still care about that."

Rapture stopped. "Ach du lieber Gott!"

"She's two years older, you know. She was just playing around."

"Oh, really? Did she tell you that? Are you so blind—" She shook her head.

He held out his hands. "What's wrong? There's nothing to worry about."

"Is that what you think?" Rapture gasped and held up a hand standoffishly. "Good night." She turned and limped away. She smacked her thigh and Burke followed.

Visor took a step after her. "But really, there's nothing to worry about."

And just like that, Rapture walked away from him.

The Knight of the Moon watched for a moment, then set out after Rap.

# Chapter 46

Revan's

Visor said, "Well it's not so funny to me."

Athian laughed. "You have to stop thinking like a 'me' and think like a 'we'. Then it all makes sense."

"Easy for you to say, mister 'in tune with your feminine side'."

"Tune has nothing to do with you being a little more open minded and less of a dork."

"Your." Visor leaned against the wall, causing his floor cushion to slide along the floor.

Athian swirled his wine. "Traditionally, I'm supposed to tell you to talk with her."

"Ah, thanks for the insight."

"Fine, I'll just give you the answer. She just wants to see you suffer a little."

"Okay. So, fine, she walked off and now I'm suffering."

Athian closed his eyes, put a hand on his head and scrunched his face in concentration. "I predict ... Visor will screw up again." He laughed.

Evan came in with a plate of rice snacks. "What's so funny?"

Visor said, "Nothing."

Athian said, "He told Rap that Ranie didn't mean anything to him, and he's wondering why she's upset."

Evan said, "You're a dork. Want a ricey?"

Visor shook his head. "It's not funny. She could be in danger. Who knows where she is."

"Aww, can you not eat?" Evan rolled her eyes. "She's an adult. She has a lion—"

Visor said, "Leopard."

"—and a Knight of the Moon with her. And hmm, maybe she went to the Sanctuary?" Evan put the tray on the table and sat in the empty chair.

Visor sighed. "So, what am I supposed to do? She walked away from me."

"Women do that. Yes I know! You are binded." Evan air-quoted 'binded'. "And she's a siren ... yada yada. She's still a woman."

Visor said, "But—"

Athian said, "But in all seriousness, it's about honesty. They always know when you're lying."

Visor said, "But I'm not lying. I'm not going to run off with ... another girl. She hates me anyway."

Evan said, "See, now you're being defensive. That's not even what he's saying, dork."

Athian held up a ricey. "These are fabulous. Are you cold, Hun?"

Evan rubbed her hands on her arms.

"She's just wanting assurance. Go see her in the morning." Athian patted his lap.

Evan grabbed a ricey and sat in Athian's lap. "You have to talk about feelings."

"Can you do that part for me?" Visor got quiet as Ranie walked in.

Ranie carried a bottle of wine and glasses, and a fine hair brush. She was fresh from the bath and in a long, multi-layer gown. She looked at the three others as she put the bottle on the table. "Oh. I see you were talking about me. I'll just leave this and go to bed so you can continue." She turned to leave.

Evan said, "Meole—"

"No, don't ... please." Visor surprised himself.

Ranie regarded him with a sneer. She crossed her arms, but did not leave.

## ***************

Athian plucked his lute.

Ranie sang, "To my blue melody ..." She took a breath and sat up straight. "My f-a-a-a-all" she gasped, "wi-i-i-ll—" She broke into laughter and the others joined in. "That's impossible without the choir backup—holding it that long."

"Fail!" Evan brushed Ranie's hair.

Athian said, "Okay, Ranie. That's one shot."  
Ranie rolled her eyes. "Fine." She reached for the wine bottle and her sleeve knocked over Visor's glass. "Ooo. Sorry."

Visor set the bottle back upright, but it had already spilled. "No biggie." He sat back to check the wetness on his pants.

Evan got up. "I'll get a towel."

Ranie said, "I'm not used to these long sleeves. I've just been chilly recently."

Athian grabbed the lamp's oil flask and walked over to the fire pit. "It is kind of cold in here." He poured some oil on the kindling and lit it. The fire flared. "Is the flue open?"

"Yeah, but it'll still get smoky until the condensation burns off." Ranie poured a drink. " _Sinking_ is just way too slow without the choir."

Visor said, "But it was good up until you missed the word transition."

Ranie did not look at him. "M-hmm."

Sorana, also fresh from a bath, joined them. She was in some borrowed night clothes.

Evan returned and tossed a towel to Visor.

He stood up and pressed it on his pants.

Ranie said, "My turn. Donnie, sleeping, second stanza, two shots."

Visor sat down and drank two shot's worth of beer.

Evan said, "You can't just do that!"

Visor said, "I'm just saving time."

Ranie said, "Chicken."

Visor said, "There's no way."

Evan said, "No crap, but the whole point is to hear you screw it up."

Athian said, "Sorana could do it."

Evan said, "Yeah because she don't drink."

Ranie said, "A cappella, then."

Athian said, "There's no way."

Sorana said, "I do drink."

Ranie said, "Okay, then— _Sleeping_ , second stanza, a cappella, two shots."

Visor said, "Intercede, double call."

Sorana drank a double shot of whisky. "Nasty."

Ranie said, "Quite, but sometimes necessary. Evan, are you okay?"

Evan was rubbing her head and appeared to be in significant pain. Her eyes were tearing up. "Ung ... it'll be fine. Recently, my head sometimes ... does this."

Visor asked, "Like Deja-vu?"

Evan said, "No, it just hurts like a bitch."

Athian asked, "The drinks?"

Evan said, "No, it just happens sometimes—usually in the morning."

"And more often." Ranie pushed hair back from Evan's forehead. "And then she sings."

Visor said, "She used to sing when she got moody, back when we were growing up."

"Yeah, that's pretty much it. She gets moody, then starts singing." Ranie leaned oddly close to Evan. "Passionate vocals—depressing lyrics, though."

Sorana sat on her knees in front of the fire place. She locked gazes with Visor and began an eerie hum. It was definitely an adaptation that he'd never heard. The fire flared behind her. The induced draft of air wafted her hair towards the flame. The alcohol was starting to affect him. Everything was solemn and dreamy. Her opening crescendo was perfect ... her intonation and dramatic hesitations ... all perfect ...

#### Cede ... yield to her wailing call, seek out her rancid shawl,

#### To Banshee's beckon succumb

####

#### Evan wrinkled her nose. "What is that!"

#### Athian asked, "Sorana?"

#### Sorana broke into the chorus:

####

#### Hear the call of Banshee's sweet opera

#### The ancient song, that compels your soul

#### We're drunk on blood

#### We're sleeping in her arms

Athian said, "Sorana!"

Sorana blinked. "What? Oh, _Sleeping ... in her Arms_."

Ranie said, "I've never heard that."

Athian said, "I think she meant _Sleeping Moon_."

Sorana said, "Oh, okay." She took a breath and started a sweeter, more familiar tune.

# Chapter 47

Sister Mary's Suite

Rapture sang:

#### Blue moon decrees 'adoration imbue'

#### Sleeping ... dreaming ... with you

Mary and Vivian clapped lightly.

Mary said, "Thank you, Rapture."

Rapture said, "Thanks for letting me stay tonight. Your suite is so nice."

Vivian said, "I'm sure we can find you a private room, Rap. It may not be as spacious as a suite. We do have suites that are unused, but they are unkept and full of stuff."

Rapture said, "Well, I guess if Mary doesn't mind, I'd be fine ..."

Mary nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, certainly. Stay here. We have so much to talk about."

Rapture said, "Thanks. I just didn't feel like being alone tonight."

Sister Mary said, "I don't quite understand. Why exactly are you here?"

Rapture explained the situation with Ranie and Don.

Vivian said, "I don't understand. Why would he lie like that?"

"I don't know."

Mary said, "Perhaps he thought you might be jealous."

Vivian said, "Maybe. My bindings never did that. Of course, I've always burned out by two years, so ...."

"Violates' bindings normally are shorter." Mary rubbed her belly. "I'm afraid the little one is sapping my strength. It was a long day with the visit to Zacharie and all. And I was supposed to see Yvette."

Vivian said, "I could go get her, if you like."

"That would be great. Maybe tobacco gum would help. There's probably some in the kitchen."

"Sure." Vivian left.

Sister Mary said, "Rapture, have you ever been able to observe another binding?"

"Well, sure, at dances and balls and stuff. I don't have any friends that—you know, any sirenic friends."

"Fascinating. So, you've mostly been around human couples. You've seen how they interact. How would you describe—" Mary started and touched her belly. "What is the longest marriage with which you are familiar?"

"I don't know. Don was always so busy, or away. I didn't get out to make a lot of friends. I guess my seamstress was married a long time."

"Did she talk about her marriage?"

"Sure, whenever I asked. She didn't talk much."

"You were a duchess in WaterCrescent?"

"Duchess of Augusta, which includes WaterCrescent, so yes, I guess so."

"Some people might find that intimidating."

"But I'm a siren."

"Did she know any other sirens?"

"Well, I was really the only one there—I mean that stayed in the keep all the time."

"If she didn't know other sirens, then she may not know to implicitly trust you. Did it get lonely there?"

"Yeah, I just thought that's how things are. I like it better here, though. Not just the Sanctuary, but the whole city. I guess I like the Mercy's, too. Not Mercy so much, but the garden ... the bed—it's all so nice. I guess even the cave."

"You mean cave in Kalafels?"

"Yes, it was hard, and cold, but ... somehow it was, in a way, fun."

"Tell me about the cave."

Rapture did.

"Has Don been away from your side since the rescue?"

"No—I mean, to hunt and stuff, but not really. Oh, well he was captured by Talon. And a little while I was in Xandria. But other than that, not really."

Mary waved Rapture closer. "Tell me about him. What is it you miss the most right now?"

"Well the touching, of course. Then just the whole interaction."

"You mean like the dancing and meals?"

"Yeah. But also, the thinking—planning stuff."

Mary nodded slowly. "Planning? So like when you're going to see his family."

"More like where we're going to go next to get stuff done. Do we need to go to Raykez or Krafer's? Stuff like that."

"You enjoy working alongside him? Struggling to accomplish something?"

"Sort of, but I guess even more, it's waking up and feeling the warmth and pressure against me—the scent."

"Waking up to look into those blue moons."

"I didn't know you'd met Don."

"Briefly, a few times. I've had occasion to make rounds in the political circles of WaterCrescent, before the war."

Vivian returned with Yvette, a Marigold. Vivian gave a packet of gum to Mary.

Yvette studied a painting on the wall. "I always loved this."

Rapture moved closer to see it clearly. It was a portrait of a man. He was mostly bald. His beard and long mustache were gray. He had dark, bushy eyebrows and two earrings in his left ear. "Is that Wescott? It looks like he's reaching out at you."

Yvette said, "It's called thomplayou. I've seen other works, but this one is awesome."

Vivian said, "I think it looks more amumorphic. See how his hand reaching at you looks bigger than his head?"

Mary said, "Anamorphic and trompe-'oeil are the same style. They mean that the artist uses perspective scaling and shadowing to make the work appear to have depth. The difference is that one is the vardal name. In vernacular, 'anamorphic' often refers to projection toward the viewer while 'Trompe-l'oeil' is used for projection away. Typically, a trompe-l'oeil painting may cover a wall or ceiling to make a room appear bigger."

Rapture said, "Oh, is that like an exonym?"

"Not quite, sweet sister. An exonym refers to a feature that is uniquely local. The concept of three-dimensional art is universal."

Another wall hanging pictured a woman with bleached hair on a white horse with two horns. She reached down to another woman with dark hair and eyes. The dark woman knelt on the ground and reached up. Rapture pointed. "What is that one?"

Vivian said, "An advertisement poster for _Vengeance Mirror_. It is an opera. It's going to be awesome if they ever finish it. It's the sequel to _Baptism of Stains._ "

Rapture said, " _Baptism of Stains ..._ I've heard of that."

Vivian said, "It's the biggest and best opera ever—my favorite."

Yvette said, "But _Vengeance Mirror_ is going to rock."

Mary said, "Likely, _Vengeance Mirror_ will eclipse all records set by _Baptism_. It is superior in technical and artistic depth and breadth. It could very well reshape our understanding of symphonic opera."

Rapture asked, "When will it be finished?"

Vivian shrugged. "Who knows?"

Yvette said, "It's written, but they're still casting parts and quibbling over money. They're having to design a new stringed instrument and build a bunch of new props."

"And the pit choir is ridiculous. They'll need a new stage just to hold them all. And it calls for eleven siren chairs." Vivian guffawed. "Can you believe that?"

"Anyway, it starts where the _Baptism of Stains_ leaves off, with the Banshee's Vengeance Aura." Yvette held out her arms and crouched, as if sneaking. "She's wandering the streets of Raykez during a storm.

#### Guilt takes flight from Fallen's blight

#### Seeking shelter from my form

#### Moving silently through the streets,

#### I hunt them; they are mine

"After hunting for a time, she enters the White Heart missionary, where she had been staying. She spends time viewing some of the chapel's paintings, and she ponders a course of action. Then she goes on to the burning at Silent Hands. That's a couple of hours before midnight.

"The second act is the Pale Siren trying to figure out what happened." Yvette marched up to Mary authoritatively. "She goes around interrogating the people and tracking things. Oh, we need a tenor for this."

Vivian said, "Don't look at me. Rap, can you do tenor?"

"I can, but don't really like to. I don't know the words, anyway."  
Yvette said, "Oh, it's really easy. We'll just do a line or two to give the feel."

Vivian said, "What about if we do alto and coloratura soprano—move everything up an octave?"

"Well, our coloratura is somewhat out of sorts." Yvette rolled her eyes toward Sister Mary.

Sister Mary said, "Sorry. There's probably another Xandrian still up. Perhaps Zepharine."

Rapture said, "Well, I could do it." The others looked at her. "But I still don't know the words so I guess not."  
Yvette said, "Really?

"Really what?"

"You can really sing tenor and full range coloratura— _Xandrian_ coloratura, the full octave shift?"

"Well, mezzo is my best range."

Vivian said, "She had formal training—at a human school."

Yvette still looked perplexed. "Yeah, but still, I didn't know a Godiva could do that. So ... Dee seven, half notes, no problem—modal register?"

Rapture shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know. I just did some at Mackenzie's."

Yvette said, "I want to hear this. Here, I'll sing your part once then you can repeat with me and go coloratura when you want.

#### Stronger than you know

#### I will crush the greatest demons

#### And cast radiance upon shadows that remain

Yvette sung the stanza a few times.

Rapture sang with her then sang it Xandrian coloratura.

Yvette clasped her hands over her heart, her expression now wistful. "Wow, Rap. That was incredible. Hugh. The second act starts at midnight. The Pale Siren goes to the White Heart mission and studies the paintings for clues. She reads the psychic aura from one of them." Yvette laid her palm on the poster and closed her eyes as if to concentrate. "The Siren finds the White Heart Priest flayed and imagines what happened there.

#### I feel the flow, the hallowed pain

#### Like fiery serpent spitting flame

The act ends when the Siren realizes what the Banshee is about to do and races to stop her." Yvette moved quickly at Vivian.

Vivian said, "Then the chorus is repeated allegretto. It is in sirenic. There is a phonetic translation included in the manuscript. I don't have it memorized, but it is really bombastic. The rest of the script is in human, so I guess the point of the sirenic chorus is to give it that extra ...."

Yvette asked, "Passion?"

Vivian said, "Drama. It seems like White Heart had some courageous plans for this symphony. I heard they were even going to try recording it on a receptacle. Anyway, act three is the fight between the two."

Vivian and Yvette pretended to spar.

"It is difficult with all of the singing in rounds and dissonance. After the Siren defeats the Banshee, it goes into a closing scene." Vivian lay down on the floor. "It is so long and agonizing. Some call it a separate movement or act. They named it Transcendence. Basically, the Pale Siren reveals that they are sisters. Then the Banshee cries and laments her life, finding peace.

#### Don't leave me in disgrace

#### The sins of man are all I ever known

#### Only your sirenic tears can heal my wounds so deep

"Then the chorus repeats a bunch of times with small variations. Finally, the Banshee succumbs to the realization of her smallness. The last stanza is from inside Banshee's fading mind:

#### Take me home

#### Before First Love faded

#### Before Baptism of Stains jaded

# Chapter 48

Talon's Lair

Visor pulled the reigns.

The horses whinnied and stopped, along with the carriage they pulled.

Rapture sat beside him, nervous but glowing and beautiful as always.

Talon's watermill looked just as Cespenar had shown them.

Burke's reconnaissance had proven helpful in completing missing details.

Talon's thugs approached the wagon. "Let's see what you brought."

Visor pulled back a curtain to reveal a cage that contained a bound and disheveled Ranie, along with a bound female alfanar. The girls cowered together in a corner opposite a vicious Burke, who was attached to a cage bar by a collar and short chain.

Rapture's bodyguard rode on top of the cage.

Two men were chained and walking behind the cage-wagon. They were associates of Ranie, additional prizes for Talon.

The thug asked, "And the next one?"

A second wagon trailed Visor's. Athian and Evan sat on the front bench.

Visor said, "He is my lead minstrel. She's my head chef." The wagon was full of cooking gear and instruments. Other people walked and rode behind—his tracker, his medic, an assistant cook and some musicians.

Two additional thugs met them just down the road. They escorted the wagons into a covered parking and assembly area just outside the watermill.

Talon's vampire questioned a few of Visor's entourage and reported to a lead thug. "All truthful, and consistent enough. They are here to trade prisoners for a cut of the reward, and information on the location of the Catalyst."

The party started. Food was served. Evan and her helpers were liberal with the ale and expensive spirits. The band played, letting some of Talon's musically inclined henchmen join them.

Talon sat at the head table along with his vampire, difference siren, and other lieutenants.

The ogres sat in the back of the room, stuffing themselves.

Visor intermittently monitored Talon's guards on the balconies. They disappeared from view one at a time, quietly. When they were gone, Visor had Rapture change songs and fill the room with libido-stoking pheromones.

Visor signaled Ranie, which set off a prescribed chain of events.

Visor signed to his unseen ninja to take position near the vampire and Talon.

Visor's mistrals danced to center stage, along with Rapture. Her dress fell to the floor. Many eyes were drawn to the stage.

An ogre wailed and writhed. An arrow stuck out of his rounded gut.

Visor pulled Rapture to her knees, using his body and wooden stage props to shield her. Visor's minstrels formed a defensive perimeter around Rapture.

Ranie's alfanar fired another arrow into the same ogre.

The ogre stopped moving.

Evan distributed weapons from hidden compartments within the wagons. Evan's crew protected Ranie's alfanar and another sniper, who stood on the wagons, giving them good line of site to Talon's troops.

Talon and his lieutenants organized a unit and moved to attack Visor's minstrels. Talon's difference siren loosed an ear-blasting wail.

Rapture screamed a sonic cancellation.

A blur of shadow and metal appeared among Talon's group.

Talon's unit screamed and fell as Sorana cut them to pieces. The route was on as thugs scampered out of doorways and windows.

A woman with a half of a face appeared and hovered over the melee. Her clothing was plain, dull gray, and tattered. Skin covered about half of her skeletal body, the rest being covered by a shiny metal decorated with intricate gold designs and tiny lights. It emitted a horrific, multi-frequency wail that stopped Visor's heart and caused the watermill to crumble and collapse.

A number of large stones fell on Visor. As he lay trapped, Visor looked up at what he knew to be the Mortal Banshee—not with awe or anger, but only with pity.

A feminine rider on a two-horned horse flew into view, carrying a shining lance. The Pale Siren pierced the Mortal Banshee through the heart.

The Banshee screamed. The Banshee and the Pale Siren reached for each other and blended together in a swirl of light, eventually fading into the cosmic sea of the night sky.

## ***************

Wow! That was certainly a vivid and ... organized dream. Visor took a moment to convince himself that he was really in Ranie's guestroom and that they had not attacked Talon's watermill. He tried to concentrate, but the details faded as his body became very aware of Sorana's figure curled up next to him, so small and perfect. One of her hands was touching his cheek. He propped himself up on an elbow and shook his head.

Sorana shimmied under him. "Melt into me."

A time later, screaming snapped him out of a haze. It was Evan. "Cold-natured—that's bullshit! If you're cutting again, Ima kick your ass!"

That was from the next door room. More arguing between Evan and Ranie ensued. He held still, wishing he couldn't hear. A door slammed and a woman was left crying.

Visor asked, "Which one is that?"

Sorana wrote in Vardal-somata on his back, _I don't know._

"I have to go check. It might be Evan."

Go.

Visor put on a robe and pushed open the already-cracked door of the next room. It made noise and the woman stopped crying. It was Ranie. Crap. He spoke apologetically. "I had this sudden thought about the Quenton rescue, but it can wait."

Ranie stared at her lap. "And you thought to ask me?"

"Well, I heard voices and thought since people were up anyway ..."

"Yeah." She made a disgusted sigh and shook her head.

"Do you want to wait until morning?"

Ranie did not look at him. "What does it matter? You'll do what you want anyway."

Visor wanted to leave, but didn't. He sat on the bed, leaving a space between them. "I need something that will make Talon want to meet."

Ranie let out a big sigh. "He is a bounty hunter. The biggest bounties nowadays involve the Dodelige."

"So we need to make him think we have information, or access to a member."

"Or we could have actual custody of a member."

"And you know one?"

"The Dodelige is not as dead as is commonly thought." She rubbed her thigh absently.

"Ranie, I'm sorry."

"No, you're not."

"Well, I'm sorry you are this upset now."

"What? Do you think it's about you?"

"No—well, I wouldn't know. It's just ... if there's anything I can do—"

Ranie became animated. "Oh! Anything you can do? Really!"

"Evan is my sister, and you're her friend. I know you are upset at me, but I—"

Ranie leaned close to his face and sneered. "I'm not upset at you!" She let out a long, gentle sigh. "Evan and I—she worries about me."

"Does she need to?"

"Probably, and sometimes I worry about her. Her headaches in the morning ... sometimes, it seems like she is a different person ...." She shook her head. "Did you know that there is no measureable difference in intelligence quotients between men and women?"

"I guess I don't feel like I have enough information to comment."

"I do. That's what I do for Finnur. I'm the specialist in psychology of women. My area of focus is how men and women differ in their application of empathy and logic in social dynamics. That requires me to explore intelligence. And I've found that if you use regression analysis to correct for race and education, the measured difference in intelligence is not statistically meaningful."

"Okay. Well, you're the smartest person I've ever known. I will grant you that."

Ranie pursed her lips and looked away. "I'm acutely aware of that. I know what I am, and what I am not."

"What are you not?"

"Do you think intelligence—analytical acuity—is a good thing in a woman?"

"Well, yeah. Intelligence is a strong predictor of success—the strongest, once a society reaches a critical mass of population, and the corresponding development of technological and social sophistication."

"I see. So that's why you're with Rap?"

"Well, she learns things differently than we do. She's a siren."

"Oh, come on, Donnie. Even for a Godiva, she's slow."

"Well, how do you measure—it doesn't matter anyway; we are bound."

"Really? Can you be so blind?" Ranie let out an exasperated sigh. "That's not even what I meant to get into. Look, I ..." Ranie scooted to the edge of the bed and positioned her feet side by side. She pulled up her gown so that her right thigh was exposed all the way up to her hips. Her right leg had a number of cross scars. They were carefully aligned and in different stages of healing. The latest was possibly a day old.

"Ranie ... why—what is this from?"

"No one knows the psychiatric reasons. They vary from person to person, and most of them are very unflattering."

"Person to person?"

"It's not as rare as one might think." She lowered her gown. "It's easier to describe physiologically. It's like a reverse itch. You scratch an itch because your brain detects a discomfort in your body, such as an insect toxin or lack of circulation. Your brain gives an instruction to scratch to relieve the discomfort. With cutting, your brain is in discomfort, and you cut to relieve the discomfort in your brain."

"Does it help?"

"Does scratching help?"

"Most of the time. Sometimes the itch comes right back. Sometimes it goes away. If you over-scratch or scratch off a scab, it can make things worse."

"Sometimes people do things that only make sense to them. And some people deal with things better than others." Ranie's head was slumped. "How do you do it, Donnie?"

"Do what, Ranie?"

"Day in and day out, with everyone, explaining everything time and again, listening to idle chatter, petty bickering, insipid dribble about soccer tournaments and politics—this endless, moronic pandering?"

"I know what you mean, but I guess it doesn't bother me as much as it does you. I don't know. I make time to read. I vary my free time. When I am in a situation where I'm stuck waiting on someone to catch on, I make a game of figuring out what I can do to help them understand from their point of view. I don't know if I do any good, but it helps pass the time."

"I mean, don't get me wrong, I love your sister to death, but sometimes it would just be nice to have a conversation that is two ways—to learn something from someone else. And I don't mean to pick on her. It's my professors, those other students ... you must know what I mean."

"I also spend time at the alchemist's. Well, I used to before the assault of WaterCrescent. Maybe it was easier for me because I had access to everything, with my brother as the Castellan. I could delve into whatever caught my interest. Of course, you have something similar, being involved with the university. They've got to have some research you can get involved in. I mean something more than what your job requires, maybe something in a completely different area."

"I have done something like that." She turned toward Visor and looked up at him with soft eyes. "Why do you think we are like this, Donnie?"

"Who knows? Our diet as children? Maybe some fish that only grew around our farmstead. Maybe it was all the rounds of _Enigma_. Early exercise could help the brain develop the way muscles do."

She smiled, sort of. "We did play that for hours. Our game. I'm glad you remember."

Why are you surprised I'd remember Enigma?

"What do you remember about the weeks before you left for WaterCrescent?"

"It was pretty busy trying to pack things up—saying all the goodbyes."

"I always thought, for such a long time, that you would send for me, or one of the times you came back, you would stay. Even when you started the binding to Rap, I figured it was just a matter of time—two or three years." She placed her hands on his temples. She closed her eyes and leaned in.

Visor tensed.

Ranie opened her eyes and pulled back. "What is Rapture like? What does she feel like?"

"She's fine."

"Do you want to tell me about her? You can show me how you do things with her." She moved his hand to her hip.

This was so awkward. Visor pinned her hand. "You are so brilliant. And you are young and pretty."

Ranie's expression transformed into a scowl. She jerked her hands back, stood up and turned away from him.

Visor stood and gently touched her shaking shoulders. "Ranie—"

She spoke in forced wheezes between silent sobs. "This would be so much ... easier if you ... would just let me hate you."

"What would be easier?"

Ranie broke into sardonic laughter. She buried her face in her hands. "Banshee Mortel, that was so stupid. I could never play you. And it still doesn't work."

What?

She looked up at the ceiling and wiped tears from her eyes. "Dammit, Donnie ... Advisor to Mourning, Rescuer of Sirens, you are no longer a boy."

"Some might disagree with you."

"She suffers the torments of the AciesMagus and emerges without a single scar. I can't even ..." Ranie said something that was either mumbled or a language he didn't know.

"Rap has a certain strength of character."

"She has you." Ranie composed herself and faced him. "I would like to—I need to show you my work."

"Okay. Did you want to measure my intelligence?"

"Not that work."

# Chapter 49

Enigma

Visor and Ranie put on outer wear and made their way two doors down to Emily's house of entertainment. It was cool outside in the wee morning hours. The warmth of Emily's was comforting.

They interspersed a round of _Enigma_ between other conversations to pass the time. Visor said, "Two hour glasses, calibrated to seven and four minutes, needing to measure nine minutes, how many turns would—"

"Three." Emily's first floor was a bar and grill. Ranie waived to a waitress. "Hello, Amanda. Nine toothpicks, how many equilateral triangles could—"

"Seven." The two stopped at the top of the cellar stairs. It was only wide enough for one, and a young lady already coming up from below. Visor helped her off of the rickety stairs.

"Where have you been, cuttie-lover?" The lady smiled at him and brushed her hindquarters against him as she passed—her version of a 'thank you'.

"Well, you're very welcome". Visor helped Ranie onto the stairs. "Same hour glass setup—how many turns would you need to prepare for a one-armed cartographer to measure the nine minutes?"

"Do you mean you can stop the sand flow by turning it on its side?"

"Yeah, sorry." The cellar was a casino. A clear container that hung from the ceiling housed a brown snake with black stripes. It was probably a viper. Visor almost lost his footing on something wet at the base of the stairs.

"Three and a half. This is Maxon's Game Room." They navigated through Maxon's game tables and distracted patrons. A decorated door in the back led to another section of the basement. It branched off to several private rooms. Ranie took Visor into one.

A woman with orange hair and too much pink makeup sat behind a desk. "Well good evening, Ranie."

"Ryona." Ranie nodded. "How's business?"

"Well enough. We capped two thousand last night. Are you looking for some company tonight? For your friend?"

"Just passing through."

Ryona took them to a sub-cellar storage room. She unlatched a door and held it for them to pass. "Don't be a stranger."

Ranie led the way into the sewers. "An alfanar, a vardal and an ogre, after traveling from their respective homes on a cold day, walk into a high end bar and order tea."

"If this is a word play, you have to call it."

"I know, Donnie. It's not word play, there's no extraneous information and it has a real answer. I just wish you remembered how we used to play."

What do you mean by that?

"The sirenic bartender says that she has tea, but they'll have to use their own cups. They do, and exactly one of them ends up thanking the bartender twice. If you cross to the left side, you can avoid—"

Visor's boot sank below the surface of the shallow water. There was a hole in the concrete, and something squishy was in the hole.

Ranie said, "That."

"Well, it is a sewer."

"And storm drain. Luckily, it rained yesterday. This is as fresh as it gets." As he worked his boot free, she fluffed her hair and pulled locks forward over her shoulders. It hung over her chest to her lower abdomen. She turned into a side passage. "This way." They passed by a bum that studied Visor intently. Ranie was unalarmed by the bum's presence.

"The ogre."

"There was a time, generations ago, when the Dodelige and White Heart competed for the religious affiliation of the people."

"I thought it was my turn."

"Imagine two religions with similar messages competing for followers, the tithes, and the support of the Symphonic Knights."

"It seems most don't believe the churches were so similar."

"History is written by the victor. White Heart proved the more powerful—or at least the more aggressive. When the competition started in earnest, key members of the Dodelige had fatal 'accidents'. Their facilities were looted and destroyed, and records lost. Their property was seized. The Dodelige was characterized as demonic and outlawed. That was used as an excuse to have a center of Dodelige scripture, the burned Silent Hands church, cordoned off. They call it the birth place of evil, vilifying Mortal Banshee in the process.

"The White Heart decided that a guarded fence was not enough. They built a mission, the Silent Oratory, over the Silent Hands church. They call it a mission, but the Oratory is a fortress in design and function. It is rumored that the Silent Hands church remains intact in the innermost sanctum of Oratory.

"It is vitally important to the White Heart to keep outsiders away from Silent Hands. The greatest threat to their power is the truth. Do you know the words of Wescott's prediction of Uncreation?"

Visor said, "The predictions aren't clearly documented. I understand it is something like 'How will Mortal Banshee end the world?'"

"Exactly—it is not publicly documented. If the predictions were all documented together, even an ogre could see the contradictions."

"Such as?"

"The prediction of Uncreation is numerated as the third Banshee prediction. What is the first prediction?"

"The prediction of Conception."

"Which answers what?"

"Well, the question is not clear, but it describes the circumstances of the Mortal Banshee's birth."

"Wescott was initially commissioned to determine the fate of Mortal Banshee. Her body was never confirmed found, even though it was widely assumed she died in the fire. Why would Wescott ask how Mortal Banshee was born?"

"I guess that doesn't make sense."

"No, it doesn't. He first asked exactly what any reasonable oracle would: 'How did Mortal Banshee die?' Since she hadn't died, the prediction answered how she would likely die. That is Uncreation. Conception; Immortality; Uncreation; Demise—that is the White Heart enumeration of Mortal Banshee predictions. The real order was Uncreation; Immortality; Conception; Demise; Deception."

"Deception?"

"It isn't included as a prediction of Mortal Banshee because it basically just confirms Demise. It also wasn't by Wescott."

"I do agree that the White Heart Enumeration is not in the order of Wescott's asking. The predictions just aren't that well documented, at least that I've seen."

"So whatever the White Heart says is the truth."

They came to a wooden door. It was water damaged but solid.

Another bum sat across from the door. He was more conspicuous than the first. He stood at their approach and regarded Visor warily. He slipped a hand inside his vest, apparently gripping something solid.

Ranie said, "Pale Siren crosses the Aurora Bridge to the Solar Sea. This is Visor." Ranie leaned toward Visor. "I do a lot of research for the Dodelige and they are used to my face."

"One might recognize your hair as well."

The bum looked Visor up and down, moved to the door and knocked. A slot opened, some words were exchanged, and a heavy latch was moved on the other side. Once past the door, Ranie took them to a vestibule where they changed into dry, matching robes and slippers.

Visor said, "It sounds like White Heart numbered the predictions in chronological order. I agree that it's inaccurate, but I don't think that necessary means they are trying to hide something.

Ranie led him up some stairs into a warehouse. "The words of Uncreation were something like 'How did the Mortal Banshee die?' It was perverted by the White Heart into 'How does the Mortal Banshee destroy the world?'"

"But isn't the end result the same? I mean, if she dies in the process of destroying the world, who cares?"

"But she doesn't destroy it! She uncreates it. It's completely different." Ranie led him to a roped-off display case. She held up the rope for him to pass under and gestured toward a scroll pressed behind a piece of glass. "See for yourself."

# Chapter 50

Uncreation

Visor read:

**THE ACCOUNT** **. Herein lies my account of the sale of the Ring of Uncreation, the receptacle of Wescott's Prophecy of Uncreation. Common belief is that the recording was effected from the question "How did the Mortal Banshee die?"**

**THE TRANSCRIPT** **. My view was obstructed because my viewing was not authorized. I could hear the recording clearly. I believe my record of the words to be accurate. I produced my first draft of the writing minutes after witnessing the projection. I trust my recollection, as this made quite the impression on me.**

**THE RING** **. The receptacle appeared to be a ring. The ring had a large, blue gemstone, surrounded by smaller gemstones. The blue gemstone was lightly colored—perhaps a blue diamond, aquamarine or sapphire. The ring setting appeared to be platinum. An artist sketch is attached.**

**THE ACTORS** **. I was only aware of myself, Wescott, the buyer, and an unseen creature. The buyer was a woman of no more than average build. Her face was obscured by clothing and dim lighting. I had a friend draw the attached sketch. I suppose the unseen creature to be a large tiger or lion based on the sounds I heard.**

**THE CONSIDERATION** **. The buyer paid with coins and a collection of a few dozen figurines. One was a white horse miniature, which I was able to view intimately at a later date. It had two horns. The workmanship was remarkable. The clay was put into the kiln with davits around the collar, horns, hooves, and saddle. Some of the davits were filled with gems in various setting material. A painting is attached.**

**THE ACTIVATION** **. I don't know how they were able to project the receptacle's image. It appeared only the buyer touched the Ring. There may well have been a hidden pixie, given my obstructed view.**

**THE RECORDING** **. A lone figure in very fine, if not bridal, clothing knelt on the crest of a muddy hill. The sky was dark and filled with rain. The land was featureless and the ground was only gray mud. The figure had long hair soaked from the rain. Lacking lighting and terrain reference, I am unable determine the figure's gender or race visually. The voice pitch and content of the message identifies the speaker as female.**

**"** **Galron Mettleheart, Paladin of Bahamut, Lord and Master of the Amaranthine Alliance and Protector of the Same, and My Immortal Beloved,**

**I speak to you as the world dies all around. That which we nurtured all the years of our life together has been twisted and corrupted since your passing. And now, at the end of all things, I am alone. It is left to me to pay the price.**

**[Lightning flashed. Because of the rain and unreflective gray mud, I could only determine that her outer clothing was not brightly colored. Perhaps it was some shade of blue or gray.]**

**Our Union, peerless and invincible, was forged in the infernal flames of Belial's layer. The demon lord created a reality breech, and through it, invaded our world. You and I were chosen to lead the counter attack. During our incursion, we were hunted relentlessly by hoardlings of the Fourth Layer. To survive in the midst of the tempest, we were forced to drop our mutual defenses and rely on each other's strength. It was utterly impossible, a palad- [Thunder masked several seconds of verbiage] – is the truth. It was in the stillness on the Eve before the Final Assault on the palace of Belial that I stared into your eyes so blue, and you whispered the words so sacred, "Marry me, Sparkling Angel of Gray".**

**And together we vanquished the Lord of the Fourth and returned to Esselin to marry. Our Union rippled throughout the populace to unite the races in a lasting peace. As gods, we reshaped the world to our will. It was orderly. It was good.**

**But your reign was too short. Without you, the Alliance fractured. Vardal and nymph turned against alfanar. The race of alfanar was lost. Without her caretakers, Mother Earth herself began to die.**

**I was lost in arrogance, and lost your legacy: the Alliance, our ch- [Thunder]. I once said that I would trade the world for you, and as fate would have it, that has become reality. But it cannot be this way. And therefore, I must undo the best and only purely good thing that happened in my life. I speak these words of Uncreation, and send them across reality to undo what was once done. Our Union shall never be.**

**With all the love that is left in the wor- [Thunder] -nd your Sparkling Angel of Gray"**

Visor said, "So the Uncreation saves the world."

Ranie said, "Mortal Banshee sacrifices her own happiness to save the world."

"She's talking to someone in her past—Mettleheart. Do you know who that is?"

"We haven't been able to figure that out yet. We have made inquiries at the paladin hood."

"Presumably, this prediction did not take place in Wescott's time. For an alliance to be formed, Mettleheart to die, and the alliance to fail, and an epic war to finish—that would be many years, probably generations."

"So you read that he died at an old age. That's how we interpret it."

"If Mettleheart were not alive at the time of Wescott, then that would make the prediction meaningless. Even given that Wescott was an exceptional Oracle, even the best ever, it is way too far in the future. There are too many variables. Once you get past a generation, the only meaningful predictions are generalities that depend on long term population trends. Just your asking questions at the paladin hood will alter things. If the Uncreation didn't already happen, then it probably never will."

"I know that, Donnie. But the importance of the message is not the accuracy of a love story. The importance is what it says about Mortal Banshee."

"According to the best information Wescott had at the time, this was the most likely way the Mortal Banshee would die. That means she's immortal."

"Ageless, at least. That would be the simplest interpretation, but what precedence do we have for an ageless humanoid? She could be a cloning siren, or perhaps a telepath that passes her experiences to younger hosts. What else?"

"She understands how predictions work. She wasn't just lamenting mistakes. She specifically understands that what she said would likely have an effect on actions—which is an odd thing to say since it is only history from her perspective, or rather Wescott's interpretation of her possible future perspective. She must be a telepath to have figured all that out."

"Or just very experienced or well-informed and intelligent. It is likely she had advisors, given her station. But there is a more basic message here. What does it say about Mortal Banshee herself?"

"Off hand? She probably spoke human since the scribe did not say otherwise. She could not hold an alliance together without Mettleheart. She loved a paladin."

Ranie rolled her extended pointer fingers around each other. "And?"

"Mettleheart loved her."

"Exactly—a paladin loved her. She is a good soul."

"Unless 'paladin' has a different meaning in that future or if he is a fallen paladin."

"A fallen paladin that destroyed the Lord of the fourth and formed an 'orderly and good' alliance?"

"'Orderly and good' could be her perception."

"Possibly, but the basic nature of this message is self-sacrificing. She is a good soul."

"Ranie, what are you getting at? This can't be a case of mistaken identity. Wescott asked about the Mortal Banshee, which by definition is the creature that burned the Silent Hands church."

"I know. This is the same person that did some horrible things. But the only written records provide a few views of what happened and no insights as to why they happened. We don't know much at all about the circumstances of her actions at the Silent Hands. There is almost no information on the victims. What if they weren't so innocent?"

"It's hard to imagine what would justify what she did."

"They could have been plague carriers. They could have been part of a cult that sacrificed people or had plans to overthrow Raykez. She could have been compelled or temporarily insane. It might have been an accident. She could have been tricked, brainwashed or drugged. It is typical of the Paragon to have someone else do their dirty work and then use them as a scapegoat. We don't know, but you must be open to the possibility. Donnie, I believe there is more to the story, and that some injustice has been done. The Dodelige believes the White Heart's Paragon has something to do with this. And we know that the Paragon hides secrets under the Silent Oratory."

Visor gestured at the scroll. "This could change ... a great deal."

"Yes, the truth could. But in the end, this is a piece of paper. It would be too easily discredited by the Paragon. Anyone can write a scroll. And releasing it would tip off the Paragon to a threat. Many lives would be in danger."

"So you're waiting for something."

"Yes."

"You're looking for the Ring."

"Finding the Ring of Uncreation would put the Dodelige in a much stronger position. The recording of Wescott's prediction would be indisputable. The lies exposed would cast doubt on everything the White Heart claims."

"Men would kill over this."

"Men would kill for a pouch of gold coins. And the members of the Paragon, the inner circle of White Heart, are the epitome of evil. This is more in line with mass infanticide."

"You didn't say 'for instance'."

"No, I didn't."

"Ranie, you can't be serious."

Ranie began walking. "There are communities in Worthington Estates and Silver Wolf Pack Lands that still practice Dodelige tradition. There are others, such as the vardal communities in the Seat of Clutch, that don't prescribe to either religion. As it stands now, they are far enough from Raykez proper that the Paragon leaves them alone. A declaration of heresy would be an unnecessary step. But if they knew that the Ring of Uncreation might be found, the risk equation would be shifted. To assure their hold on power, the Paragon can't have free-thinking communities close to Raykez. You have to realize how ruthless these men are. All they care about is power. The Dodelige has spies within the White Heart, and we know they have performed very real studies concerning community-wide infanticide."

"Do you have proof? Can you identify the specific perpetrators? I mean, the legal system is great and all, but if you know who and when, we can't let that happen."

"Obtaining conclusive proof has eluded us. The Paragon is a tight knit group of privileged men. They protect each other."

"Whom do you most suspect?"

"It's hard to say. It's difficult to even name the members. But if I were to guess, I'd have to go with Idiamin or Ivan. Their names seem to pop up most often when we get information about the genetic research. Of course, I don't think much gets done without the approval of Joseph. He has ties to Talon."

"Why am I not surprised?"

# Chapter 51

Renaurd

Visor and Ranie came to an array of figures arranged on a grid on a wooden board. It was similar to a chess arrangement, but the pieces were different.

Ranie said, "It is an Archon set. It is a game described in some Dodelige documents."

"Are the rules the same as Chess?"  
"In that it is turn-based, but the pieces have different movement rules. It takes place on a seven-by-seven grid, as you see. Some of the grids sections are designated power squares. Controlling all of the power squares can win you the game. Portions of the board wax or wan with each round. A square's shade affects the strength of pieces in combat."

"Combat?"

"When pieces meet, there isn't a preset result. The Dodelige text describes an interactive battle. We assume they had real people duel or spar to represent the battle between the pieces. We're not so elaborate, of course. We roll dice. You get more or bigger dice depending on the square color, your control of power squares, and the particular combination of pieces. All pieces are unique, and have at least one opponent they are particularly well-suited to battle. There are no pawns."

"Did you say 'bigger' dice?

"Yes, bigger dice allow you to pummel your opponent more effectively." Ranie smirked. "By 'bigger', I mean a die with more sides—eight, twelve, or twenty."

"No four-sided?"

"Doch, of course there is."

"The Platonic bodies.

"It sounds like you might have a challenger, Ranie." A man's voice came from behind Visor. A figure wearing a matching Dodelige robe approached. He was perhaps in his early fifties. His facial hair was neatly cut to a short-moderate length.

"How are you tonight, Renaurd?" Ranie took brisk steps to Renaurd and laid her palm on his cheek. "This is Visor. I brought him here to show him some things I've been working on for you."

Renaurd was lost in thought momentarily. "Welcome, Visor. I run this place—or try to."

"The Archon board or the Dodelige?"

Renaurd laughed. "Oh, just the Dodelige. Archon is all Ranie's."

"Is she good?"

"Good?" Renaurd huffed. "Does the nightingale sing? She never loses, even when she plays the Dodelige."

Visor said, "You have tournaments?"

"Sorry—I wasn't clear." Renaurd gestured toward Ranie. "Ranie ... plays the Dodelige." He gestured widely. "She's played six simultaneous games. In her game against me, it was the most incredible thing. I thought I finally had her with Peace takes Fallen. But then from nowhere—"

Renaurd and Ranie spoke together. "Rampant Chaosse takes Pale Siren." She smiled smugly.

Renaurd looked on wistfully. "That was the first and only time I made a Pale Siren promotion against her. She purposefully stretched out that game. She baited the power squares to get the Rampant Chaosse."

"That was the only game with two promotions, at least in live competition."

Renaurd said, "Some of the pieces can be promoted under certain circumstances, siren to Pale Siren, Chaosse to Rampant Chaosse, Banshee to—you know, and so on."

Visor said, "Yeah, I taught her how to do that."

"Well maybe you can teach her how to wash the floors." Renaurd laughed. "The associates are falling behind on their duties." He pointed out a dirt-smudged section of flooring.

Visor grunted in uncomfortable agreement.

Renaurd dug in his pocket. "Say, Visor, I was wondering if you could clear something up for me." He removed a rounded object and proffered it to Visor.

Visor held it. It was a stone with the entire surface cut into diamond shaped faces. "It's a thirty-sided die."

"Believe it or not, I'd figured that much out. But I never understood why it wasn't one of the dice we use for Archon. All of the faces come together evenly at the vertexes, just like the others."

"Yeah, the vertices touch the same number of faces so the distribution is similar."

"And they're all the same shape. Why isn't it a Platonic?"

"Yeah." Visor knelt down and rolled the die. "Oh, I remember now. They have to be regular polygons, so diamonds don't count."

"Ah, I didn't know that."

Ranie seemed pleased.

Renaurd said, "Well, I'll let you get back to what your tour. If you need anything from me, let me know. I'll be in my office."

Visor said, "Actually, I might. Has Ranie made you aware of the research she has been performing?"

Renaurd nodded thoughtfully. "Ah. Why don't we go to my office?" He led Visor down a hallway and into a side room.

Ranie closed the door and stood just inside.

Renaurd sat comfortably behind a desk and offered the visitor's chair to Visor. "Ranie has been invaluable to our effort. Her access to university resources and her tenacity have given us a much better understanding of past events. I haven't seen this kind of excitement among our parish in my life time."

"Yet, you've had some setbacks."

"Yes, it remains a difficult climb."

"The White Heart has you outlawed."

"They have many advantages."

"Not the least of which is the service of Talon."

"You seem to already know what we need."

"I am in the same room as the head of the Dodelige an hour after I learned it existed. I have expressed no interest in joining. I don't see how I present a threat. So it makes sense that I am about to be asked to perform a service."

"That would make sense."

"You want me to rescue Quenton."

"We don't have the means. I have it on good authority that you do."

"I may or may not have the time. I'll have—would have to study the options."

"We do have some funds. We have a collection of artifacts, some of which you might find interesting. Some of them have value in the market. We might have some information you'd be interested in."

Visor thought for a bit. "Actually, I have a different payment in mind—an exchange of services. Of course that would be in addition to operating expenses. But before we get into details, I have a question for you."

"I will try to answer."

"I take it you are up to speed on the Ring of Uncreation and suspicions about the activity of the Paragon?"

"I try to keep up with the goings-on, though I wouldn't be surprised if you could teach me something."

"The Paragon has done some questionable things."

"Yes, they have."

"It would be hard to compete with such an opponent while keeping your hands completely clean."

"Yes, it would be."

"Would it be hard enough, that the Dodelige would, say, have any remote involvement in a plot to harm a member of the Sanctuary?"

Renaurd let the question sink in. "The sirens are gentle creatures and we would never act to hurt them. We don't believe they are divinity, but we wouldn't harm beautiful, moral people."

"Did you hire Nicodemous to kill or harm a siren?"

"I am not familiar with a Nicodemous, but I can guarantee you that no one in the Dodelige would ever do such a thing. Frankly, I don't know why the White Heart or Paragon would either. They are often at odds with the Sanctuary politically, but killing a siren would be self-defeating, not to mention unthinkable. Perhaps a renegade like Attila, or one who was effectively above law."

Ranie asked, "Gaius?"

Renaurd nodded. "Possibly, but if so, there would be a strong response from other members. We'd probably hear about it. But certainly no one in this parish was involved."

Visor leaned forward. "I would like to hear the head of the Dodelige swear on that."

"Okay, I swear upon the existence of this parish and the life of my family that I have no knowledge of plots to harm sirens, and that I would do whatever I could to prevent one if I had knowledge of it. Is that good enough?"

"The words are right, but I would like to hear the head of the Dodelige swear on that."

Renaurd leaned back and folded his hands in his lap.

Ranie walked up behind Visor. She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned over so that her hair tickled his neck. "I swear."

# Chapter 52

Serene Knight Gwendolyn

Visor woke up about noon and worked on arrangements for water transport to Eurydice and Quenton's rescue. It was late afternoon before he got by the Sanctuary to pick up Rapture. Sister Mary invited him for a walk in the zoo while he waited. He brought her up to speed on the situation with Nicodemous.

Mary gripped Visor's arm, indicating she was ready to move on. "I thank you for bringing this matter to us. I'm sure the Knights of the Moon will look into it."

"We will." The fully armored Serene Knight Gwendolyn walked behind them. She appeared a powerful woman in the full plate suit. "Murder conspiracy is no small matter. If you should find out any more information, we would use it. You can contact any Moon Knight. Word will reach me."

Visor guided the trio to the mountain lion exhibit. "Gwendolyn, that is a unique style of armor. It's real, functional full plate, yet decorated and shaped to flatter."

"It was shaped for me. It is harmonic metal, composed and forged by Yngvie. It's effective enough, but it's thin in areas." She tapped her breastplate just below her sternum. It made a hollow sound. "He was too interested in the art."

"Yngvie?"

Mary said, "A master vardal smithy, seen by some as the greatest composer of his era. He also happened to be a great concert master. His compositions were skewed to highlight the concert master role. The overall quality of his works suffered. The quality of metal is remarkable, but the proportions are sometimes lacking."

"That's right, the vardal smithy process requires a team."

Mary said, "An ensemble is a vardal group that forges metallic gear. An ensemble has at least a composer, concert master and intonist."

"It's too bad there wasn't an intonist he got along with."

Mary said, "That has been a point of scholarly debate more than once."

Gwendolyn said, "The Bright Steen."

Mary said, "The intonist Sara Brightsteen was a capable contemporary of Yngvie. Given her style, some argue that had the two collaborated, they could have brought us into the symphonic era decades earlier. As it was, she ended up floating between ensembles, never fully dedicating herself to the art."

Gwendolyn said, "There were dedicated intoists."

Mary said, "Liza Gerard, for one. But with scrutiny, some conclude the style and personalities would have conflicted."

Visor stopped at the exhibit wall. There were a number of mountain lions out. "I don't understand—is he still forging or not?"

Mary held out a hand for a mountain lion to sniff. "Long dead, I would assume."

Visor addressed Gwendolyn. "But you said the armor was made for you. Did you just mean that by chance it happened to fit very well?"

Gwendolyn looked to Mary.

Mary nodded.

"It was made for one of my ancestors." Gwendolyn removed her helm. Her skin was naturally tan and her eyes dark brown, but her hair was bleached white, except near the root. Her lips had a natural gloss. Despite her femininity, her musculature was apparent in her neck and cheek structure. She was Visor's height. She stepped up to him, put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in close.

Visor inhaled deeply. A sense of well-being washed over him. "You're sirenic."

"Yep." Gwendolyn stepped back and replaced her helm.

"I haven't seen your strain."

"We're a split strain. Not allowed in Xandria."

"Rap mentioned that before. I forgot exactly what it means."

"In the Fracture, some strains split between banshee and siren. The splits aren't allowed in Xandria. We're mostly in Seven Angels."

"What strain is that?"

"Engelsrein. That was the name before the split. Now they call us Sky Heads. Our hair gets bleached by the sun."

Mary indicated she was ready to move on. "Gwendolyn is the only siren commissioned as a knight, or in any military capacity, at least within Raykez. We don't generally advertise that she is a siren." They walked under a tunnel formed of trees. The landscaping looked like the work of alfanar.

Gwendolyn said, "That's an interesting bow."

"Ninette." Visor gave it to her.

She aimed Ninette proficiently.

He gave her an arrow.

She knocked an arrow, placing the shaft on the outside of the Ninette's riser.

"You use an outside set."

"That's the way the Moon cavalry trains—with a thumb release."

"Oh, right, with the thumb, you'd position on the outside."

"It better-aligns the launch angle."

"And lets you fire around the horse's head."

Ninette's sight began to glow. "She glows, like Blitzkrieg." Gwendolyn pulled out her sword, a long sword with a sophisticated hand guard. She concentrated and the blade glowed. Blitzkrieg discharged a flicker of electricity.

Visor flicked Blitzkrieg's blade with a finger, creating a pleasing ping. "Nice."

Mary said, "Gwendolyn is an expert swordsman."

Visor put Ninette away. "I might be making a move against a bounty hunter in the near future. I could use an expert swordsman."

Mary slipped her hands around Visor's arm. "If the cause is just, I imagine the Moon Knights will assist you."

Visor led them toward the starfish exhibit. "It is Talon. I have reason to believe he is involved in abductions. I'm pretty sure the Com is involved as well, but Talon is the one actually holding the prisoners. He may also be involved in some other illegal activities."

Mary said, "He is. He has been summoned by the Sanctuary for questioning. He has ignored the summons. The sheriff has yet to put a warrant out on him. Kyle considers the evidence insufficient."

"Why not send the Moon Knights to arrest him?"

Gwendolyn said, "It's too risky."

Mary said, "They could arrest him if they could be certain to catch him. But if they set out to serve a Sanctuary warrant and he fled, it could turn into a complicated situation."

Gwendolyn said, "The Com might get involved. That would be a disaster."

Mary said, "The Sanctuary is supposed to be neutral. We don't officially oppose other organizations or get involved in the politics of Raykez. We are funded solely through donations precisely so that we aren't beholden to anyone."

Gwendolyn said, "The Symphonic Knights could take him if the sheriff would write the warrant."

Visor said, "So we need to get evidence for the sheriff. Or just kill him."

"The Knights of the Moon can't—well, if we—it isn't ..."

"It is preferable to get evidence," said Mary.

"But we can't." Gwendolyn huffed. "He gets away with it—always!"

"That is because he knows what we are going to do before we do. He is an oracle." Mary fixated on Visor. "It would take another oracle to catch him."

Visor did not meet her gaze. "Our action will take place in the next two weeks, if at all. Then we have to leave for another errand." It was late afternoon. "Shouldn't Rapture be out by now?"

Mary stared at him until they reached the starfish exhibit. "She should be along soon. Rapture stayed in my suite last night. She started to tell me about the day you met, but didn't get a chance to finish."

Visor touched the water above a bright orange starfish, causing ripples in the water. "I first noticed her during a break from a conference on carriage designs. We were in a breezeway, in a crowd of people. I suddenly couldn't breathe. I turned around and there she was, looking at me. We talked for a bit. Then all of the sudden, it was like I saw her all the time."

"You began an intimate relationship right away?"

"No, I mean that I saw her all around the keep and the courtyard. It was like, when she was anywhere in sight, I would notice her."

"Does her red hair stand out in WaterCrescent? Isn't it mostly brunette there?"

"Brunette is most common, but it wasn't that. It's colder up on the cliff. People wear hoods or bandanas over their heads. But she's still easy to spot. Obviously, if you see her walk, she has the limp. But even if not, she stands a little off center. Then there's her whole demeanor, when others are talking, she's calm, yet attentive—so bright and alive. And when she smiles ... it is with her eyes—her whole body. I guess she shifts a shoulder forward slightly, and tilts her head. And she either blows out one cheek or pushes her tongue against it. I never really thought about exactly what it is. Maybe it's just that her dimple on one side is less pronounced."

"But among other Godiva's, she blends in?"

"Not really. If they all have their hair down, hers is a little thicker and goes further down before the curls start. And the curls are softer. And then if you are close enough, you can see how she has the freckles a little lower on this side." Visor pointed to his left cheek.

"I hadn't noticed."

"Well, her hairline part is a little higher than others, and her skin tone is lighter. With that and with the freckles, she appears to be more pale, which you can see from a distance—well, at least humans can. And if you're up close, you can see that she holds her jaw more softly."

"I see. And how do I differ from, say, Lara?"

"Oh, well Lara's older, of course. I guess comparing you to Lara's daughter, though, I'd say she's perhaps a bit thinner. I can't tell if it's just because you're pregnant, though. She wears her hair tied back. She doesn't dress as nicely."

"But side by side, fresh out of the bath, and not pregnant, how would you tell us apart?"

"I don't know. I'd have to spend more time with you, I guess."

"I see. Rapture left you last night. Why?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know." Mary sat on the rocky edge of the exhibit and immersed her hand in the water. Some of the starfish shimmied toward it. "You were not honest with her—or yourself."

"I was—" He recovered himself. "Well, I'm at the mercy of the binding. You must know what I mean."

"I don't know. My bindings were described as 'natural' and 'meant to be' and 'perfect'. They were adoration more than devotion. Both my partners and I felt this way. Gwendolyn?"

"What? Oh, mine was like you say, Mary."

Mary said, "Perhaps it is because you are so oddly intelligent, Visor—the reason that yours is more analytical."

"Why do you say 'analytical'?"

"Analytical in that it sounds more like you made a conscious decision to love her—that you can lie to her."

"I didn't, Engel." The provocation faded from his mind—everything did. His lungs tightened. He turned to find Rapture approaching, escorted by a Moon Knight and Burke. She smiled. She was so beautiful.

# Chapter 53

Virtuosa

Evan leaned back on the back two legs of her chair. "Hey Meole."

Ranie took a sip of rum. "Yes, Ev?"

"Remember that time we kicked the shit outta Talon's thugs?"

"You mean two days ago, Ev?"

Evan laughed. "Yeah!" The _Virtuosa_ tilted on the leeward side of a wave and Evan fell backwards. "Ow! Dammit!" She rubbed the back of her head.

Up on the stage, Sorana spun and swept Athian's feet out from under him.

Athian rolled and whined on the mat. "Owww ... uuuung."

Cheers and groans went up from the crew of the _Virtuosa_ as money exchanged hands. The stage was retracted to the first deck. It could be raised through an opening to the main deck. Some of the crew on shift had gathered around the edge of the opening, referred to as 'the balcony'.

The one-legged Thorsius was easy to spot, sitting along the edge of the balcony. He winked at her. Ranie smiled in return. Thor lacked social graces, but he was nice enough to her—more respectful than most men, anyway.

Sorana took off her make-shift ear muffs. She accepted and downed a shot of some presumably alcoholic drink.

Ranie held out her hand to help Evan up. "They'll never tag her."

Evan said, "I could."

"You could barely stand up straight after your pounding last night."

"Well, Quenton missed me. I guess Talon didn't lock him up with the difference nymph after all. Where is the ho, anyway?"

"They're keeping Ursula, the _siren_ , in the medical bay."

"I might need you to take the pounding for the next few days. My monthly is starting, and I don't want Quenton turning gay."

Ranie spluttered a laugh. How could anyone not love Evan? "Ev, I don't even know where to start. First of all—eww. Secondly, regarding selective homo-erotic maritime behavior, I believe the reference is to extended military deployments. Our being on a ship doesn't mean he's going to suddenly 'turn' gay."

Another challenger was selected.

Someone took Sorana's cup. She replaced her earmuffs and blindfold. She tugged at her blindfold to prove it was in place. She faced the wall and took some sort of martial arts stance.

The challenger stepped up to the far end of the mat and got up on his tip-toes, as if that made him lighter.

One of his friends smacked the wooden floor, thinking he was drowning out the challenger's footsteps. Ranie was pretty sure the extra sonic waves only made it easier for Sorana to detect the challenger.

Ranie continued. "Thirdly, I'm sure you'll find a way to satisfy him."

"What's up with you? Are you all bummed out because Visor let your boss on board?"

"He's not my boss. Finnur's just my prof—never mind." Ranie grabbed Evan's left ringer finger and twirled the wooden promise ring back and forth. "Fourthly, he's wearing one of these too, you know."

"Oh, right."

"I would rather Finnur not be on the _Virtuosa_. But with his research on Ursula and Rapture, he shouldn't bother me too much. He says he's learned as much in the past week as he has in years at the university. He actually wants to be here." Ranie let out a frustrated groan. "I can't believe I promised a year of service for Quenton's rescue. Who would've though Donnie would actually do it?"

"I dunno. He pretty much does whatever he wants."

"Yeah, no kidding. Well, one week down—51 to go." Ranie took another sip. The rum was starting to work, dulling the headache caused by the crowd. "I can't be here."

"What?"

"Here, on this boat."

"What are you talking about? You've had too much again."

The challenger started tip-toeing across the mat.

"No." Ranie focused. It took more concentration to lie. "I mean that I can't be here because I have too much to do back home. We had all the renovations planned for the house. All that money will be wasted. The materials are going to be ruined or used somewhere else by the time we get back to it. And remember my Archon club was preparing for the tournament against the White Heart."

"So, can't Renaurd run that? It's just a game." Evan coughed. "You can play with your friends in the next one."

"Yes, Renaurd can run it."

Evan sighed wistfully. "Just too bad Talon wasn't home. Ida been all mmf ... mmf!" She made some boxing motions.

"You would have had to have been there, too."

The challenger closed in on Sorana. She spun, ducked, and tapped him in the belly with a closed fist. She downed another drink and conversed with a crewman that was handling her cut of the winnings.

Someone lit some incense sticks. He was trying to mask the next challenger's scent. That was relatively insightful for this sausage-fest.

Donnie took a seat on the other side of Ranie. "Is she punching out Talon again?"

Ranie said, "Apparently he hasn't had enough. I didn't see you come in."

"Just got here." He gestured at Sorana. "She's something."

Ranie said, "Quite exceptional."

Donnie said, "Yes, though it was some time before I learned just how exceptional. Yet somehow, the first night you met her at McKinsey's, you knew. You started that fight on purpose."

"Who me?"

"You knew what she would do to those guys."

"How would you know? Seems you were distracted by your boobie doll." Insulting the love of his life will make things better.

"I guess around that time, the drinks were getting to me."

"I think there was something in the drinks—that one round, at least."

"I know what she did to Ignas last week."

"He'll live."

"I hope she understands what she did."

"I didn't ask her to. It was her idea. She's my friend, Donnie." Ranie waved her hands in sarcastic surprise. "I know! Some people like me." Or more likely she just appreciated my hospitality and felt she owed me.

Another challenger was up. He had wide grin as his friends cheered him on. Sorana repositioned facing the wall and took her stance. The challenger leaned over, touching one hand to the ground, ready for a sprint.

Ranie said, "This will end well."

Donnie said, "It's pointless without a rubber body suit and magnetic helmet. But I guess they don't know that."

"Yeah, pretty sad. Only an idiot could be entertained by this."

Evan sat with wide eyes and clenched fists on the edge her seat, intently watching the game.

The challenger charged.

Sorana turned and delivered what should have been a foot-heal tap to the gut, but the challenger jumped at the last moment and caught her foot in his groin. Most people in the promenade sucked in air through clenched teeth as the challenger fell to the ground in agony.

Evan fell out of her chair laughing. To be fair, her balance was inhibited by her sea-sickness.

As the challenger dragged himself off the mat, normal conversation resumed.

Donnie said, "We've finished deposing Guivan ... for now."

Ranie forgot about the tag game. "Oh?"

Donnie said, "I thought you'd want to know. Finnur is finishing his notes. I'll take you to him."

"Sure." He didn't make me ask. That was kind. He's always kind to me. Ranie followed Donnie to the medical bay. "What's that smell?"

"That's Vinok's quarters."

"The alfanar tree grower?"

"That's one way to describe him. His quarters are right over there." Donnie pointed. "He's got some sort of disturbing brew-in-a-barrel going on in there. Apparently, you don't really need dirt to grow a tree. It just sucks nutrients straight from this alfanar brew. Anyway, he's growing a tree and shaping it to strengthen and retrofit the Virtuosa as we travel."

"Is that the alfanar we rescued from Talon's?"

"No, a volunteer from the consulate. Though he did volunteer in part because of the rescue. Apparently, he helped grow the alfanar ambassador's ship. I asked about getting that one, but they wouldn't sell it for anything. They want to keep it in case they have to evacuate their embassy in a hurry. A grown alfanar ship would've gotten us to Eurydice a lot faster and more safely. The _Virtuosa_ gives us room, though. I also hired another alfanar—a poisons expert." Donnie knocked on a door.

Finnur said, "Come in."

Donnie led the way. "How is Ursula?"

"She's still suffering withdrawal. She was bound to Talon." Finnur shook his head. "I'd heard that could happen, where a siren becomes bound to a captor. This withdrawal is excruciating to watch."

"So I heard," said Donnie. "I had an idea to try to relieve her symptoms this evening, but we can discuss that later. Are your notes on Guivan complete? Ranie wanted to look them over."

"Close enough to done for us to look at." Finnur sat at a desk and spread out some papers. "He is a priest of White Heart, but not a member of the Paragon. He has been a go-between for certain elements of the Paragon and Talon for two years. He is aware of discussions that took place regarding reports of mass miscarriages, but would not characterize those as a plan for actually causing mass infanticide, by the Paragon or by others. He had no information on a plot to kill a siren, but did say that the Paragon has been expending a lot of resources to check into the background of Sister Mary. Let's see ... what else. He feels that Talon is more responsive to the Com than to the Paragon. He recently viewed a hologram of the Pale Siren."

Ranie said, "The Pale Siren? As in Wescott's lost prediction of the Banshee?"

Finnur said, "Yes, he said something along those lines." He shuffled papers. "Here it is. He calls it 'Demise of the Mortal Banshee'."

Ranie said, "What did he say about it?"

"It followed the local folk tale. A woman on a white, flying horse with two horns attacked the Mortal Banshee."

"What did she look like?"

Finnur looked up at her with concern.

Donnie asked, "Are you okay?"

Ranie made herself focus. "Yes, what did she look like?"

Finnur said, "White hair and tan skin ... human or sirenic in appearance ... high cheek bones ... violet eyes."

Ranie said, "Brown eyes. In my research, she always had brown eyes."

Finnur studied her. "Rainaria, are you sure you're okay? How about you let me check your temperature? You might be getting sea-sick. Lord knows Evan has had it bad."

Ranie shook her head. "No—no, I'm fine. She had brown eyes, though. Um ... thank you."

Ranie went back to the captain's cabin. She spent the next several hours alone, thinking in circles. At some point, her roommates dragged her out to the deck for a short sunset concert by Rapture and Ursula. It was probably beautiful. Rapture had dolphins doing something. Cespenar did something with lights. Thorsius gave her water and offered some food. Occasionally, Evan asked if she was okay. Later, back in the cabin, Athian turned Cespenar off and the lamps were dimmed, but Ranie's mind did not turn off.

Pale Siren's eyes were brown.

Otherwise, nothing mattered.

# Chapter 54

Pale Siren

Sorana practiced her meditation while on post at the brig. Her eyes were closed, allowing her eyes and brain's visual processing center to rest. But she remained acutely aware of those around her. She could smell Guivan on the other side of the door. She received the delta waves of his deep sleep. Mammals were hardest to arouse during deep sleep. It was the best time to approach them for a kill. He would soon be dreaming. Dreaming sleep was the best time to wake a man if you wanted attention. It was a trick to use with men whose psychology prevented them from performing while fully awake. Properly applied, the trick was a reliable method of infiltrating an organization. Guivan's breathing was drowned out by the creaking of Virtuosa and the movements of the nightshift on the main deck above.

Someone approached. The hesitant, delicate foot step pattern was that of a woman. When close enough, she could sense the brain activity. The beta wave intensity could only be generated by Visor or Ranie. Sorana's hair follicles sensed variations in air flow as Ranie drew close. Ranie's breathing, pheromones and bio-magnetic aura indicated benevolent intention. Sorana let Ranie come close and touch her face.

Sorana was on Mystique, riding through a cloudy night sky. She broke the cloud level to find a full, blue moon and thousands of stars. A grouping of stars coalesced to take the form of Ranie.

Ranie rode beside Sorana on a white horse, her hair stretching for light years behind them. Ranie smiled at her, the way life-long friends and close sisters would smile. "My friend, I need to see Guivan." She removed her hand from Sorana.

Sorana led Ranie into the brig and awoke Guivan.

Ranie said, "Put him in that chair."

Sorana grabbed and pushed Guivan into the chair.

Ranie walked behind Guivan and placed her hands on his head. She held them there for minutes, expending significant effort. "Pale Siren—what color were her eyes?" She asked the question three times.

He gave three different answers—'blue', 'aqua', and 'perhaps violet'.

Ranie walked around in front of him, looked into his eyes, and asked the question again. He did not answer. He was confused and scared.

Ranie moved her hands toward his head, but he reflexively grabbed her wrists. She said, "Disable him."

Sorana broke his wrists.

He cried out but quickly silenced himself, sparing himself a severely bruised throat.

Ranie put her hands on Guivan's head. "Show me Pale Siren." Beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. She stepped back and absently wiped her hands on her clothes. She touched Sorana's face again.

Ranie hovered before her among billowing clouds, before a star light sky. The floating Ranie took Sorana's hands in hers and said, "I know you, my friend. Thank you."

Ranie left the brig.

Sorana took Guivan to see Ursula.

## ***************

"Donnie! Donnnnieeeee!"

It took a moment to wake up and recognize Evan's voice.

She burst into commodore's cabin seconds later. "Donnie! Something's wrong with Ranie."

Visor hopped up and threw on a tunic.

"This way!" Evan led him down to the promenade and looked around. "She was here a minute ago. She was babbling some of your math stuff—that we're all dead. I don't know what she said. Something's wrong. Where is she?" Evan ran to the medical bay and searched frantically, awaking Finnur.

A crewman called from a corridor. "If you're looking for that white-haired girl, she went up to the poop deck."

"Oh, crap." Visor sprinted up the stairs, across the main deck, and up the quarter deck to the poop.

Ranie stood at the rail, watching the _Virtuosa's_ wake dissipate.

The helmsman ignored the commotion, concentrating on his steering duty.

Visor spoke gently. "Ranie?"

Ranie turned to face him. "Even with an oracle in time, there is no solution in reality. The null set recycles. How can I be and not be?"

"Calm down, Ranie. Whatever it is, it'll be fine."

Ranie stared through him. "I could never play you. You are the constant ... the origin. Then there is no need for me to be real. It is your dream, and I entered through the illusion of my mind."

"Ranie! Come to me."

She stepped closer to him. "If infinity collapsed, then would the dream expel me to reality? Do I even desire to leave? To watch you wither away while I weep? Or shall I stay forever suspended in a single moment, watching you drift from me?" She abruptly seemed relieved. "A moment that never ends."

Evan whimpered. "Meole!"

Finnur called from behind him. "Rainaria, please!" He was out of breath.

Visor knelt as if in proposal. "Ranie."

Ranie stepped up to Visor and clamped her palms on his temples. The wind, the creaking of the _Virtuosa_ , and bird squawks faded, blending with the perception of another reality. Her eyes drew him in. Her whispered words seared into his brain. "I'm out of time."

Ranie's hair billowed out behind her as she flew through clouds in a night sky. She rode a white horse with two horns. The clouds parted to reveal pulsing Aurora lights against a solar sea of stars and planets.

She said, "As you once loved me, remember me now. You predicted Pale Siren and fused her into me. You are the Oracle of Deception. Pale Siren is what she is because of you, and you made her love you. And then you left her."

Her hair shortened and changed from platinum blond to bleached white. Her skin transformed to a light tan and her eyes turned brown. She looked like Gwendolyn. He no longer heard Ranie's voice, but the Pale Siren screamed in his mind with the booming voice of a cracking glacier. "You left me! I needed you! I did! And you are the only one who could have helped me!"

Ranie's hands slid off his head.

He was back on the _Virtuosa_.

She looked weak and wobbled slightly. "I need sugar."

Finnur caught and steadied her.

# Chapter 55

All in Your Mind

Ranie took a goblet of fruit juice from Rapture. "Thank you." Ranie's hand trembled as she pulled a honey spoon out of her mouth and stirred the remaining bit of honey into the juice. She shivered.

Visor took off his cape and put it over her shoulders. "Take your time." It wasn't that cold in the medical bay. Ranie was just exhausted. She'd been up all night.

Ranie took a deep breath. "Obviously, I am a telepath. This is the first time I have shared that with anyone in seven years."

Finnur said, "Understandable, given the stigma."

Visor said, "Are people afraid of telepaths in Raykez? In WaterCrescent, they are highly sought after by the court and Viscount, among others. Usually, they can make a good living just reading for the court."

Finnur said, "There is some superstition in the farmsteads and suburbs, but telepaths are accepted and sought after in downtown Raykez as well."

Evan said, "It's because stupid people think it makes you crazy."

Ranie said, "And they are right, quite often. It is mentally draining. Most telepaths that read professionally burn out within a few years."

Finnur said, "Luvia has been successfully contracting with Sheriff Kyle for years."

"Vampires are different. They're just detecting small pressure and electrical variations—enough to determine when someone is lying. They don't share the experiences ... see the things we see ... feel the things we feel."

Visor said, "But Evan knew?"

Evan said, "Yeah, and so do you but you forgot."

"What?"

Ranie said, "If everyone would just give me a minute."

"Yeah, sorry." Visor sat back.

"It is like this: You all know that Donnie is an oracle. What you didn't know is that he is the Oracle of Deception. Deception is a prediction of Pale Siren—or rather the discovery and viewing of the receptacle of Wescott's fourth Banshee prediction, Demise. Deception was predicted about eight years ago. Visor shared the image with me—we shared it, telepathically. She was a minor strain of siren with white hair."

Visor said, "A Sky Head."

"We thought it entertaining to transpose my features onto her." Ranie huffed and held out a lock of her hair. "We lightened her skin to match mine, made her long-haired and, of course, heterochromatic. Her eyes were originally brown.

"Unexpectedly, Visor fell into the coma. I tried many times to make a telepathic connection with him, but it never worked, or so I thought. Then he awoke and had lost all memory of Pale Siren, and all memory of my being telepathic. And for some reason, I could no longer form a telepathic link with him. I never asked directly, fearing that something or someone didn't want him to know—that somehow his knowing might lead to another coma. We went on with our lives. He moved to WaterCrescent. Here we are now, and what we thought was seven years later is all the same instant in Visor's comatose dream."

Finnur was writing in his journal. "Why do you say that, Rainaria?"

"Guivan showed me his vision. In the recording he saw, Pale Siren had heterochromia iridum—the same combination as mine."

Visor said, "So we are in my mind."

"It can only be that I was able to reach you in your coma, and we are still there. You are dreaming, and I exist outside of time." Ranie shook her head. "I couldn't reach you in the coma, and I could never reach you again after you awoke. I thought you were damaged, but now I realize that telepathy wouldn't work because my own mind was blocking me to propagate the fantasy ... or perhaps you were blocking us and you are just now dying in the real world. It doesn't matter. Now that I understand the truth, I control the fantasy as a lucid dream, and I can reach you."

Visor said, "Actually, Mer—"

Evan over-talked him. "I don't get it. So what if the White Siren has blue eyes?"

Visor said, "According to Ranie, that would be impossible. The heterochromic version of Pale Siren—the one with a blue and a violet eye—only exists in the minds of Ranie and me. So if Guivan saw it, it would mean that he, and by extension all of you, are figments of our imagination."

Ranie said, "Well, that's not exactly true."

Finnur underlined something. "Why is that not true?"

Ranie said, "As I studied more of the Dodelige and White Heart, I saw an opportunity. The White Heart needed a mystical figure, a hero, to be the human face for their religion. I shared the altered image with selected people, hoping it would catch on and become a part of the White Heart dogma. Then I would be able to expose a pillar of their faith as false at an opportune time. It worked, or so I thought."

Finnur said, "So that's it then. Someone told Guivan about the blue-eyed Pale siren."

"Or, for all we know, some oracle predicted my prediction of Wescott's prediction." Visor scratched under his ear. "It still doesn't work out. Guivan saw the image from the Demise receptacle. The receptacle was created during Wescott's time, hundreds of years ago. We just created the heterochromatic Pale Siren a few years ago. She couldn't be in Demise."

Ranie said, 'It was a complex fantasy. There were just too many variables to propagate it forever. A contradiction was inevitable."

Finnur said, "But with the image out, another possibility opens up. Another telepath could have transferred the image to Guivan, or someone could have described it to him in detail. He could be fabricating the part about the Wescott's receptacle. He may be confused."

Ranie said, "It doesn't work like that. He believed it to be real. Sharing a telepathic image is just another form of communication. It is like talking, but it can be with pictures instead of words. Regardless, if a telepath passed the image to him, he would recognize that it was shown to him in that manner."

Visor said, "Just like Ranie showed me images of Pale Siren up on deck. I am aware that I was kneeling on the deck when that happened, and that all of you were around me. And now that she's told me that I had seen the images before, but it's not like I suddenly had my memory altered to think I saw them years ago."

Finnur said, "What if a more powerful telepath, or say an exceptional vampire—"

Visor said, "It can't be a vampire. They don't—"

"I have done study on the subject, and it is not possible." Ranie's voice quivered.

Rapture held her hand.

Ranie took a drink. "I had to. It was only natural to wonder if I had caused Donnie's coma or memory loss. With all of the linking, could I have destroyed his prediction ability? But every telepathic experience I could find referenced is just like mine. It's just a connection, not control."

Rapture patted Ranie's shoulder.

Finnur said, "I would point out that your physiological response to this recounting indicates that you are not yourself positive that we are living inside Visor's coma."

"Yet it remains the only explanation to avoid contradiction. I am conscious within Visor's mind, and my mind is creating the physiological responses to propagate the fantasy."

Evan scoffed.

Finnur said, "Okay, but in my mind, and in the minds of Visor, Evan and Rapture, no contradiction exists other than what you are telling us. Is the likely conclusion that reality has collapsed? Is it possible that your mind has become confused? Perhaps in a complex telepathic exchange?"

Ranie said, "I am human, and my mind is fallible like any other. But this is not something that is unclear to me. I don't have any traumatic triggers that could explain such a divergence from reality ... no sudden losses."

Visor said, "What if—"

"You weren't _that_ good."

Finnur said, "Visor is the only one that could confirm your theory, but ..."

"But the precise portions of his memory that would confirm my reality happen to be missing, conveniently. And yet, it remains the only solution."

Finnur leaned over the table. "I'm sorry to beat this dead horse, but what if there was some kind of combination of hypnosis with telepathy? While in a vulnerable state, could the image be transferred and believed real?"

Ranie said, "Look, it's a moot point. Guivan had never been linked with before."

Finner asked, "Oh?"

Ranie said, "When a human that isn't an oracle or telepath links for the first time, it is a long and draining process. You have to wake up part of the brain. I suppose it's like teaching them a new language."

"Ah, I see."

Visor asked, "Would linking to someone in a coma cause any special consideration? I mean, along the lines of getting trapped in a permanent dream."

Finnur said, "From what understanding we have, which is limited, coma patients have reduced brain activity. They appear to continue to experience periods of unconsciousness and consciousness. They usually claim not to have dreamed. The few who do usually report nightmarish dreams—a sense of being trapped. Considering how little we know about dreams in the first place, it is hard to say whether they are actually dreaming and forgetting, or thinking they dreamed due to confusion during the process of pulling out of the coma. Unfortunately, a number of coma patients die from dehydration before awakening. They normally awaken soon after being healed by a siren, or not at all."

"I was lucky, somehow."

"As far as dreaming, Ranie could probably tell you as much on this as I could."

Ranie said, "Attempting to link with someone while dreaming is like listening to someone speak vardal who does not actually know vardal. It just comes across as a confused jumble—same as with hypnosis experiments. You can sometimes guide dreams with a telepathic link, in much the same way one might with words or sound."

Visor said, "When you awaken to a crash, you might dream of a door's slamming in the instant before you fully wake up."

Ranie said, "That's what I've found, at least as far as dreams. But we don't have any data specific to comas. In any case, there is no reason to suspect that linking to dreaming or comatose people would cause any risk to anyone."

Rapture asked, "You linked with Don while he slept?"

"Sure, Donnie among others."

Visor said, "It could have been a fake—the viewing, I mean. Say that an oracle told the Paragon we'd one day interrogate Guivan. And so, for whatever reason, the Paragon faked the viewing to trick Guivan. They could just hire a pixie to reproduce the scene—or more than one if needed. They have the secrecy and organization to execute that kind of a conspiracy."

Finnur said, "And they could hire the best telepaths to transfer the image from anyone, or from any group, who thought up the scene."

Ranie said, "I would know."

Finnur said, "What do you mean?"

Evan said, "She said she would freaking know, dork ass! What do _you_ mean?"

"Ev, they are not attacking me."

Visor said, "We are just trying to establish the existence of any reasonable method by which Guivan could have actually seen the heterochromia Pale Siren from the receptacle. We want to find a conceivable alternative to being trapped in my coma."

"How is picking at her going to make her get better, Donnie? She needs to rest. It's this damned boat—and all the other crap going on." Evan squinted and rubbed her temples.

Ranie finished her drink. "I do think this is the best way to help, whatever the truth is."

Evan huffed.

Ranie said, "I find it hopeful that no one believes me, at least immediately. Perhaps I am wrong."

Finnur placed his hand on Ranie's wrist. "Rainaria, I think Visor is the only one who understands what you are saying. I don't doubt you. I'm just trying to understand."

Ranie looked away. "I would know because for me to believe the image, both the telepath and the illusionist involved would have to be smarter than I. It is about continuity and transition details, not simply strength of impression. It is inconceivable that someone could put together such an illusion."

Finnur said, "Okay. What if they had a team of vampires linked together, supporting a human telepath? And a team of pixies? Would they be able to work together like that?"

Visor said, "The evidence is that all telepaths are at least pretty smart, so they'd be adding to that. Oracles, too."

Ranie said, "I seriously doubt it. It would be a weakest link situation. There would be some amount of effort sharing, though. Perhaps that could balance the equation. But how would all this be done in such a way that Guivan wouldn't be suspicious? I suppose it's not beyond the realm of possibility. It's more likely than reality implosion, anyway."

Finnur said, "We could question Guivan as to the specifics of his viewing and see if the possibility of a team is excluded in some way. Did he have full view of the image? Was he allowed to handle the receptacle? Or maybe just the opposite—perhaps they limited his view point and there was a stage with trap doors and mirrors."

Evan took Ranie's goblet. "I'll be back."

Finnur took a drink. "What would it take to create a new receptacle and put a recorded image into it? I'm just thinking—even if Guivan excludes the possibility of a faked viewing, we may still not have closure. They could have planned the fake as we've discussed, but instead of showing it to Guivan live with mirrors and trap doors, they could have recorded it into a receptacle."

Visor said, "No one knows how to create them. At least none of our WaterCrescent alchemists figured it out."

"Where do they come from?"

"They are passed around, or discovered. It's got to be difficult to create something that stores information like a brain. That's part of why they are so valuable. We know how to use them—a vardal to power them up and a telepath to read—but that's about it. You need a pixie and particle field if you want to see it. They're expensive and rare. That's why we only associate them with the recording of Wescott's predictions and not with casual messages between friends."

Finnur drew some lines in his journal. "But that could be it. It would be complex and expensive, but the timeline allows years for the Paragon to arrange this. Finnur looked over his notes. "On Visor's coma, it could have been induced by any number of physiological causes—an infection, a physical impact. His loss of oracle ability, however, would be unprecedented as far as I know."

Visor said, "Unprecedented but explained, possibly. The condition of being an oracle—or telepath—is related to a part of our brain. We have crystalline structures called pseudo-conjoins, just like the conjoins of sirens and pixies. We are born with it, and it is completely integrated with our nervous system. Damage to my conjoin could have caused the loss of oracle ability. It could also explain the coma and memory loss."

Ranie felt the back of her head. "Now he's going to want to dissect our brains." Ranie held up a hand apologetically toward Finnur. "Sorry, I meant to kid. But Donnie, I can make the telepathic connection with you now."

Visor said, "Mercy recently discovered the damage to my conjoin and made a correction so that my oracle ability will work within her tower. It's possible that jostling the connections for the oracle ability could also fix whatever was preventing our linking."

Finnur said, "When you say she 'made a correction', do you mean with surgery?"

Visor said, "No it is more like she zapped the area with her fingers, like a vardal—or more like a vampire."

Rapture nodded emphatically. "It's true. Her claws were on him."

Ranie said, "But you still don't remember Pale Siren?"

Visor shrugged. "Sorry, no."

Ranie said, "I see. Well, at least I exist, although delusional and disturbed."

"Restoring my conjoin wouldn't necessarily restore any damaged portions of my brain. I could still be missing those memories."

"Do you really believe that to be the case?"

Visor shrugged.

Finnur said, "It is possible. We know little about how our brains process and store information, and nothing about how conjoins interact with them."

Ranie said, "The precise memories of Pale Siren? I appreciate the pandering, but I've burned out. That's the simplest explanation. For me to be sane, a ludicrous set of happenstances would be required."

Visor asked, "You mean because of the intelligent design?"

"Yes, with multiple elements. It's either just me or multiple others."

"And the random convergence of intelligent designs is excluded by probability."

"There must be only one commonality—and it's me."

"That is supposition."

"I am the only common intelligence."

"What about co-existence?"

# Chapter 56

Dream Trap

"What? Donnie, are you suggesting cognitive emergence?"

"Why not?"

"Because it's a myth."

"How do you know?"

"Because I believe it's a myth."

"Do you want to be insane?"

"No, but the evidence is that I am. I used my brain too much, playing around."

Finnur said, "I don't pretend to be up to speed on this conversation, but maybe it would help you two if you explained it to us."

Ranie crossed her arms and sat back. "Telepathic cognitive emergence–it is a theory about why telepaths eventually burn out. People who aren't telepaths think that all the different memories and thought patterns overlap and form an intelligence of their own that lives inside the telepath."

Visor said, "I don't think that. I was just suggesting it as a possibility."

"Well, it's not."

Finnur said, "Rainaria, are you able to explain why it's not?"

"Ung." Ranie smacked her hands to her head. "Telepathy, at least for humans, is just like talking. You talk to people all your life. It's not like the conversations suddenly become little people in your head."

Finnur said, "Well, that makes sense to me. And I guess you already explained that. This is difficult for some of us to grasp."

Visor said, "What about that Janna Fermavent or whatever?"

"I knew you were going to say that!" Ranie mashed her hands on her temples. "It's Janice the Fervent and it's totally different."

Finnur said, "I'm sorry to ask, but if we want to help, it would be best to pursue all angles."

Ranie said, "I know. As the myth goes, Janice, sometimes called Lady Jane, was a telepath in Vozvul. She married a doctorate of alchemy that specialized in the use of lucid dreaming to solve problems too complex for people to solve consciously. He called it constructive astral lucidity."

Finnur said, "It is believed that the unconscious mind works much faster than the conscious. The problem is that the work is misdirected and any progress is usually forgotten upon awakening."

"But theoretically, with a lucid dreamer and a telepath, the work could be directed. And the work could be shared with other lucid dreamers who could continue and build on the work. The story goes that Janice and her husband developed a method for linking together dozens of lucid dreamers. Eventually, the link itself took on a life of its own, a sort of astral cognitive emergence. Like any life, it needed to feed and grow, so it created a dream trap. Janice and all the dreamers were absorbed by the astral cognitive emergence, becoming mindless zombies." Ranie rolled her eyes. "Her husband now wanders Vozvul seeking new minds to feed the emergence and keep Janice alive."

Finnur said, "That is absolutely fascinating. Is it possible?"

Ranie sighed. "Well, I suppose it can't be strictly excluded from the realm of possibility. There are some technical problems—the linking of dozens."

Visor said, "But that's just a story problem. Technically, they could do it with multiple telepaths. Or they could have developed a machine—something like a Catalyst. Or it could just be an inaccuracy introduced by retelling. Perhaps there were dozens of dreamers, but they were linked in series, not parallel."

Finnur said, "And with sufficient subjects and research, they could have refined lucid dreaming techniques for better stability."

Ranie said, "As I said, 'not outside the realm of possibility'. They formed a complex, stable structure in astral space. With sufficient complexity, the structure could have the ability to make decisions on its own."

Finnur asked, "Intelligent ones?"

"Well, the definition of intelligent life is a fuzzier line than most people usually envision." Visor said, "The critical point is self-awareness—the ability to choose. That's when it can recognize threats to itself, and take actions to defend itself against those threats."

Ranie said, "The real threat is the point of singularity."

"Oh yeah, of course, for a wide scale threat."

Finnur asked, "The point of singularity?"

Ranie said, "When it can grow and improve itself without outside help."

Visor said, "But that isn't an issue here because the astral emergence requires a human subconscious to grow. It could possibly harm individual people connected to it, but not the whole population."

Ranie said, "If it controls zombies, and they force others onto the astral link, then it does have control."

Visor said, "But that's not feasible—a bunch post lucid dream suggestion zombies walking around searching for brains? Like no would figure out what's going on? And it's not even the zombies searching; it's the husband."

"And the emergent is controlling the husband." Ranie was hiding a smile.

Fine, he'd play along. "That's not control by some emergent. That's love by a human."

"It's not even love, it's—."

"Devotion," said Rapture.

Everyone looked at Rapture.

Finnur said, "Let's get back on point."

Ranie looked disappointed. "In seriousness, you can't control someone's conscious actions through dreams. You can affect their mood, maybe even condition in a bias, such as choosing a certain color of dress. But you're not going to be able to make zombies that go out and perform complex tasks like successfully abducting people who don't want to be abducted."

Visor said, "Regardless, the entire Janice myth doesn't apply here."

Ranie said, "Agreed."

Finnur asked, "Where were we before Janice?"

Visor said, "The Paragon created a receptacle and recorded the heterochromatic Pale Siren into it. And we could guess that all of the digging under the Silent Oratory was part of the deception. They pretended to find the original receptacle of Demise."

Rapture said, "And they sure dug everywhere."

Finnur sat up. "What do you mean?"

"Vivian showed me a map the night I stayed in the Sanctuary. It was a map of the digging plans under the Oratory."

Visor said, "What did it say?"

Rapture said, "What do you mean? It was a map."

"Did it indicate that they had finished digging? Had the found anything? What they were looking for?"

"I'm sorry. I don't remember much about it. I didn't think it would be important."

Finnur said, "But what did it look like? Was it scribbled on and marked up? Clean?"

Rapture said, "Well, it was a brown paper. The writing was sirenic."

"What did it say?"

"I don't know."

Visor said, "Sirenic is not formally taught any more. In Xandria, most sirens don't even know how to speak it. All new writing is in human."

Rapture said, "I know a few phrases—from songs, mostly."

"But she did see it," said Finnur. "And I can read sirenic—not fluently, but enough to recognize words and phrases."

Visor said, "I see what you're getting at, but it would lose some fidelity in the transfer through Ranie."

Finnur said, "Not if Ranie chain linked us."

Ranie said, "I don't know if that's a good idea."

Visor said, "Is it even safe with sirens?"

Finnur said, "I don't think race would matter. I would suppose that if the brains operated too differently, the link just wouldn't work."

Ranie said, "Still—"

Visor said, "Should we get Ursula in here in case something goes wrong?"

Finnur shook his head. "She could make things worse. She's still suffering from Talon's abuse."

Visor said, "So, we get Sorana to watch her. And Athian—"

"No." Ranie tensed her hands in frustration. "It would be better to have fewer people around. I believe Professor Finnur is correct—at worst, the chain link won't work. I don't lose consciousness, and I can break the link at will. Anyone can break it by moving away. But chain telepathic linking isn't the same as a group conversation. It can be a personal experience."

Finnur held up his hands defensively. "Oh, Ranie, if you feel uncomfortable, I don't mean to be intrusive. I was just speaking scientifically. It's fine. We can find another way to deal with this, or just let it rest for now."

Evan returned with a full goblet for Ranie.

"I don't mean to be prudish." Ranie took the goblet. "I just want to make sure you are all aware of what this is going to be like. People are used to speaking, where you can pause whenever you want to find the right words. It is easy to avoid sharing information that you don't want to." She took a drink. "Sometimes when linked, people share things by accident, particularly between conjoins. It's easy enough to just ignore those things when it's the two of us. Once something is out there in group, it is out there."

Rapture said, "I see. So when we link with Don, we're going to see all the girls naked."

Visor laughed. "I don't know. I spend most of my time trying to forget horrific images from the coronation dance." Visor turned to Ranie. "I don't mean—"

Ranie said, "We can usually control subject matter through verbal interchange, so concentrate on that if you feel yourself drifting."

Rapture asked, "What do you mean?"

Visor said, "We continue talking while linked. As long as you think about what is being said, they won't know about all the things you plan to do with me tonight."

Finnur said, "Aww, come on!"

Rapture scoffed. "You can just enjoy yourself tonight. Wait, I mean—"

Burke whined.

Ranie giggled. "This is not helping."

Visor said, "Just keep your eyes closed and think about poker."

# Chapter 57

Linked

Rapture finished her sweet juice and set the goblet down. "Sure, I'm ready."

Don sat to her right and Finnur to her left on the bench. Guivan sat tied to a chair with Sorana positioned behind him. Athian stood attentively behind Ranie.

Ranie smiled at Rapture. "You can let go of the bench. It won't hurt. It might reduce confusion if you close your eyes, though."

Rapture realized she was clenching the bench so hard that her fingers were aching. She placed her hands in her lap and closed her eyes. Oh, Heiliger Mond, please, please don't think anything stupid.

"Just breathe, Rap. It's fine. I promise there is nothing to be afraid of." Ranie held her palm to Rapture's temple. "Tell me about the map."

Rapture thought about it. "It was brown. I guess I already said that—sorry."

"It's okay."

"The writing was mostly in black. There was some red and green. The red was deep." The picture in her mind became surprisingly stable. More details appeared. Those she was most sure about stayed, and those she was less sure about tended to fade in and out. She could feel Ranie in her mind, seeing what she was seeing, stabilizing the image while letting Rapture make changes.

Ranie asked, "How big was the map?"

"It was from here to here. The writing was sirenic, as I said. There was writing of different sizes. The largest words were up here, and looked like this."

Finnur said, "I'm still not seeing anything."

Ranie said, "It takes a few minutes to make the full connection with non-conjoins."

Finnur said, "I think I can tell you're doing something in my head."

"Your brain is adjusting to interface with me. It's safe. It's exhausting, though."

"I can tell. Is this what court telepaths go through with each witness?"

"Yes, with the regular humans—unless they've been linked with previously."

Finnur was in Rapture's mind now, sharing the same image. "Is it possible that this word looked like this?" The letters of a word rearranged.

"I really don't remember. I'm sorry."

The letter continued to change as Finnur said, "Like this ... like this?"

"That's it—with the umlaut." Rapture surprised herself. Somehow, when she saw the right word, she was sure. Together, they eventually recreated a fairly detailed map. She felt it was accurate, though she couldn't explain why if anyone asked.

Finnur said, "If this map is true, it appears that the receptacle was found buried beneath the Oratory."

Don asked, "Then what does that mean? Instead of creating a receptacle, they just recorded over the original?"

Ranie said, "That actually is more plausible."

Finnur left Rapture's mind.

"Yes." Ranie put her other hand on Rapture's face, then removed the original one.

Don entered the link.

Rapture felt warm ... sensual. Ranie was going to feel that, too. Oh, well. The image of the map remained stable. Rapture could feel that Ranie was exerting significant energy to keep it so.

Don said, "We need to re-evaluate the dissemination of the image of the heterochromia iridum Pale Siren."

Ranie said, "No, we need to go further back. What is the earliest event you can think of that would make you think I'm telepathic?"

"I remember George's place ... working on toolshed plans ... to rearrange it. You were in and out with your friends." The image of the map faded and an image of a rural dwelling's kitchen appeared.

"Alethia and I were sneaking out handfuls of flour in our pockets ..."

Don said, "I remember thinking you were up to something, but not anything that would make me think of telepathic ..."

In the memory, Ranie was a young girl. Her skin was perfect and radiant.

"Oh! That's me?" Ranie laughed derisively.

The image kept jumping back in forth in Rapture's head—getting jumbled. "This is weird."

Don said, "It's switching between our viewpoints."

Ranie said, "Can't help that."

Don said, "I'm getting some major feedback."

Rapture said, "I feel weird."

Ranie removed her hand from Rapture.

Rapture opened her eyes.

Ranie cradled Don's face. "That's better." She looked weak, yet relaxed—almost intoxicated. Ranie's face and stance portrayed a rare contentment.

Don said, "Yeah, sorry. I was distracted." He stroked Rapture's leg.

They had to remove Rapture because she was too stupid to handle the chain link. They were just trying to be nice by not saying it. That's fine. They were here for Ranie.

Ranie said, "We need to move later than that." The two pseudo-conjoins talked for a time, eventually going in to fine detail about the events leading up to Don's coma. At one point, Ranie chained in Guivan, and then later switched Guivan out for Sorana. After a time, Sorana put her hand on the base of Don's neck. He grunted and winced.

Rapture said, "Sweetie, what are you doing? Sorana!"

Don grimaced.

Finnur said, "Maybe we should stop."

Ranie said, "No!"

Don shuttered.

Athian reached to remove Sorana's hand.

Finnur stopped Athian and gave him a grave shake of head. "Don't be a fool. She'll kill you." He pushed Athian back. "Ranie, break the link!"

Ranie said, "Hold on."

Don's face became red. He clenched his jaw.

The trio broke. Don and Ranie locked gazes in shock.

Ranie wobbled and breathed heavily.

Athian helped her sit.

Rapture asked, "What happened?"

Don said, "Synergy. I remember now. I remember everything."

Rapture said, "Synagry?"

Don said, "The whole is greater than the sum of the parts. Our minds combined revealed details that they could not have reached individually. The receptacle, Guivan's viewing, the map—they were all true—exactly what they appeared to be. The Paragon is as much the fool as we are in this."

Finnur said, "But the contradiction ... you're not actually saying that we're all just part of her imagination."

Ranie said, "No, this is all real." She nodded her head toward Sorana. "She made him remember. Guivan's viewing was real. The actual image stored in the receptacle was our discontinuity. It was reprogrammed before the Paragon found it."

Athian raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure the memory wasn't implanted somehow?"

Don said, "Yes, I'm sure. It's just like when someone jogs your memory by mentioning something. Sorana, how did you do that?"

"I don't know."

"But how—we can worry about that later. I was attacked by a left-handed woman of Sorana's build. She was a telepath—an extremely powerful one."

Sorana said, "The vampire's accomplice."

Rapture said, "I don't understand. People were saying the Pale Siren broke Armaan out of jail."

Ranie said, "That was wild speculation."

Don said, "This one that attacked me has the knowledge and ability to damage a conjoin, and to suppress memory."

Finnur asked, "Could it have actually been Sorana?"

Don said, "I don't think so. Sorana was with me when Armaan escaped. I guess that just means she's not the accomplice, but we're pretty sure the accomplice is the same person that attacked me. And Sorana's right handed—well, effectively ambidextrous, but still."

Sorana said, "It wasn't me."

Ranie said, "The accomplice acted alone in the attack on Donnie, and in reimaging the receptacle of Wescott's Demise with the image of Deception. She has the voltage generation of a vardal, but is a telepath. She has creatures—powerful beasts—under her control that could retrieve the receptacle from deep underground, and replace it afterword."

Don said, "That describes only one individual."

Ranie said, "Reine le vampiric—the vampire queen."

Evan said, "Holy shit!"

## ***************

Ranie made herself approach Finnur. What do I say?

He was propped up against the poop deck railing, reviewing some notes. "Good evening, Rainaria."

"I ..." Nothing else came out.

Finnur folded up his notes and placed them aside. "I had four sons. One died from fever as a youth. The other three now work Worthington's land. There were times we shared drinks and stories. There were even times that they talked with me about girls. But they became men too early for my liking—independent and concerned with their own lives. I do love them. I wouldn't trade them for anything in the world, but I have always wondered what I missed by not having a daughter. Why don't you have a seat?"

Ranie sat. "We just ..." I had no idea how you felt. I didn't know what signs to look for. My daddy died when I was so young. I never knew him.

"The first time I met you, I saw the potential of your mind. Rather, I saw great potential, but I had no idea it reached this extent. Knowing what you could accomplish, it has always pained and frustrated me to watch you struggle. I sometimes wondered if your friends were pulling you into a dark place that you didn't need to be. I directed your study to psychology of women, and pressed you to delve into it, in part hoping it would help you through whatever you were dealing with."

It seemed like you were a narcissistic egghead that wanted others to do the legwork so that you could publish more studies. I'm sorry for thinking that.

"You were dealing with more than I knew. I should have listened more closely to you—encouraged you to study what you were interested in. I don't know how many more years I have before my mind starts to fade. Perhaps in an effort to find someone to follow my work, I ignored some signals that I shouldn't have. I apologize for that."

Did you just apologize?

"It shouldn't have taken a telepathic linking to see what was right in front of me. Sometimes when a person is too close to a situation, his vision is skewed. I couldn't see the forest for the trees, as they say. I want you to know that I am proud of what you have accomplished—so very proud of you. I brag on you all the time to the other professors. You are, by a wide margin, the strongest, most beautiful young tree in our forest of students. I sense that you are about to bloom and become something even more beautiful."

Everything became blurry. She was crying like a pathetic teenager. How embarrassing.

"I can't even imagine what type of flowers you may grow ... what wonders you will accomplish." Finnur patted her shoulders. "What's the matter?"

She leaned into him.

Finnur chuckled. "Oh." He patted her back and held her as a father might.

# Chapter 58

Another Me

Visor leaned on the Virtuosa's forecastle guard rail. The view of the open sea and rhythmic movement of the ship were calming.

"Remember that time we kicked the shit outta those pirates?" Evan never did like the quiet. She sat to his right, swinging her feet over the side. Her thinned legs hung through the rails. She'd lost weight over the three week voyage. She'd been sea-sick—nauseated and fatigued.

Visor asked, "We?"

Ranie sat on Visor's other side. "You mean yesterday, Ev?"

"Yeah!" Evan adjusted her newly-acquired eye patch. "Er, yar."

Ranie said, "Ev."

"Aye, Meole?"

"You're not a pirate."

"Avast, and I not be swabbing ye poop decks, land blubber. I be the lookout and this eye's getting' tired." Evan switched her patch to cover the other eye.

"You're supposed to switch it when you go below deck, dumbass. It's to keep one eye accustomed to the dark."

Evan considered the information. "Ho-wench."

Finnur walked up the steps. "It was lucky the pirates came along when they did. I don't think I would make much of a rower."

Visor said, "We really lost the wind after coming around the cape. That's probably why they hunted there."

"I'm just glad they included ore ports."

"The Virtuosa was designed for maneuverability around docks."

Ranie said, "It certainly wasn't for speed."

Evan said, "Wish they would row faster. I'm sick of the sea and it's sick of Ranie." She laughed at her own cleverness then had a minor coughing fit. There was a bit of blood in some of her phlegm.

Finnur said, "You should have a siren check that out. You may have developed a sinus infection, and that could develop into something more serious."

Ranie said, "She will."

Visor said, "Vinok is almost done reinforcing the hull. Then he can work on a jiggermast. That should help with speed."

Finnur said, "Rapture's dolphins have helped as well. Maybe she can get a few more pulling."

Visor said, "I'm having some more harnesses made. By the way, I talked with Vinok about the stench. I designed a set of port modifications that should improve ventilation—keep some of that smell out of the sickbay."

"Thanks. It's been pretty bad." Finnur said, "Speaking of the pirates, we might need to discuss the policy with their handling. I understand the branding is legally mandated. But their overall treatment is making the sirens ill."

Visor said, "There's only so much we can do. This isn't a prison barge. Giving them freedom in these tight quarters would require a lot more guard hours. Perhaps we could pay the marines overtime. I guess we could use the loot we confiscated from the pirates."

Finnur nodded. "That should help. I'll make sure the sirens understand that."

Visor said, "It's going to be up to you. You're going to have to play captain in a day or two."

Ranie said, "What exactly is the mission—this thing with the Catalyst?"

Visor said, "Primarily, we are needing to extract Amaranthine, Mercy's agent. And then we may go on to retrieve Catalyst. Hopefully we can just buy it or steal it. The mission shouldn't be too extended. We'll definitely need a telepath."

"How long do you think this will be?"

"Well, there's at least four days travel each way. Then who knows how many if we go for the Catalyst as well. Hopefully Rap can get us some mounts from the local wildlife. Maybe you'll get to ride a tiger."

"I'll pass."

What? "We really need a telepath for this. I mean, if the situation comes up where we're talking with people trying to interpret wild guesses and lies, having you there would make all the difference. I'll count it as double time for what you owe me."

"What—two girlfriends isn't enough?"

Finnur frowned. "Ranie!"

Visor held out his hands. "What?"

Ranie sighed. "I respectfully decline your invitation to partake in the adventure."

"But why? I'll keep the danger to you at a minimum. We're taking marines. We can leave you far from any action and I'll just take the marines and Sorana with me. I won't ask you to do anything I wouldn't have Rap do."

"I don't wish to discuss it. Not all of us are bound sirens and estrous half-breeds."

"What?"

"You know, Donnie, while living off the land and sharing every waking moment with a group of buddies might sound intriguing to you, there are certain things I don't want to share with everyone."

"What?"

Finnur spoke in low tones. "I believe we are referencing contrasts of the feminine condition between various fertile mammals."

Visor said, "Ah."

There was a silence.

Evan's eyes light up. "Oh—your period!"

Ranie said, "Thanks, Evan."

Visor said, "Yes, that awkward silence was so much worse than awkward conversation."

Ranie rolled her eyes. "Sheesh, the one time she gets it."

Finnur said, "Okay, now—both of you."

Visor sighed. "Evan, it makes me feel uncomfortable to talk about girl stuff with girls around, especially with you."

"It makes me uncomfortable, too." Ranie started mumbling. "But worth it in this case."

Finnur pointed back and forth between Ranie and Visor. "Okay, kids, we'll work on this later."

Ranie said, "I'll go to the shore camp with marines but I'm not going traipsing all over Issore on a wild goose chase."

Visor said, "No problem—we'll just come get you if we need you, when we've narrowed down the search a bit. Or we can bring them to you."

"Whatever."

The guys made their way across the forecastle deck. Finnur said, "Before you disembark for the Catalyst, I have reached some findings on Rapture's condition. If you would like to come by the medical bay sometime, I'm ready to share what I know and suspect."

"I'm ready now. I'll go get Rap."

## ***************

"Rapture's case continues to surprise. Obviously, my equipment on the Virtuosa is limited, but the test results I do have are consistent with the Sanctuary's exam, and the psychological profile we put together. If you take a wide view of possibilities, and allow for variables related to the unique experiences of the AciesMagus ..."

Visor said, "She was pregnant."

Rapture stared into the distance. "Yes ... yes, I was. And then I wasn't."

Visor asked, "Do you know how this happened?"

Finnur shook his head. "Normally, this is medically contradictory because the pheromone production of a siren in binding deters budding. I can't explain the mechanics. Perhaps some combination of drugs administered by the vardal interfered with your binding enough to allow her to become pregnant, but not enough to break the binding."

"How does that fit into their scheme? They were testing sirenic healing on vardal." Visor rubbed Rapture's back. "Why purposefully end the binding? They made such an effort to keep us is contact."

"Did they purposefully ... end my ..." Rapture lowered her head.

Finnur said, "I don't believe so. I suspect that pregnancy was simply not viable, or perhaps incompatible with other processes happening in your body. And there is some amount of physical evidence that the baby ..." Finnur looked distressed. "That the drugs ... I'm sorry—I hesitate to engage in speculation as a medical professional so far outside my field."

"Then speak as a friend."

"Evidence is that the fetus never passed the earliest stages of development. However, the biochemical readings indicate that a conjoin has developed in your womb. We took these readings in Raykez, but I wasn't able to interpret them until the recent information came to light."

"What does that mean?"

"I'm not sure. It seems the conjoin should have been reabsorbed or expelled along with other material. It wasn't."

"Is it a danger to Rap?"

"Will it keep me from ever budding?"

"I don't see any indication that your body sees the conjoin as a threat. It does not appear to be an immediate concern. If it begins to cause complications, you could probably just heal the damage until we come up with a therapy. And Rapture, as far as budding, this is really out of my area. When we get back to Raykez, we can have the vampiric nurse take some more readings. Then I would at least have a basis for suggesting a course of action. At this point, I'd say we need to be vigilant. If you experience pain or bleeding, let me know right away."

Visor said, "You look like you have something more to say."

"Yes, while Rapture exhibits readings consistent with active druid ability, there is no precedent for the connection she has with the leopard. Putting together the timing of events, it is reasonable to conclude that the conjoin and the connection to Burke are related. Her connection is telepathic, and it could be that the womb conjoin is providing this telepathy. It is possible the conjoin is vampiric."

Visor said, "What better way to test sirenic healing on vardal and vampires than to see how a siren's body hosts a vampiric fetus?"

"A what?" Rapture was distraught. "Heiliger Mond. What did they do to me?"

Visor hugged her. "Is that even possible? Could drugs and bioelectric treatments really convert a baby's conjoin?"

Finnur shrugged. "You are more qualified than I to answer questions like that."

# Chapter 59

Snakes

Eliot wrinkled up his face. "So, she wouldn't be able to just read us from the ship?"

Visor said, "No, it doesn't work that way."

Loring rode on the other side of Visor. "Are you sure? She seems to be reading you sometimes even when she's just in the same room."

Eliot said, "Yeah ... those eyes. I don't want to be mean or anything, but they can kind of freak you out."

Visor said, "I know for a fact that telepathy doesn't work that way, regardless of the heterochromatic status of the telepath. She has to touch you. She even has to be in contact with certain parts of your head to get certain information."

Eliot smirked.

Loring held up his hands defensively. "Okay, dude. We didn't ask for the life story version."

Visor checked behind them. Athian and the girls rode outside of ear shot. Cespenar was behind someone or off scouting. It was a good time to go ahead and get this out of the way. "Or stimulate your head to get more out."

Eliot looked ahead wistfully. "And wrap you up in that hair."

Loring said, "Gives you something to hold on to when you're doing the hound." He demonstrated his theoretical gyration with complete with hair pulling and riding crop use.

Visor said, "I wouldn't say she's the best catch on the boat."

Eliot said, "Yeah, I'm not much of a siren man, myself. Guess if you're looking for a little goodie tail, it's all good. I just like a little spice."

Loring said, "The kinkier, the better."

Eliot said, "Quenton sure has a piece."

Loring shaped his hands in a curve. "Evan's ass is so perfect, you could use it to calibrate a sextant."

Eliot hissed, "Dude!" He shrugged at Visor.

Loring said, "Oh yeah. Sorry, man."

And there was the challenge. Maybe it would be better to just let the alpha male take the lead. Eliot seemed level headed enough—at least more rational than Blaydon. With his ego and his livelihood tied to his reputation, he'd push for mission success. Rap would probably get offended at some point about something he said, but she'd get over it. They'd never let up on Athian, but he was an adult. But if Sorana drew attention, she may not handle open ridicule so well. That could turn out badly for all involved. Yeah, he had to take the lead. "Actually, if you want really spicy, you were more right with Ranie." He pretended to get distracted by something ahead.

Eliot said, "Hugh?"

"Well ..." Visor conspicuously looked behind to make sure the girls were far enough away. He then motioned the marines to lean in close.

They did.

Visor spoke in hushed tones. "Well, you guys know how sirens work, right?"

Loring nodded vigorously. "Oh ... yeah."

"Sure, just ..." Eliot made a rolling motion with his hand.

Visor said, "Well, as you know, sirens only last for a few years with each guy. Before the ol' red-head back there, I used to live in Raykez. Our family shared a Revon's Resort farmstead with Ranie's."

Loring looked skeptical.

Visor said, "Ask Rap if you want. Anyway, Ranie was a couple years older, and she became a woman early."

Loring asked, "Well how old was she when you took the first dip?"

They were making this too easy. "Hmm, man, I don't remember. But what I do remember—she liked to bring a friend. If you got lucky, you could get Ranie and her friend in the same mood, on the same night ... and if you could get ahold of some shine ..." He nodded slowly. "Only thing is—Evan didn't drink much back then."

Loring was in deep thought.

Eliot looked shocked but soon put on a broad smile. "Okay, you got me." He laughed heartily.

"Oh, dude!" Loring was slower to catch on, but eventually laughed, too.

Visor smiled and laughed with them. "Actually, I did know Ranie back then, but I was just kidding about the rest."

Loring clapped Visor on the shoulder.

Visor said, "Have either of you guys seen Burke?"

Loring looked around. "It's been a while."

Visor said, "Can you go up and check for him?

Loring rode off.

Visor asked, "You think the rhino's going to make it? I smell swamp ahead."

Eliot spit. "I think as long as we don't have a steep hill, he'll be good. He swam okay from where the crane dropped him."

Visor said, "Yeah, I'm just thinking it's one thing to doggie paddle to shore and another to get through a field of soft mud, if it gets deep."

Eliot said, "I'm just surprised that thing can keep up with the horses on the open ground. It seems like he'd get tired."

Visor said, "She likes the rhino, though. And he just seems safer somehow."

Eliot said, "I'd think so, with the armored skin, and leather barding on top of that." Eliot surveyed the surroundings. "You think it's time to reset bearings?"

Visor said, "I think we only have another hour or so in the rhino today. We can check progress at camp. Mercy's maps are usually accurate—just sometimes dated."

Seeing Burke return from scouting, Visor held up. Burke hopped up on the Rhino, and the riders made a circle with their mounts.

Rapture scratched behind the snow leopard's ears, letting her palm rest on his head. "There is unnatural terrain ahead. It looks like farmed land, but I don't see crops or buildings. Maybe an outhouse or shed—I can't tell. No major buildings."

Athian said, "Don't vardal live underground? It could be the top of a village."

Visor said, "That's the story, but I've never been in a vardal city. We know they are at least able to live on the surface."

Athian said, "Same with the vampires, right?"

Visor said, "They're pretty much the same physiology."

Rapture said, "He smelled lizards—possibly buway."

Visor said, "Pixie."

Cespenar said, "Okay. My tooshie's getting sore anyway. Which way?"

Rapture pointed.

Visor said, "Just scout the edge to see if it's safe for us to approach and get a look. Don't go over the village—farm area, whatever. Can you cloak yourself while flying?"

Cespenar said, "Can you walk and scratch your leg at the same time?"

Visor said, "Depends where the itch is."

Cespenar said, "Yeah, and ... okay—forgot where I was going with that. Anyway, no, I can't do both at the same time."

"I've seen you fly and shine lights."

"Yeah, flashing is easy."

"Okay, just go and keep a distance so you're safe."

Cespenar took off.

The Blade of Mercy traveled another ten minutes before circling up the mounts for the evening.

Loring returned with no new information.

Visor made preparations to scout ahead. "Sorana and Eliot are with me. The rest of you stay with the mounts. If something happens, go back to the Virtuosa for help. Finnur's in charge on ship. If you feel like a rescue is in order, the marines should run it."

Rapture said, "Because I'm an illiterate, teenage, vardal farm girl."

Visor said, "What?"

"Nothing."

Sorana led the scout trio ahead.

Eliot spoke in low tones. "You ever consider bringing that other siren, Ursula?"

Visor said, "Yeah, I did."

Eliot said, "No offense to your girlfriend, but it would be a lot easier to have everyone mobile—on foot."

Visor said, "I know. Ursula's still recovering from captivity. She's also not someone I trust. Maybe someday, but not yet."

"She's a siren. She'd side with us against vardal. She'd heal us in any case. Did you ask her?"

"What's your point?"

"We usually don't bring girlfriends into the field."

"I know. But I'm not a marine, so I can. And yes, I would sacrifice others or the mission to protect her."

Cespenar flew in and landed on Visor's shoulder. "Snakes—at least a mile either direction—pit after pit, full of them."

Eliot said, "Like pit traps?"

Cespenar breathed rapidly. "More like fields."

Visor broke off a piece of chocolate and gave it to Cespenar. "Good boy."

Cespenar started to say something, but nibbled the chocolate instead.

They crawled the last several yards to the edge of the mound and up to the crest. The pits of snakes went on as far as Visor could see in the post-dusk lighting.

Sorana signed, Riding snakes.

Visor studied the pits. Actually, I think these are farms. They're growing snakes for food.

Sorana pointed into the distance. Riding snakes, over there.

Eliot asked, "What's up?"

Visor said, "Riding snakes in that direction, beyond where we can see. Do you have your spotting scope?"

Sorana said, "Two snakes, with riders."

Visor asked, "Are they armed?"

No visible weapons. Sorana went on to describe what seemed to be farmers.

"Ow, damn." Eliot held up his arm. There was a thorn stuck in his forearm. Blood was visible. He pulled it out. "Dang, that stings."

Sorana said, "Venom."

Visor asked, "Will he be okay?"

"Fleur Du Mal, Eastern strain, single impale—numbness, perhaps itching."

"What if we get impaled several times?"

"Enough venom causes temporary paralysis. It's not fatal to humans."

The assassin was a botanist as well?

The Blade of Mercy doubled back a distance before setting up camp. They smoked some snake meat for later consumption. It took two more days to reach the River of Sin. They changed course to follow its banks, veering away on occasion to avoid contact with larger groups of vardal. None of the farmers or travelers they met knew anything about cyborgs or anyone matching Mercy's description of Amaranthine.

Sorana captured a suspicious vardal on a night patrol. They interrogated him for some time without success beyond learning his name was Ulric. Visor and Sorana took him into the woods and were eventually able to extract some information. They returned to Rapture for healing. "Sorry."

Rapture said, "I understand."

"A telepath would have made this a lot easier." Visor regretted saying that, even though it was the truth.

Eliot asked, "What's the plan?"

Visor said, "Loring and Athian stay here to guard Rap and Ulric. The rest of us head out now."

# Chapter 60

Amaranthine

The Blade was concealed half way up a gentle slope. Sorana signed, They believe him.

Visor signed, Maybe.

Down on the main path, two vardal thugs guided Eliot. Eliot was blindfolded and had his wrists bound with twine.

One vardal led Eliot and second brought up the rear. The vardal talked, but were too far away for Visor to understand the words.

Visor slipped but caught himself.

Cespenar flew in and landed on Visor's backpack. "There is a structure ahead. Maybe three minutes. Looks like an old house."

Visor signed, This is probably it. Go. Don't let them get Eliot inside.

Sorana headed down to the pathway.

Visor continued until he had line of sight to the house's front door and a view of Eliot below. Sorana approached the vardal, letting her long hair hang out of a hood that obscured her face. She clutched her stomach and doubled over.

The lead vardal called to Sorana in vardal. "Who are you? Stop there!"

Sorana stopped. "I'm sick." Her legs wobbled and she visibly struggled to breath.

The vardal dropped the twine and approached Sorana cautiously. Another vardal came out of the house.

Visor aimed Ninette at the vardal that was trailing Eliot, placing the crosshairs of the magnified sight on his center of mass. He aimed up two feet to account for arrow drop. He loosed the arrow and knocked another, but the vardal was already down writhing on the ground.

Eliot removed his blindfold and ran off the side of the path.

Sorana efficiently disabled the lead vardal.

Visor shot the house vardal in the chest, and he fell.

Visor found Cespenar hiding in a nearby bush. "See if there are more thugs about."

Cespenar saluted and took off.

Visor met Eliot and Sorana below. The three vardal were dead. They found another one inside. The thug negotiated for his life, confirming some of Visor's guesses and directing the Blade of Mercy to the basement, where a prisoner was being held. Visor found the vardal prisoner with one leg chained to the floor. "This is good, but I prefer more spice."

The prisoner said, "The spice of life is best tasted cold, wouldn't you say?"

Visor said, "I hear WaterCrescent is cold this time of year."

The prisoner sat up. "How is the Tower Witch?"

"Amaranthine, is it?"

"Yeah, I know. Yam is fine."

"Yam? How did you get to that?"

"I tried Am but that confused people. 'Am what?' Ammie sounds too much like Amy."

"I'd imagine. Mercy's well, and sends her regards." Visor unlocked the chain. "Can you walk?"

"Yeah. I could use some water." He struggled slightly in getting up. "The witch can be a real witch sometimes. I figured with Yam, I could say it's short for Yamaranthine. That way she'll still be happy and no one's going to confuse Yam with a girl's name or potato."

"That sounds well thought out." Visor found some water and brought the pitcher to Yam. "Tell me about the Catalyst."

The Blade of Mercy chained up the remaining thug, recovered Yam's belongings and other supplies, and headed back to camp. Yam shared what he knew of Eurydice and the specifics of the Catalyst. It was inside a prison, underground in Eurydice. He didn't know if the people holding him were employed by Maciate. He suspected they were not police.

The Blade returned to camp.

Visor asked, "Where's Rap?"

Athian said, "She's just using the privy—should be back shortly. Sorana?"

"Scouting."

"Is this him?"

Visor nodded. "Yam. He's given us a lead on the Catalyst, and some good information on entry into Eurydice.

Athian prepared the horses for travel. "Is he coming with us?"

"It's best if he does, don't you think?"

Athian asked, "Do you feel up to it?"

Yam said, "I think so."

Visor said, "It would be better to have you. We'd just never get all the information just talking."

Loring hacked a spluttering cough. It wasn't a good time to get sick.

Burke growled. He was eyeing Yam warily as he prowled into camp.

Yam said, "Whoa. Cat doesn't like Vardal?"

Burke whined and spat.

Visor approached Burke delicately. "I don't know. Others didn't seem to bother him. Did they put some kind of chemicals on you?"

Yam smelled his armpit. "It's quite possible. Also, I was chained for quite some time without access to facilities. You probably noticed that."

"We've all been traveling."

A woman gasped. Rapture stared at Yam with wide eyes. She pressed her back against Gebuhrman.

Eliot casually positioned himself behind Yam.

Visor said, "Yam, I guess out of procedure, we should check—."

Yam turned and grabbed Eliot's wrist.

Eliot tried to draw a weapon, but Yam knocked it away and punched the larger Eliot in the ribs. Eliot doubled over.

Loring stepped up and swung his bow at Yam.

Yam ducked and kicked Loring in the stomach.

Loring fell to a knee, breathless.

Yam kicked Loring to the ground.

"Sorana!" Visor drew Fifi and got Yam's attention. He took a step back. "Sorana! We need you!"

Rapture screamed, "Soranaaaa!"

Recovered, Loring closed aggressively on Yam from behind. He thrust a dagger.

Yam sidestepped Loring's attack, grabbed his wrist, and gave Loring a hard elbow to the chin. Yam caught the dagger mid-air.

Loring fell, out cold.

Visor thrust and parried with the finely balanced Fifi. He had a reach advantage, but Yam was faster and stronger.

Athian attacked with a tent pole.

Yam blocked Athian's pole strike on his arm and deflected it up over his head. He closed and stabbed Athian in the gut. Yam spun behind Athian and stabbed him in the back as well.

Visor tried to close, but Yam ran the other way.

Yam ran past Ulric, delivering an efficient, Sorana-style coup de grace upon the bound prisoner. Yam spun back to face Visor.

Visor held Fifi at guard and backpedaled.

Burke pounced onto Yam's back and clamped his jaw onto the back of his neck. Burke had grown. He probably weighed nearly as much as Yam.

With Yam distracted and slowed by Burke, Visor was able to drive Armaan's blade into Yam's thigh. He aimed low to avoid Burke.

Yam twisted and fell. The blade must have lodged in bone because it was pulled from Visor's grip. Yam pulled Fifi out of his leg.

Rapture was healing Athian.

"Rap, Run!" Visor backed up and withdrew Ninette. "Get on Gerb. Get back to the ship!"

The cat was on the ground and whining, a dagger in his hip.

Cespenar flew past Yam and flashed a light in his face.

Yam swatted at the pixie.

Cespenar flew out of reach.

Visor aimed for Yam's center of mass. He was about to shoot when there was a blur of motion.

Sorana knocked Fifi out of Yam's hands. She took time to scan the camp site for other threats.

The scan proved costly. Yam took advantage of her distraction, punching Sorana in the sternum.

Sorana fell back, staggered. She pulled out her baton, but it ended up on the ground.

In ensuing flurry of attacks, it looked for a moment as if Yam might get the upper hand. He was stronger. But he was clearly suffering from previous damage.

Sorana landed a groin-chin-sternum combination that knocked Yam flat on his back. There was a 'crack' upon the last impact. Sorana doubled over and cradled her fist and forearm, her eyes wide and jaw open in a silent scream. Gathering herself, she released her serrated dagger. She staggered toward the unmoving Yam, wincing with every step.

Are you kidding me? "Sorana, go to Rap." Visor waited for Sorana to clear the zone then shot a broad head, barbed tipped arrow into Yam's ribs. The arrow hit the target, but there was a metallic clank and it fell to the ground. Yam didn't react. Visor cautiously circled around Yam and shot a field point arrow into his pelvis. It sunk in deep and did not provoke a reaction. Satisfied that Yam was actually dead, Visor moved close and prodded the body.

Eliot wheezed. "What the hell was that? Metal inside his body?"

"A cyborg." Visor poked around. The body was mostly blood and guts like any other.

"But why attack us? Must have been the vampiric telepaths—reprogrammed him."

"Vampires can't do that. Neither can human telepaths. Cyborgs are agents of the Catalyst."

"They had him chained up."

"Yeah, I don't know exactly what was going on, but I don't think the other thugs were in on it."

Eliot grunted as he moved to check Ulric. "We won't know now." Eliot cradled his ribs. "Shouldn't your nymph be healing Loring before the cat?"

Raptured said, "Loring will be fine. And you will be too if you'll stop talking."

Eliot said, "Your assassin's arm—she kept fighting. What is she?"

"You should probably stop talking." Visor found some papers on Yam, but nothing that helped him figure out what was happening.

Rapture said, "Athian will be the longest to recover. Maybe half an hour to get everyone stable enough to move."

Eliot said, "I haven't been checked yet."

Rapture said, "I know."

Loring awoke and gave a spluttering cough.

Rapture said, "I don't know why he won't get over that cold. I keep thinking I killed the infection, but it returns."

Visor said, "It could be what Athian has."

Rapture said, "That upset stomach?"

Visor said, "It could be different in him. Anyway, we need to get on to Eurydice."

Eliot said, "I don't think we should put much stock in Mercy's plan at this point."

"We'll be fine."

They made their way back to the river before camping.

Sorana put some green wood on the fire. The smoke it generated helped ward of insects.

Visor helped apply some bitter leaf extract to Rapture's hard-to-reach parts. She was sensitive to insects and the green, bitter extract repelled them. Unfortunately, she hated the smell, too.

With Rapture tucked in, Visor tied a hammock for himself, making sure it was far enough off the ground to avoid vermin.

Visor awoke to a shock of pain. A snake had bitten him in the leg. He grabbed Fifi and rolled over to kill the snake. In the pain and confusion, he fell out of the hammock. He got up on a knee, but his leg was already getting numb. There was another sting in his back. It wasn't a bite, though.

Behind him, a vardal in melodic metal armor straddled a massive snake that must have weighed two thousand pounds. He held a small crossbow.

Snakes were everywhere.

Everything went dark.

# Chapter 61

Eurydice

Eliot pointed as effectively as he could in shackles. "Told you so."

Visor said, "Well, you can run the show next time."

"I should have been running it this time."

"Hind sight is perfect."

Vardal infantry surrounded the captured Hand of Mercy. Giant snakes with vardal riders led the group.

Rapture was riding Gebuhrman, doubled up with a female vardal captor.

Sorana and Athian were hand-bound and leashed to Gebuhrman.

Visor said, "Besides, you're an asshole. I'd spend all my time soothing things over with Athian and the other girls."

Eliot said, "And you think with your dick."

"It works."  
"You hired us. We didn't ask to be a part of this. Taking orders from some recluse in the forest ... what did you think was going to happen?"

"I thought I would get Rap out, which I did."

"An extraction is completely different than spy games. What did you do—pay off a vardal guard and outsmart some ogres?"

"That was my original plan, but then it turned out that having Sorana made it easier to just kill everyone."

"Sometimes, violence really is the answer. Dammit—it's itching again."

"Well, I'm not scratching."

Eliot jogged to catch up with riding snake they were tied to, lifted up his leg and itched the inside of his thigh. "Ah ..." The snake pulled the rope taunt and Eliot lurched forward. "You'd think they would remove the shackles while we walk—get us there faster."

"I don't think they care too much about your jock itch. But you know, a siren could keep down the rash, if she wanted to."

"Well guess I'm not the lady's man."

"Next time we stop, just smile and tell her she's pretty."

"She's a siren."

"It still works." Visor looked around. They'd been descending into a valley the past few hours. The rocky structure was closing in overhead, forming a cavern. "The good thing is that it looks like we're getting into Eurydice. Mercy's plan worked after all."

"Ah, the old 'get captured while camping' plan."

"Right, and then an opportune moment, Pixie will rescue us."

"And the part about getting Loring eaten by a giant snake?"

"That's all part of the deception. We appear to be incompetent to get their guard down, then when they're not looking, whamo!" They passed a check point—a wooden mini-tower in the middle of the cavern. "See, this was the easiest way in." They later passed a housing community. Some vardal civilians appeared to be tending a field of giant mushrooms. Some young, curious males began following the group at a distance. "Farmstead?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Mushrooms and snakes ... I wonder if they go good together."

"I could see it, if you boiled.

"I usually like to grill."

"I think then the meat would be pretty chewy and the mushroom would dry out. Frying would work if you use enough lard."

"You'd be better off with a dipping butter or ketchup."

"Hmm, I was thinking lemon."

"Oh, is snake meat like fish?"

"I don't know. I think it depends on whether it's a salt water or fresh water snake."

"Aren't there salt water and fresh fish?"

"Yeah, I guess it would be most similar to–". They came to a halt.

Eliot scratched. "Ahh ... finally."

There were half a dozen horsemen blocking the path of their captors. The leader was a male in brass highlighted armor with a full plate helm. His tone was smooth and assured. After some amount of conversation, he dismounted and walked among the group.

Eliot leaned in close. "Can you understand him?"

"From what I can hear, it's mostly just posturing. It sounds like political crap."

"Oh, you're language, then. They're arguing for ownership of us. I may not speak vardal, but I know a military officer's body language."

"And this vampire has a language all his own."

"You know him?"

"Yeah, the last time I saw him, he was being hauled off in a cage. He still owes me." Visor winked. "We'll be fine."

Armaan strolled past Gebuhrman, still speaking in vardal. "It might be healthiest for all involved to release the half-breed. Not that I have particular care for insane assassins—it's just that I'm in the vicinity, and I've always had this insane fear of dying as collateral damage."

The vardal leader lost patience. "You're wasting time."

Armaan ignored him and strolled past Visor. He gave Visor a sideways glance, but otherwise did not acknowledge him. "Sanity being a fleeting thing ... of all the things I've missed, it's been my sanity, and my sword. Ah, she was a fine one. But then, I suspect I'll soon have my hands on Fifi again."

Eliot whispered, "He doesn't have fangs."

Visor said, "Yeah—different kind of vampire."

"Move on! Push through them!" The vardal officer turned on Armaan. "This is our capture. You cannot intervene."

Armaan shrugged. "Oh, dear Sous-Lieutenant, it was never my intention to take them. I only meant to entertain you while we waited."

"And you have wasted time. Move out!"

Visor said, "He's delaying them."

Eliot said, "I can tell. But for what?"

"I imagine the vampire queen."

"Do you know her, too?"

"We spent some time together in Raykez."

"You didn't give her some pillow talk and sneak out, I hope—you know a woman scorned."

"I'm not sure, exactly. I ended up in a coma."

"Sounds like quite a night."

"It might have been."

"The troops that captured us are vardal city guard—possibly militia." Eliot scratched. "Armaan's mounted group looks like royal guard. You think the queen's coming for a booty call?"

"I've been told I'm not that good. I imagine the queen is coming for Sorana."

"You know, in another place and time, that might be hot."

"She can be hot."

"Which 'she'?"

A sound of flapping of wings passed over the group. There was a gentle breeze. He could make out a large animal but it was too dark to identify.

The city guard discharged gasps of alarm. Some drew weapons.

The snakes and Gebuhrman shifted nervously, sensing a predator.

Armaan's cavalry controlled their well-trained horses and formed a semi-circle in front of the confused city guard. One of Armaan's cavalry said, "For all who have ne'er before been so blessed as to have gazed upon Reine le vampiric, you will today learn what it is to awe! Fall to your knees and behold the Wondrous Lady. Bow your heads as the Icon of Perfection graces us!"

A winged, black and silver creature glided in, flapping more vigorously and stretching out its legs to land. Its wings and front legs were integrated, like a bat's. Its body size was close to that of a giraffe. It was sleek with a fine bone structure and tone muscles. It's leathery, black skin was covered by small silver scales highlighted. Symphonic metal highlights provided additional protection and decoration. A row of ten horns ran from its beak-like muzzle to its shoulders, peaked by two large horns on its forehead. The six largest horns were reinforced by vardal-made symphonic metal ringlets, each encrusted with numerous gemlets. The dragon wore a metallic, gem encrusted diadem.

Eliot said, "Is that ..."

Visor said, "A dragon."

"I thought they were ..."

"Extinct?"

"He's shiny."

"I think it's a girl."

"Isn't it kind of dark to see under there?"

"Judging by the jewelry and body shape."

The dragon landed, and Visor could see the rider. She was dressed in deep purple robes with a red cape and blue sash. Her cape and sash had a golden, frilled edge. She wore black gloves and boots. Her hood darkened her face in the underground lighting so that her skin was completely hidden.

She dismounted—deliberately and feebly—and approached the city guard officer. She was of average female vardal height to begin with, and with her limited mobility and poor posture, was anything but imposing. Armaan walked with her. He offered his arm, but she waved him off and continued.

Eliot narrowed his eyes. "How long ago did you, you know?"

"Must have been the beer goggles."

The queen signed and Armaan translated into words. "Release her."

The officer said, "With all due respect, we found these people near a crime scene, and—" The officer fell heavily to the ground.

The city guard's second-in-command knelt to check her officer, hopped back up, and drew her mace.

Armaan stepped up to protect the queen.

The giant riding snakes moved aggressively, then fell hard to the ground, lying motionless. The rest of the guard tensed in nervous hesitation.

The second in command said, "Nazaire will hear—" She fell to the ground and lay motionless.

The queen spoke in a frail voice. "Release her."

The vardal guard riding with Rapture slid off of Gebuhrman and hesitantly pushed the rhino in the direction of the dragon. Confused, Gebuhrman didn't move. The rest of the guard picked up their leaders and cleared a path between the rhino and vampire queen.

Armaan sighed loudly and pointed his sword at Sorana. "The other 'her'."

The vampire queen ran her finger on the back of Armaan's neck.

Armaan said, "The Advisor to Mourning as well."

Eliot said, "I hope you're up for it."

Visor said, "Hey, did you say you wanted to run this party?"

"Next time—I'll let you take this one."

"Thanks, man."

"I always got your back."

A guard removed Visor's bindings. He and Sorana approached the queen.

Armaan said, "The rest of you may go."

The riding snakes were able to move again.

Visor signed to Armaan, _My friends?_

Armaan said, "Leave the prisoners—and their gear, particularly any jeweled swords. I never liked another man holding my jewels."

The city guard did as instructed, leaving the Blade of Mercy's gear.

Armaan found Fifi.

The queen signed to Sorana, _Walk with me._ The two started off.

Armaan and Visor flanked the girls.

Visor signed, _So, are we even, then?_

How many friends?

Does the siren count? She came along voluntarily.

I guess not.

Three then.

So you owe me one.

The dragon walked behind the men.

The queen's stride became stronger as they walked, soon matching Sorana's in perfect unison, despite carrying a spiked metal mace on her hip, among other equipment. She led them behind an abandoned fortification, blocking line of sight from Rapture's group. They stood on the precipice of a massive cavern. Hundreds of structures lay far below.

Armaan said, "That is Eurydice proper below—the main housing district."

"I'll have to take your word for it. I can't see much." Visor felt a sudden wave of déjà-vu.

It looked like Armaan was suffering some ill effects as well.

"I have lived here for years. It is my home." The queen spoke in a sweeter and stronger voice. "And there was always something missing. I have searched so many years ... from Raykez to Jortal's glaciers ... to the Zealand Sea." The vampire queen pulled off her gloves. Her skin was young and healthy. Her nails were painted. She wore a jeweled bracelet on her right wrist that had fine chains connecting to thumb and pinkie rings. It matched her necklace, a sizeable lattice of diamonds, amethysts and topazes. A metallic, flexible truss ran up her forearm under her robe. Her left hand had at least nine rings on it. One of them matched the description of the Ring of Uncreation. "I bribed alfanar and threatened ogres. I haggled with sirens and commissioned oracles."

The vampire queen faced Sorana and took one of her hands. "And now, after all this time, you are here." She pulled back her hood.

# Chapter 62

The SaSade Mirror

"Do you know who I am?" The vampire queen wore earrings and a tiara to match the other jewelry. They were covered with diamonds and purple and blue gemstones.

Sorana said, "The vampire queen."

The queen motioned to her face emphatically. "Hello! Look at me."

"A clone."

"As if! How would that work?"

"We would both be clones."

The queen laughed, but stopped when she realized Sorana wasn't. "Seriously? Holy Akem's Razor, girly, try sister. Twin sister, actually—mirror twin—separated at birth ... yada yada yada. My name today is Europhette Zanatos but my birth name was Europhette SaSade, and you were born Fleurette SaSade." Europhette shook her head wistfully. "It has been so long."

"I see." Sorana pulled her hand away and crossed her arms.

"And this is Leigh. She's like our grandniece, or some sort of cousin, whatever." Europhette stroked the dragon's muzzle.

"Mother's a dragon?"

"How would that work, you goof?"

"Then how?"

"Lynn was born vardal and she was our half-sister." Europhette hid her mouth with her hand, as if to mute her voice. "But some evil witch turned her into a dragon." She giggled and snorted, then straightened herself. "I'm sorry. I know that's not funny." She made a jazz hands motion. "Freak girl. Sorry—I'm just nervous."

"Why?"

"Why?" Europhette furrowed her brow. "Well, duh, because you are here, my sister. Because there is no one else like us in the world. No one else I can talk to. No one I can play Archon with. I'm so stoked. Aren't you?"

"Like us?"

"You know—totally awesome." She studied Sorana. "You still don't even know what I'm talking about. What's your damage?"

Visor said, "She's been fairly isolated."

"Isolated? Like under a rock?" Europhette scoffed. "Haven't you ever wondered why you still have the body of an Olympian? The strength of a man twice your size? Why you sink in salt water and don't bleed?"

Sorana said, "I train a lot."

"Oh, sister, my pretty sister, this is like way mind-blowing. I don't know where to start. You—we—are totally optimized. We don't bleed because we don't have the plumbing. Instead, we have expanded lungs and enhanced neural processors that help us do everything from dance to generate plagues."

Visor signed, _Catalyst_.

Sorana said, "Can you help me find the Catalyst?"

Europhette frowned. "The Catalyst? Can't we just do that later? I haven't even seen it in like forever."

"You've seen the Catalyst?"

"Yeah but not recently cause Uncle Lee—well, we had a disagreement and so now I'm not allowed to go back into the asylum because he took away the veil and now the Snowman can find me if I go back." The vampire queen sighed. "Well, okay, so it's like Tyrion—That's Lord Nazaire, whatever—was having trouble conceiving. I'm good at fixing people so he comes to me and says that they've been having trouble conceiving and he'll give me the Fatale prediction if I fix them. So I fix one of his wives and they make a baby. Then he's like 'Can you fix the vardal population?' As if!" Europhette scoffed. "I told him 'sure', but that I would need a rad power boost so I went back to Uncle Lee and he told me he'd let me use the Catalyst if I made trolls for him so I found some old troll bones in a cave and made new trolls for Lee but," Europhette took a deep breath, "when I went back to Lee with the trolls, he lied, like all men do, and said he needed the Catalyst to build himself a little fort inside the asylum. So then Tyrion is like, 'when can you fix the vardal women' and I told him about Lee. So then Tyrion's all mad and like 'Then I'm going to see if the sirens can help me' and I'm like 'what-ever'."

Europhette waved her hand with such emphasis that Armaan had to lean away to avoid getting incidentally smacked. She said, "Then of course the sirens won't help him, so he captured a few and then asked me for some vampires to run experiments on the sirens. I guess it worked some because that's when he went and got the ogres to help him take Amaranthine—er, WaterCrescent—whatever, and he said the experiments looked good but he needed more sirens so he was going to go capture more. I guess that's when the war started."

Visor said, "So if we go get you the Catalyst, the war would be over?"

Europhette said, "No doy, or another mana banana."

"It will or won't help?"

"Oh, like totally."

"Which?"

"What?"

Armaan said, "You're going to let them go? They've seen your face."

"What do you think I'm going to do? Drain everyone? The whole vampire queen thing again?" Europhette shook her head. "You say that every time, Armaan. Don't worry. You won't remember this." She stepped close to Armaan and touched his chest. "You are so like your father." She spoke melodramatically. "Armaan's father was mine—the love of my life. Oh, that fate would have been altered. I loved him and he me. But he wanted children, a gift I could ne'er provide. I left him before he would leave me. He never knew why. He calls me cold ... frozen. Armaan doesn't know what he means to me, now a man himself. Beautiful, isn't he?"

Armaan put his hands on Europhette's hips.

Europhette shook her head slowly and turned back to Sorana, slipping away from Armaan. "I know you think you love him, but you don't. They will abandon you—the oracle and the Godiva—whether it's when they discover your nature, lose interest in you, or simply wither and die. You can't compel them forever." Europhette took Sorana's hands in hers. "You should stay with me. We are family. I can't promise you will like me. I do promise I will never lie to you, and that I will never abandon you."

Sorana asked, "Why did you leave him?"

Europhette asked, "Armaan's dad? To avoid the drama and a lot of crying. I just figured why go through all the heartache—for him and me. I mean, guh, like what's the point if you're going to end up getting dumped anyway?"

"But you loved him."

"Well, yeah, like totally, but that wasn't the point."

"Why not make him choose?"

Europhette stood stunned for a moment. "Then if he didn't want me, it would have been on him. See, that's the sensible sister I never had!"

"I cannot compel Visor. I am assigned to him."

"Au contraire, ma soeur. You totally can!" Europhette backed up to and leaned against Armaan.

He held and kissed her. His eyes were closed in concentration.

"You can do whatever you want, sister."

Embracing Europhette from behind, Armaan slid a hand under her belt.

"Whoa there, sailor!" Europhette wiggled out of his grasp and hopped away. "This port is closed, at least until I see a ring on the finger." She held up her hand. "Well, another one."

Armaan looked confused.

Sorana said, "I told him to."

"What's that, sister?"

"I told Visor to touch me. He didn't want to."

"Not even! I mean you have one serious 'girl needing rescue' routine going on. Guys love that." Europhette pointed to Visor.

Visor said, "I probably was just trying to help."

Europhette said, "I mean, if it weren't for the whole 'introverted assassin' thing, you'd be the mistress of MILF. Trust me: 'girl needing rescue' works way better than 'Holy crap she's the vampire queen'. Do you know how hard it is to be attainable as the queen?" She pointed at Armaan.

Armaan said, "She's yet to be attained, or so I imagine."

Europhette said, "Everyone assumes you're some kind of sexual predator with dungeons of whips and chains. As if! And, by the way, you'll have to tell me what he's like sometime. Well, what it's like, for that matter. Why are all the good ones bound or insane?" She took Sorana's hands. "There's just so much to say and to do, now that you're here."

Sorana shook her head. "Europhette ... sister, I don't know what to say."

"Say 'yes'. Promise you'll stay with me."

"I'm sorry. I can't ... right now."

"I understand. I didn't know how this would go today. I'm just glad that at least one of us didn't end up dead." Europhette laughed and snorted. "But really, I hope that one day you will see that you belong with me. And know that whatever you choose—whatever happens—in the end, I will always love you." She smiled self-consciously and looked up. "Gag me with a spoon. That sounded way better all the times I practiced. Anyway, I guess you want to go soon to get the Catalyst. But first, I would like to, you know, since you didn't really get a chance to talk." She held up her hand near Sorana's face.

Sorana nodded and cringed.

Europhette said, "It won't hurt." She touched Sorana's cheek. "Close your eyes. Do you remember anything of mother?"

"No."

"What is the earliest thing you remember about anything?"

Sorana considered for a moment. "Mercy was teaching me how to lace my boots."

"Wow! Your mind is—talk about 'here and there, everywhere'. It's okay, though. I don't mean anything bad."

"Mercy gives me treatments. They help stave off madness."

"Oh, Really? Is she a doctor? Never mind. Go ahead."

"Okay, there is another thing. I sometimes dream ..." Sorana looked at Visor. "They will not remember this?"

"I promise, sister. They're like totally wasted."

"Okay." Sorana closed her eyes. "I was at a well—no, a bridge. There were rocks below." Sorana gasped and pressed her hand over Europhette's. "It's so clear—like it is happening right now. It's not actually a bridge at all. It is a stone wall, at the edge of a rock quarry. I am walking—headed home. A child, my little brother, is following me. I am looking back at him. He slipped on a loose stone. He fell into the quarry. He is hurt—bad."

"-ly."

"I don't go to help him, though. I look down at him. I look at the bridge with the loose stone. Now I'm back, where I'd be if I'd been following him the whole time. I'm confused—guilty, somehow."

Europhette said, "Bogus. But it's fine, pretty sister. Let me give you something. I bought this retro-prediction. We are at the edge of Marinet Lake. The lights reflecting in the water are from a symphonic forge. The woman is our real mother. We are the babies she's holding."

"She's beautiful." Sorana placed her hand on Europhette's face. The sisters sang together:

On this shore, I rest and hope,

Under Aurora's Bridge, whose radiance chose you

Chose you both

Europhette said, "That was one expensive memory. Let's see, what did he say ... 'We only give away dick and bubblegum, and we're fresh out of bubblegum.' Anyway, your turn. You were headed back to town. You are there. Then what?"

"I'm walking, minding myself. People are looking at me. I'm afraid—so very afraid—of being ..." Sorana went on to describe the experience, becoming ever more agitated as she continued. Her body was tense—shaking and sweating. She cried out and struck the vampire queen hard enough to knock her back. Sorana's eyes shot open, wild and dilated. She crouched defensively and looked around at the others. "What! What are you looking at?"

Armaan shook his head slowly ... sadly.

Visor reached for Mercy's salts. "Velsignet, calm down. We need to get back to reality here."

The dragon crept closer to Sorana.

Europhette was crying, covering her mouth. Her cheek was dripping red fluid from a deep, bleeding cut. "I'm sorry. I'm sooo sorry."

"Stop it! Stop looking at me!" Sorana touched her forehead and inspected her glove, straining to focus.

Visor crouched. "Sorana, sweetie, have some water."

Europhette said, "Sister, I swear, I didn't mean to."

Sorana hyperventilated and passed out. She fell into the waiting arms of the dragon.

# Chapter 63

Veils of Gray

"And then we just followed the river until we got captured by your vardal friends." Visor, walking along beside the dragon, rebalanced the unconscious Sorana in her saddle. They traversed the precipice, overlooking the dim city of Eurydice. "Your ride looks lighter than I'd imagined. Her scales are so fine and smooth."

"Leigh keeps the heavy scales shed 'cuz I'm always taking her for the long flights. She's the fastest bird in the fleet."

Dragons shed their scales. That makes so much sense. That's how they can fly, yet also be perceived and recorded as heavily armored creatures. Visor stroked Sorana's leg. "I didn't think she could faint, after the things I've seen her do."

"She's just a girl." The vampire queen adjusted her cloak, fastening her broach. The cut on her cheek had quickly clotted and was already beginning to heal up. "Just like me."

Visor tripped over something. "It's a little dark for me."

"That's why you brought the pixie?"

"He's still around?" Visor kept pace with the dragon. "I haven't seen him since we got captured."

"Here and there. He's hiding." She waved her hand dismissively.

"Probably waiting for an opportunity to rescue us."

"So your plan was like to just follow the river?"

"Yeah, take the ship, go to the river, and follow it here."

"And before the ship, you came from a forest."

"Through Skarholt Forest."

"Where that tower witch lives."

"Mercy."

"So over the river?"

"Yes."

"And through the woods?"

"Exactly."

"To the vampire queen you go."

"That wasn't exactly intentional."

Europhette varied her pitch as she spoke. "Mercy knows the way, to guide the Blade, through the god-forsaken drow."

"That sums it up rather succinctly, though I don't know if 'drow' is accurate."

"It's slang."

"Like a racial epithet?"

"Like a get-punched-in-the-face racial epithet."

"I see. So, you and Sorana regenerate?"

"We do all kinds of things, except predictions of course, since we're not boys—oh, and not some other stuff. Well, I guess it's just some things."

"Like a troll's regeneration?"

"Sure, why not?"

"And telepathy, of course. Though I guess I already knew that."

She was silent for a few steps, then turned and gripped his face.

The dragon positioned its bared teeth near Visor's neck. Its warm, moist breath bathed his throat.

Visor held still.

Europhette's eyes stared into his, flaring to a familiar copper tint. In an instant, Sorana's sister was every bit the terrifying vampire queen of legends. She was linked to his mind, but it wasn't the shared exchange of verbiage and visions he'd experienced with human telepaths. This was a raid. She tore through is his mind at will, searching. Nightmares and dreams blended together with memories in an overwhelming torrent of images and words.

Europhette found what she was looking for. She studied the instant that Sorana pried into his mind, back on the _Virtuosa._ She replayed the scene from different perspectives—from Ranie's and Sorana's point of view. Sorana's point of view was distorted and discolored—probably sensory information that Visor's brain couldn't interpret.

Europhette relaxed, once again the bubbly, vibrant sister. "Shut up! She totally restored your memory, obviously, duh. I didn't know she knew how. Does she even know what she did?" She removed her hands from Visor's face.

The dragon relaxed and backed away.

"I don't think so."

Europhette opened a water skin on the dragon's pack, and splashed some water on her hands. "And she removed the link block."

"She did? How would that work? She didn't link with me before Ranie did."

Europhette wiped her hands on her clothing. "You weren't awake when she did that."

What? Oh ... oh, wow, no wonder the dream about Talon seemed so real. And that meant she had already known about Ranie. And she knew—

"You have been kind to her."

"But you weren't so kind to me. Why did you attack me—back in Raykez?"

"Yeah, that, so I was all like looking for Sister and then Tyrion's like 'I'll show you Fatale now' and I'm like 'okay'. So then I see you and that's where Snowman attacked Sister psychically and made her kill you and then she went all cuckoo." Europhette put her hands on her hips and stared off. "Hugh ... unless that was me. Anyways, I don't know how accurate it was though 'cuz those other guys you have back there weren't in it, and there was a dwarf and alfanar chick and your pixie was buzzing around and it was a frosty cave. Anyways, I thought maybe you'd know where Sister was so that's why I looked through your head, but you didn't know her so I had spies check on you on occasion."

"Fatale is from Tyrion?"

"No, tard! He's not an oracle, but Tyrion shared it with me."

"Okay, so you checked my memories, but why break my oracle ability?"  
"Oh, yeah, that. Well, that was just one of those things, you know."

"An accident?"

"Yeah, I just didn't want you to remember me 'cuz you mightta made Fatale happen and then it would be partly my fault if Snowman destroyed Sister. Well, not literally destroyed. Well, I guess literally spiritually, just not literally as in really dead, you know? But that's how I found out about Rap."

"What?"

Europhette sighed. "So like Fatale leaves you asking 'what the hell' about the psychic assault, the thing that made Sister kill you, so then I get you to show me what happened inside her head and that's where I first saw Rap and all of those predictions are grouped as Fatale-infernal."

"Rapture was part of—you had me do a prediction—wait, did you attack Rap?"

"Oh, you did not! What kind of ogre do you think I am? Oh 'vampire queen'—of course she's going to drain sirens!" She rolled her eyes. "Nooooo. I got permission from miss 'I'm so pretty' Lara first and all I did was search for leads on my sister and implant some suggestions to alter the outcome of Fatale-infernal in case, you know, it actually happens and so now I owe Lara all these grody-to-the-max birds that poop everywhere."

"The albatrosses?"

"She wants to be able to ride them."

"That's why she's starving herself."

"Probably—like she's not skinny enough. She's too skinny, miss 'I'm so pretty'. Ug."

"The birds aren't big enough?"

"Well, I have a twenty-footer that can carry the lightest Xandrians with no saddle or gear, but it has to have a headwind and run downhill to lift off. I'm thinking a twenty-three foot wing span will do what Miss Pretty wants. Then I can get back to the riding snakes."

"You made the riding snakes. That's how you paralyzed them."

"Hello, okay, if you grew giant snakes, wouldn't you like totally leave an off switch?"

"Do vardal have an off switch?"

"All conjoins have one. And nooooo, I didn't make vardal."

Armaan asked, "Why not dragons?"

Europhette asked, "What's that, sweetie?"

"Leigh can carry two, easy. Why not use dragons?"

"Because she paid for birds."

Visor asked, "You get to ride dragons?"

Armaan said, "And I get to drive."

"He has to drive. When he sits behind me, his hands wander like way too much."

Armaan said, "I thought the dragons would make rather effective chaperones."

Visor asked, "You literally turned your sister into a dragon? Um, totally literally?"

"It seemed the thing to do at the time. She was hunted and tired of running—tired of life, yada yada yada."

"What suggestions did you give Rap?"

"What?"

"When you were trying to prevent Fatale."

"Oh, the ones that I needed to."

"Did you program her to bind to me?"

"I made a few modifications. Does it matter?"

"Yes, it does to me."

Armaan said, "If you're getting the milk for free, you shouldn't ask where the cow came from."

Sorana sat up. "There is no way to know."

Europhette helped Sorana regain her feet. "All wrong. Here's a hint. It's not philosophical. It's like way fifth dimension."

Visor said, "Of course, in the fifth, the answer is 'no'."

Armaan said, "Of course ... so obvious."

Europhette helped Sorana dismount and stand. "Sister, are you recovered?"

Sorana nodded.

Europhette pointed into the dark. "My queen-palace is around that bend. You should drop by sometime. That's the asylum over there, behind the inn. Now they all call it the Temple of Liesen."

Visor said, "But I am a fourth dimensional being."

"Oh, for sure, Oracle—like totally." Europhette said, "You've been in his head, sister. What do you think?"

"I had to. A friend was in pain. She needed him to remember."

"Shut up! Free of that witch a couple of months and you have a gal pal?"

Sorana said, "You must have friends."

"I suppose I had a tight posse once, and a B.F.F. at times, but it's been a dick year since."

Armaan said, "I'll be your friend."

"As if! Let's see, Mister Hands." She started counting with her fingers. "First off, there's a Josephine in your life; and a little Antoinette on the side." She started swinging her hips. "A hottie number three is Anne-Laure; then some ale from Academy." She laughed and took Sorana's hands, trying to get her to dance. "A little bit of playing is his sport, thinking I'll be a good score. Gonna get me down on my knees, and brag o'r wine to Pierre-Louis. A little bit of Fleurette in his life, maybe he'll make you a wife." Europhette threw up a hand and spluttered. "Wooo, da-nanunt-nut!"

She was insane. The Queen of Vampires had completely lost it. But then again, maybe she just lived what others proclaimed. She quite literally could not care less what other people thought. She knew exactly who she was and had complete control over herself and her environment. She ran an empire as a passing fancy, and would go on to other fancies as they suited her. In a sense, she was saner and more alive than anyone else he'd ever known.

"Holy reality inversion, Donnie!" Evan was sitting next to him. She was in the Dodelige complex, even while he remained on the underground cliff over Eurydice. But from a different view, it wasn't a cliff. He was on the slope of a mountain, near a cave entrance. He had to lean back to keep from sliding down the slope. Lava rivers glowed beneath a cloudy sky—an underground sky.

A guy Visor didn't know, but certainly seem to know him, said, "Pink doesn't appear in the color wheel, when you wrap a rainbow." He then realized the guy was Eliot, even though he didn't look like Eliot.

Visor said, "You can't walk on a rainbow. They aren't wood."

Armaan said, "I respectfully withdraw my proposal."

Europhette sang, "Beau geste number five!"

Leigh, in vardal form, took Visor's arm, even though the dragon still loomed behind the dancing twins. She was watching Europhette, but at the same time, she faced Visor eye-to-eye. "She's a little quark pot, in and out."

# Chapter 64

Temple of Liesen

Reality converged. Visor's group was just returning to the vampiric guard, even though they'd just left. He was sure something discontinuous had just happened, but the concern faded from his mind as he focused on the current situation. They needed to find the Catalyst.

The Blade of Mercy was freed and re-armed.

The decrepit vampire queen remounted her dragon. She instructed Armaan and another guard named Xuan to accompany the Blade of Mercy into the asylum.

Inside the asylum, Rapture described her view point of the encounter with the vampire queen. There was definitely a lapse of time he couldn't account for.

Armaan overheard them. "Yes, she does that sometimes."

Visor asked, "Who does what?"

Armaan said, "The queen sometimes suppresses your memory. I'm told it's for your own good."

After working their way past a series of traps, the Blade of Mercy reached a guard room. The guards might have been former patients. They were a mix of races—vardal or vampires, a troll and a dwarf. Rapture identified them as cyborgs, by their smell. That was confirmed after some of the kills.

Their enhancements were minimal. It appeared that whatever physical enhancements were made were offset by mental side-effects. None were quite right of mind. They were poorly trained and undisciplined. The Blade of Mercy defeated them without taking casualties.

The Blade worked their way down from the asylum's entry level to the lower level, where mental patients were quartered. As they traveled, Sorana scribbled Vardal-somatic on Visor's arm. _The Queen is my sister. Sister claims that the dragon, Leigh, is related to us. We had another sister, Lynn, that was changed into a dragon. Leigh is descended from her._ _What is the last thing you remember?_

_We were walking away from the vardal guards._ Visor signed in front of his body, where only Sorana could see. _Next thing I know, we're returning._

Sorana switched to Vardal-sign. _Sister suppressed your memory again. She is able to alter genetics of creatures. She says I can too. We are mirror twins. She says I can heal and form a link—everything she can do. But I don't know how._

I don't know about that. It felt like you took over Ranie's link back on the Virtuosa.

_She created the troll that we fought back in the guard room. Maybe not that troll, but she made them after they were extinct. She made genetic adjustments to Rap. It was years ago, before you met—._ "Nnnnk!" Sorana clasped her head and doubled over.

Athian turned around. "She's losing it."

Cespenar, in Athian's backpack, provided light.

Rapture consoled her.

Athian said, "It's happening when we pass by the asylum quarters—some of them, anyway."

"It's probably the occupied ones. She might be picking up a sort of psionic energy. Xuan!" Visor called to their point man. "Hold up."

Athian said, "No telling how long some of these patients have been here." He touched the wall. "There is something written here."

Cespenar shed light on the writing.

Visor did not recognize the letters. He beckoned Armaan up to them.

Eliot took Armaan's place as rear guard, disappearing into the shadows.

Armaan inspected the writing, "It's traditional vampiric. You still see it on occasion, but most everything nowadays is in vardal. It says a human male is in these ... accommodations. It is out of date, unless he's over a hundred years old. He had a title— _Grande marquis_. This is his family crest." He wiped dust and spider web off a faded carving in a plaque. Three women, arranged in a triangle around a central figure, released different birds. One might have been a dove. It was too worn to tell. Each bird carried something.

Rapture helped Sorana away from cell door.

Visor said, "We need to keep moving."

The main passage curved and sloped down to a deeper sub-surface level. The hand-cut passages gave way to natural formations. They took a side pathway that opened into a cavern. Its rocky floor sloped up to a crest. Visor signaled the rest of the Blade to halt while he and Sorana crawled to the crest.

Beyond the crest was a gorge. A meandering canal flowed gently at the bottom. It was too dark to make our other detail.

Sorana explained in sign and somata that there were two guards on the far side of the canal: a troll and a dwarf. They were guarding a bridge and small dock on the other side. A raft and gondola were moored to a set of piers.

Visor signed, _Can they see us where we are now?_

Sorana signed, _Not if we stay down._

Visor signed to the group. _Turn Pixie off. Xaun move up. The rest of you hold back. Watch our rear._ Visor scooted away from the crest and detached the scope from Ninette. The scope slipped out of his grip and hit the stone ground. It rattled a couple of times as it rolled down the slope.

Xaun caught it and brought it back to Visor.

_It's fine._ Sorana never took her eyes off the guards below.

Visor crawled back to the crest between Xaun and Sorana. _Could you sneak up to them?_

Xuan signed, _Maybe, they're not paying attention. Sorana could for sure. Don't think I could get to the dwarf, though. Maybe you could snipe her._

The troll would be easier.

Xuan signed, _The alarm is probably in the shack by the dwarf. Put Sorana on the dwarf. You and I distract the troll. The pixie?_

Yeah. He lights up over the dwarf for distraction.

You want me to kite the troll to you?

Sure, but it's probably not necessary. Sorana will have the dwarf down in two moves.

There could be more we don't see.

Do you want to go scout more?

No, I might be seen. I'm betting the dwarves see at least as well as I do. Better if they're cyborgs.

_Botched cyborgs, if they're like the others._ Visor rose to a knee behind a stalagmite and looked through the scope. He could see through it as if the cavern were lit by a layer of bioluminescent fungus. He saw a female dwarf whittling something. The genderless, three-armed troll was picking its teeth. Visor ducked back down and waved Pixie forward.

The foursome huddled.

Visor said, "Okay, I can hit them, but I can't take the troll with just arrows. I need you two to get as close as you can. Sorana takes the troll. Xuan, just block the entrance to the shack. I'll watch and shoot whichever is closer to the shack when it looks like they've seen you. Cespenar, you light up targets for me. Distract them as you can.

The guardsman and the assassin crept forward at a deliberately modest pace. It was a tough call on strategy. More scouting would be nice, but they needed to keep progressing to avoid fatigue, both physical and mental.

A deep violet aura formed off to the left. There was a platform further back in the cavern, high up against the left wall. A snoozing vardal was on it. Cespenar was lighting him. He used violet light because vardal were nearly blind in that range.

Dwarves could see ultra-violet light, but the glow was dim and out of the dwarf's line of sight.

Visor would have to take out the vardal before the main skirmish started. It would be a tough shot. The platform provided cover against his lower position. There was a rope hanging next to him that disappeared into the wall, a likely alarm.

Visor did have a few of Mercy's shaped charge heads. The platform looked weak enough to be broken. That would cause some noise, though. An incendiary head might burn the rope, but not likely fast enough. No, he'd have to take out the vardal directly, then help on the dwarf and troll. He moved to a higher position, risking the additional visibility for a better angle.

Sorana was nearly in position.

Xuan wouldn't be able to get close to the dwarf without alerting the troll.

Visor kept waiting for Sorana to look back so he could signal about the vardal. But she was intently watching her target. Just how good was her hearing? He spoke in the lightest tone he could above a whisper, "Sorana". She didn't hear him.

The troll looked up and sniffed.

Visor couldn't afford to wait any more. He retargeted the vardal and fired. He missed, striking the wooden platform. It was a really tough shot.

The vardal woke and pushed off the blanket. He crawled to the end of the platform, dagger in hand. He saw the arrow and looked for Visor, thinking too late to take cover.

Visor sunk a broad head in the vardal's shoulder.

The vardal fell backwards on the platform, out of sight.

There was grunting from down by the bridge.

The broadhead may or may not have taken the vardal down. Visor knocked an arrow with an incendiary head, stepping forward into plain view. The head was heavy and the range reduced. He needed every step. He targeted the wall just in front of the rope and fired. He didn't hit the rope. Fortunately, the reason he didn't hit the rope is that the vardal reached up for the rope just in time to take the arrow in the back. Fire flared and engulfed the vardal, who stumbled and rolled off the edge of the platform.

Visor took a couple of steps toward the bridge and looked back through the scope. The dwarf slid a shield on as Xuan engaged her. She tried to shout a warning, but was too quickly on the defensive.

Sorana kited the troll. It already looked wounded. It was an easier target. Visor shot the troll in the ribs. Using the distraction, Sorana darted past it, swiping at the thigh. She ducked the troll's back hand swing, and fired a dart into its chest.

Burke bounded past Visor to support the attack.

The battle was soon over.

Visor retrieved his arrows. One of his broad heads was damaged. He attached an incendiary head to that shaft. He rejoined the group at the dock, where Armaan was already in the gondola.

Sorana dipped her fingers in the water and rubbed them together. "Elevated mineral content." She tasted it. "It won't hydrate."

Rapture asked, "What?"

Visor said, "It's salty. Any reason we shouldn't take the boat?"

Xuan said, "You're more visible."

Sorana said, "It's expected."

"Yeah." Visor peered through his scope in the direction of water flow. "The path looks walkable on either side."

Athian asked, "Are we sure we need to go downstream?"

The Blade looked around and at each other.

Xuan said, "It looks like that's how everything's set up."

Visor said, "If you look at where the platform is set, the alarm rope would go through to a downstream cavern."

Athian said, "Okay, as long as we all go the same way."

Visor said, "All right, all together downstream. We'll do path and boats. Me and Sorana on the right; Xuan and Armaan on the left. Rap and Athian in the gondola, along with Burke. Elliot—raft."

Xuan said, "The animal would be better on the path. And you can shoot from a boat."

"Yeah." Visor nodded. "Okay, Rap and Athian in the gondola with me. Eliot on the raft. The boats stay well behind the path walkers. We'll need Pixie's light and that will draw attention. Sorana and Burke up on the right. Xuan and Armaan on the left."

"What if our path ends?"

"Just hold up for the boats and we'll taxi you across." Visor helped Rapture into the gondola.

The Blade made their way down the dark cave. The walkers got out of sight.

Rap said, "Wait." She concentrated. "Stop the boat."

Athian drug the paddle on the stream bed.

Eliot stopped behind them, narrowly avoiding a collision.

"Sorana sees something. She's creeping forward. She signed something to Burke. I don't know what. The vampires have stopped. They're hiding on their side of the water. Sorana pulled out a throwing star. She's getting out of range. I'm moving up behind her, just close enough to see." Rapture's eyes were closed. She was so pretty, moving her head like a prowling cat while kneading the sides of the boat. "It opens up into a cavern on the right. I see a troll. Sorana's sneaking close. Okay, she's stopped. She's signing to me."

"Does she want you to distract it? Come back to us?"

"I don't know."

"We need to get the vampires across to help. Are they headed back?"

"No, they're still watching."

"Eliot, go get the vampires. Athian, get me into a shooting position."

Rapture rotated gracefully as Burke surveyed his surroundings. Her mane flowed, and Visor couldn't resist petting her hair. She purred. "Okay, I'm moving out. I think she wants me to distract it."

"Just look friendly, and inquisitive."

"Okay, he sees me—the troll does. He's moving toward me. He didn't draw a weapon. The cavern goes on behind him. There is some lighting, but it's behind him, so he looks shadowy."

"Like a silhouette?"

"Yeah, shadowy. I'm backing up, pretending to be scared."

"Good. Pull back."

"He's getting suspicious, so I'm waiting now. Sorana is on him. He's down. I think he's dead. Yeah, he's dead. Sorana's coming. Oh."

"What?"

"I think they found us."

"Just back up. Do you see anyone?"

Rapture said, "They shot at Sorana. I don't think they've seen me."

Visor repositioned himself to shoot and knocked an arrow. "Athian, take us up to the opening where Burke is. Be ready to stop mid-canal to give me a steady shot. Cespenar, turn down the light. Just leave enough so the boats don't bump. Rap, where are you now?"

"I backed around behind a rock. I'm safe but can't see anything."

"What do you hear?"

"I don't know ... something ... someone moving. Not Sorana. Something that might be talking but I can't understand the words."

Visor asked, "Because it's a different language or just muffled?"

Rapture concentrated. "I don't ..."

Visor could now see Burke. He was easy to spot with his white fur. "Rap, in a minute, I want you to sprint across the beach to the far side and then try to find cover. If no one shoots anything at you, come out and try to draw them closer. Those beached canoes might make good cover."

Rap said, "Okay."

Visor said, "Pixie, lights off. Go to the shore and be ready to light up targets for me."

Pixie flew off.

"Athian, take us in."

# Chapter 65

Catalyst

Visor aimed Ninette. "Now, Rap. Go."

Burke jogged across the open range to a canoe. He took cover.

A pair of dwarves stood together further into the cavern, near the crest of the slope leading up from the beach. The one with a long beard pointed at Burke and said something. The other, holding some kind of crossbow, gestured toward the dead troll.

Visor fired and hit the bearded dwarf somewhere in the shoulder. It wasn't a perfect shot. The gondola was moving. Visor drew an arrow and aimed again. "Go get them, Rap."

Burke burst out of a canoe and sprinted up the beach.

The dwarves yelled warnings. The crossbow dwarf took aim at Burke, but Pixie flew by and flashed a bright light in his light-sensitive eyes. The dwarf recoiled.

Visor shot the crossbow dwarf in the chest and he fell. Mercy made nice weapons.

The gondola landed. Visor hopped out.

Burke dragged down the remaining, wounded dwarf.

There was commotion further ahead in the cavern. Stalagmites, storage crates and the crest of the slope blocked Visor's view.

The vampires unloaded and took the lead. Xaun had the largest shield.

Burke jogged back to them. Some blood was visible on his fur.

Rapture knelt to check and pet him.

The Blade reached the crest.

Visor pulled an arrow from a dwarf's body. He could see the rest of the cavern now. It opened up to the left, to what appeared to be a large storage area. Beyond that, the cavern narrowed again. A pit running left-to-right blocked passage. A drawbridge was being cranked up from the far side. A single rope also traversed the pit, tied to pylons at the near and far side. Beyond the pit, the cavern was better-lit and decorated, with curtains and half-walls demarking areas for sleeping, eating and entertainment. A group of figures stood upon a central dais, having taken cover behind an overturned table. Above the table was a pulsing crystalline structure suspended from the ceiling. Numerous, tiny, blinking lights were embedded within it.

A vardal popped up from behind a storage crate on the left and threw a javelin.

Visor shot back and Rapture sent Burke.

The rest of the Blade followed the cat.

A second vardal revealed himself behind the storage crates.

In the back of the storage area, on the far left, there was a passage from another room. A dwarf and troll entered through it. How many more were coming?

Visor said, "Hold up!" The Blade of Mercy gathered defensively around Visor and Rapture.

A bolt struck the ground near Visor.

Athian cried out. A crossbow bolt stuck through his arm.

A projectile hit Xuan's shield.

They were easy targets out in the middle of the cavern. "Fall right! Fortify!" The Blade took cover in a wood-working area along the right wall. There was a partially completed rowboat suspended by some work benches.

Eliot knocked out a support leg so that the boat fell to the ground, offering more complete protection.

Visor took position behind a crane shaft and the boat.

Pixie shone a light on a pair of dwarves in a recessed balcony in the left wall above the pit.

The dwarves fired unusually large crossbows at the Blade. Their crossbows were mounted to the base of the balcony. They had mechanical cranks that reloaded the ammunition. The dwarves were protected by a half wall.

The crowd at the storage crates had swelled. Emboldened, they closed in on the Blade's position.

Burke circled behind them, looking for an opportunity to pounce on an isolated opponent.

Visor ducked down and attached a fragmentation head to a shaft. With his peripheral vision, he could see the rest of the Blade forming up for an imminent close melee.

Eliot took a bolt in the shoulder. He grunted, but looked like he was going to fight through it.

Visor popped up and fired. The arrow flew into the balcony recess and created a satisfying blast and echo.

Both dwarves fell over their crossbows.

Visor scanned the wall through Ninette's scope. There was another arrow slit, over the pit but near the same level as the recess. Further down the wall, on the other side of the pit, there was another an entrance to the wall-tunnel. Stairs let up to it.

One of the dwarf archers was recovering. Tuff little buggars, those cybernetic dwarves. He was running low on assembled shafts and couldn't keep them pinned with their cover and higher position. "Rap, can Burke jump the pit?"

Rapture was healing Athian. "What?"

"The pit, about thirty feet, could he jump across it?"

"I don't know. I think so."

"Have him do it. Then go up the tunnel on the other side."

"I can't see that far."

"But he'll be able to."

She sat down and concentrated.

Visor knocked another arrow and peeked over the crate.

Burke jogged back to get a running start.

One of the approaching vardal in the back of the approaching pack fell. There was a flash of metal as Sorana slashed the fallen and moved away before others could react. She nailed a dwarf with a dart and planted a throwing star in the troll's head. Having the group's attention, she drew them toward the beach, across Visor's field of fire. She was such a master tactician.

Only one or two cyborgs actually attacked the Blade at the crates.

Visor sunk an arrow into a vardal that was trailing Sorana.

Burke launched across the pit, and made it with a bit of room to spare. That jump had to be exceptional, even for a leopard in his prime. He avoided the bridge guards and ran up the stairs into the tunnel. Good kitty.

A huge troll joined the melee. He was bigger than the average ogre. He was well-equipped with mail armor and a spiked flail, crafted for him to use with two hands.

Sorana danced away from him, using the other cyborgs as cover. She signed, _break left three two one_. She broke to her left on the count of zero, and Visor shot a dwarf between the shoulders. Sorana reversed direction and smacked the distracted dwarf in the face with her baton before moving on. The troll knocked the dwarf down with a too-late swing of his flail.

A fire flared up to Visor's right. It smelled like oil.

"At the girl! Burn the girl!" That was a human male voice yelling from across the pit. That must be Liesen, or whoever was the current master of the Catalyst.

A container of flaming oil landed in the melee. Some splashed on Sorana's back. Her hair smoldered, but she didn't react as if it hurt much. If anything, the distraction benefitted her. The troll was afraid of the flame, and one of the vardal stopped to put out his clothing.

Sorana scooped up burning pitch on a throwing star and hurled it at the troll. A trail of flame followed the star as it flew. The pitch splashed onto the troll's clothing. It wasn't much of a fire, but it distracted him.

Pixie lit up a human woman standing on the other side of pit. She was reloading a sling with a skin of liquid.

Visor knocked an incendiary head arrow. He found the woman's bin of oil skins. He fired. The bin flared up in repeating bursts of burning oil.

With the flaming oil, the details of the hanging crystal were apparent. It was covered with intricate wiring. A metal device in the middle must have been the Catalyst. Metallic tubes stretched from the crystal to the floor and to a podium behind which Liesen stood.

There was a growling and a scream. Burke and a dwarf tumbled out of the tunnel recess and landed on the stone floor, on the near side of the pit. The cat landed on his feet. The dwarf did not.

Still trusting the rest of the Blade to guard his flank, Visor refocused on Sorana's melee. She led a crowd. She was so very fast and agile, staying teasingly just beyond their reach.

In frustration, the huge troll roared and swung his flail in a wide, low arc. The end of the handle crushed a vardal's helm. The impact leveled the vardal and redirected the spiked ball's arc, right to where Sorana had moved to doge it.

Sorana only had enough time to position her armguard to deflect the blow. She was knocked back several feet by the blow.

The troll bellowed triumphantly. The rest of Liesen's troops scampered back, clearing the troll's path to Sorana.

Lying helpless with a mangled arm and probably a lot of other damage, Sorana answered his snarl with resignation. No, it was more like relief ... a long-awaited acceptance. Visor could almost read her lips: "Finally." Or something that started with 'F'.

Sorry, Velsignet—not today. We still need you. Visor knocked a shaped charge head and fired it at the Catalyst. The crystal shattered.

Liesen's troops stopped, looking around in confusion.

The big troll made some sort of whining grunt then ran for the canal.

Others scattered.

The human woman lowered the draw bridge.

Some other troll charged Liesen.

Liesen escaped through a back door.

Rapture was working on Athian, who'd taken a spear to the shoulder.

"Rap! Help Sorana!" Visor pointed in Sorana's direction.

Rapture looked. "Heiliger Mond!" She hurried off.

Xuan went to cover Rapture.

Eliot said, "You destroyed the Catalyst."

Visor said, "Yeah."

"You just gave away Esselin."

"I kept us alive."

"What was the point of this mission? You made Loring's death for nothing."

Armaan said, "Well, not exactly for nothing."

Athian said, "Why not kill Liesen with that shot?"

Visor said, "If I'd taken the time to position for a shot at Liesen, the troll would have finished Sorana. Then if I'd missed, all of us."

"You might have hit! And why not the troll? We might have had a chance against the rest."

Visor shrugged. "Yeah, but—"

"But you would have killed her, too." Athian exhaled in disbelief. "So you destroyed the Catalyst?"

"I figured it would break the link—Liesen's control over the cyborgs."

Athian shook his head incredulously. "So to save Sorana, now Divin and Holley have to die?"

"I don't think it's that clear cut. We don't know what's going to happen in the more distant future."

Eliot pointed his finger accusingly. "Yeah we do! They're going to kill us. All of us! The ogres are going to rampage over the farmlands and choke Raykez to death. What were you thinking?"

Armaan said, "Perhaps the insanity is contagious."

Rapture was still hovering over Sorana's body.

Visor said, "We don't know that. All I knew at the time was that I could probably save Sorana. We don't know what happens now. Maybe the situation will come up where she does something to turn the war."

Eliot said, "The Catalyst would have turned the war. You could have controlled their generals."

"Come on, guys. How many times over has she saved our lives?"

Eliot said, "She wasn't destroying the Catalyst to do it! I don't understand what's going on between you and her. And you know what, she would kill or maim you in a heartbeat to get what she wanted."

Athian said, "Like what she did to Thomas."

Visor said, "Who?"

"Banshee Mortel, you really don't even remember." Athian was stunned. "You know, I've been holding my tongue, but what that woman has done to you two is—I don't know. She has her claws so deep that you don't even see it. She's destroying you and Rapture. I can't just stand by any more and say nothing. I only came along to watch out for Rap. You don't know what I gave up to come. My sister may never let me see her kids again."

Eliot said, "She's pure evil, man. Why can't you see that?

Visor crossed his arms. "Evil? Oh, come on."

Armaan said, "Well, with an Epictetus analysis, one might have to agree."

Visor said, "You guys need to get a little perspective here. Look, I just did what made sense. I would have done the same to save any of you." He gestured at Armaan. "Well, not you."

Eliot said, "People die in war! It's how you win."

Armaan said, "The price of freedom."

Visor said, "Don't you have some corpses to loot?"

Armaan wandered off.

Athian shook his head in resignation. "How could you? We can't stop Maciate ... ogres ... Xandria ... Alafos."

Eliot wore a twisted frown. "What are your orders now, sir?"

Visor sighed. "Secure the area. Athian, why don't you search the area for anything useful?"

"Yes, sir." Eliot set out.

Athian hung his head and walked off.

Visor checked on Sorana. Her Armguard was bent and twisted. "We won't be able to remove that without tools."

Rapture said. "Her arm is broken in two places. Her ribs are snapped from here to here. This lung is collapsed. I've stopped the bleeding."

"It could have been worse. That flail would have crushed a heavier person all the way through. At least went flying."

"I can't believe she's still alive."

Visor stroked Sorana's charred, blood-and-sweat matted hair. Her eyes were still closed. "She's amazing."

The siren hovered over the younger girl like a protective parent, searching for wounds and listening to her breathe.

The Blade of Mercy collected the remnants of the Catalyst. At least he could prove progress to Mercy. They collected other loot—jewelry, and some documents. Some described Liesen's cybernetic research on the asylum patients. They found a map that detailed the administrative, inmate, and lower temple sections of the asylum. Catacombs below the temple were noted but not detailed. Liesen likely fled there.

With the map, the Blade made an easy exit.

The vampire queen was waiting for them just outside the asylum.

# Chapter 66

Empowered

"Don!" Rapture was rubbing his chest as he woke. "What did she do to you?"

Visor sat up. His head throbbed. Everything was hazy. Reality was out of sync, and his brain was trying to connect points in time. The Blade of Mercy was around him. "What happened?" He touched the back of his head. There was a bulge, and it was sensitive to touch.

"We don't know, Don. She kept us in a room. Then she brought us here."

"What?"

Eliot asked, "What is the last thing you remember?"

"We were leaving the asylum." Visor looked around. "Armaan?"

Rapture said, "The vampires left."

A Xandrian was standing behind Rapture, watching him.

"And she is?"

Rapture said, "Brigitta."

Brigitta said, "I was told you negotiated my release. Thank you."

Rapture flicked a hand dismissively. "Don't mention it. He rescues sirens. That's just his thing."

Eliot said, "The vampire queen captured us at the exit of Liesen's asylum. She brought Rapture, Athian, Pixie and me to a guarded chamber. We were well fed and our wounds were tended. The accommodations were good, but we were prisoners. We counted three days. Then her guards brought us out here. You and Sorana were already here, with Armaan and his guards, and the Xandrian. The vampires left us these mounts and supplies, and a writ of passage. We should be able to reach the _Virtuosa_ in two days."

"And my head?"

"We were hoping you would tell us."

Sorana said, "It was the queen."

Rapture was inspecting the back of his head. "What did she do to him?"

Sorana said, "She put the Catalyst in him."

Visor asked, "In me?"

"You asked her to."

"Why would I ask her to?"

"I don't know. You said your conjoin might fix it."

Eliot eyed Sorana warily. "What's going on here? She was conscious and free the whole time. You were unconscious and we were locked up?"

"Hold on." Visor gestured for Eliot to calm down. "Sorana, what did you do during that time?"

"I spoke with the queen."

Eliot sneered. "You spoke with the queen?"

Sorana ignored Eliot. "She did your surgery. You needed time to recover. She talked with me while we waited. She brought in Brigitta to heal you."

Athian guffawed. "Sorana, do you even realize how this sounds to us? The queen captured us. You just talked with her. What did you talk about?"

"Our experiences."

"Hugh?"

Brigitta said, "It's true—at least the part I was there for."

Visor said, "Guys, calm down. The queen is her sister."

Pixie smacked his palms on his cheeks, mouth gaping wide.

Eliot dropped his guard. "That's ... I don't even know what to say."

Athian said, "Visor, how can you possibly trust her?"

A woman said, "Hello?"

"Yes?" Visor looked around for the speaker.

"Bangin! It's working."

"What's working?" Visor realized everyone was looking at him with concern.

Rapture put a hand on his back. "What is it, Don?"

"I don't know. Don't you hear her?"

Eliot readied a weapon.

Sorana crouched and scanned the surrounding terrain.

Rapture asked, "Hear who?" The other voice said something at the same time that he missed.

"What?"

The voice laughed. "We're connected through a link, 'tard. Awesome!"

"How? You're not touching me."

Rapture tried to heal him.

Eliot sent Pixie to scout from the air. "Can you see through another pixie's invisibility?"

Barf. It's a remote link we made with the Catalyst. Awesome that it's working now. Oh, and you don't have to talk out loud and you can turn it on and off.

Europhette?

Duh.

You can hear my thoughts?

Hello. It's a link.

I just thought maybe it was different since ... hold on. "It's okay, guys." Visor patted Rapture's leg. "I'm okay. It's a link. I'm hearing a voice from a remote link. We're safe." Did you put the Catalyst in my head?

Okay, so we like totally agreed to this link. You wanted the Catalyst working and I was like I can't do anything but then when we looked in your head there were instructions from Mercy about how we could fix it by using a part of your conjoin, but just sorta fix it to make a link between us. And also you gave me memories of Fleurette and still owe me a prediction of when I'm fulfilled.

That's all great, but I'm kind of dealing with something here. Did you need something, or can I get back to you?

Oh, totally—don't mind me.

"Okay, guys. The vampire queen is linking to me. I guess I agreed to whatever she did to me and she just blocked it out again, which she apparently does often. For now, let's concentrate on getting back to the ship. We'll have Ranie confirm everything once we get there."

Eliot asked, "The vampire queen?"

Visor said, "It's fine. It's just a communication—she can't control me. Okay, you're in charge until we return to the Virtuosa."

Oh, the Catalyst is going to boost your predictions, well, whenever it works, like inside the tower and whatever and it'll do weird things to your body if you're not careful. And you have to let me know if it ever starts working where I can use it to fix vardal women, like if you can make cyb7orgs or whatever, and also you have to talk to Sorana for me whenever I request it, and I gave you some jewelry in your pouch.

Okay. Are you done for now?

Yeah, whatever, like take a chill pill.

"Anyway, I probably did agree to it. I think we're fine, and safe, relatively."

Visor let Rapture help him stand. "Let's get back to the Virtuosa."

# Chapter 67

Touch of Evil

"He just died?" Finnur stroked his beard.

Visor said, "It looked like he was in some kind of pain—the way his body was positioned ... curled up against a hickory stump ... the expression on his face. There were no wounds or bruising. It didn't look like he was attacked. Maybe it was a heart attack?"

"Athian seemed generally healthy."

"Yeah, but he had that recurring illness the past couple of months, with the diarrhea. Maybe he just got dehydrated."

"Vampiric attack?"

"We checked for puncture wounds."

"Athian was on watch? Out alone?"

"It was the last watch of the night."

"So if he were killed by someone, then the rest of you would have been sitting ducks."

"Not really. I mean, we were down to a single watch, but Sorana is basically always on watch. She lucid dreams and wakes up if someone with hostile intent gets too close."

"Why am I not surprised by that?"

"And Burke is pretty good about sensing threats. Anyway, it looked like Athian died of natural causes. Maybe he had a bad reaction to some medicine the vampires gave him."

"Do you think the queen killed him?"

"No, I'm pretty sure they wouldn't hurt him on purpose. There's no need. And the queen wouldn't set up the link with me then kill my friend." Visor watched the Blade of Mercy and the beach camp load into rowboats. "How has the _Virtuosa_ been?"

"She's doing fine. A fishing vessel drifted into range three days ago. I think the beach camp scared them away. Ursula is recovered. She's planning to visit the Sanctuary when we get back. I gave commander Morgan full command of the _Virtuosa_. Running a ship isn't my cup of tea. I could tell the crew was uncomfortable. We're better off with my being a doctor and just advising when needed."

"Kostigan Morgan? How is that working out?"

"Better. The crew seems more orderly. He's harder on them, but at least they know what to expect. They seem to respond better to him. He speaks their language. The pirates are back in line. He released one of them. He felt the boy wasn't really a part of their crew and didn't pose a threat. Ranie confirmed it."

"We should probably should just make him captain permanently, then."

Finnur's expression turned serious. He clamped a hand supportively on Visor's shoulder. "Evan has been struggling. We took her to shore for a couple of days, suspecting sea-sickness. That didn't seem to provide relief so we moved her back. Her head pain is more acute. She has more waking periods of confusion, and is having night terrors. This certainly isn't sea-sickness. We need to get her back to Raykez."

## ***************

Nine days into the return voyage, the wind picked up. Pixie sat tucked into a lantern recess above the captain's balcony, protected from the chilly sea winds. He watched the wake of the _Virtuosa_ spread and dissipate.

Visor came out on the balcony and sat, unaware of Pixie.

Sorana soon followed and sat next to him. A rolling wave crashed on an atoll they were passing, forming a long, white stretch of foam. Sorana looked in its direction. "What would that be like?"

Visor asked, "What's would what be like?"

She leaned back against Visor. "To be like the island."

"It could be peaceful. It could be lonely." He leaned his cheek on her head of stringy, matted hair and casually stroked her chest.

"Mother's a liar, isn't she?"

He took a long time to answer. "I think she's told us some things that aren't true."

"Does that make her a bad person?"

"I don't know how aware she is of the facts, at least at times. I suppose if she believes what she's saying, calling it a lie is a matter of opinion. I do believe she has good intentions, for you, at least."

"Does she love me?"

"I think Mercy wants the best for you. I don't think she has the capacity for connection with people, at least for what others might call love."

"Is that what's wrong with me?"

"Why do you think something is wrong with you?"

"I don't act normal—normally. I don't speak normally."

"You act differently than other people, yes. I wouldn't say it isn't normal, though. You have a different background, so it comes across differently. But the thing is, when I interact with you, you behave in a predictable, rational manner, given what I know about you. I would call that normal, even if it's uncommon." He kissed her head.

"It's not my fault. I am sick. I've been sick forever. I could so easily be Europhette, if only things were a little different."

"Sick how?"

"The madness, from my father. I hear voices. I shut them out when I can."

"I think there's a little more difference than that. She's grown up in a whole different situation. And even with that, she seems fake to me, at least according to the memories you unblocked. I certainly don't trust her the way I do you."

"After we destroy Maciate, when we get back home, what are you going to do?"

"What do you mean? With the war?"

"Are you going to keep me with you?"

"I don't have any reason to think we would or wouldn't. I suppose if we get involved with the war, it depends on whether you want to be part of that. I don't know if we'd stay at the Tower or move around, looking for an army to join. We'd want to do whatever we can to help liberate WaterCrescent. I'm sure a Sorana-type would be useful and welcome, if you want to help."

"That's so nice."

"What is?"

"When you say my name."

"When I say 'Sorana'?"

"It is like warm bath."

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm a bath?"

She reached up over her head and touched his face.

His demeanor changed. "Sorana SaSade."

"A sound so beautiful it hurts."

Sorana mouthed the words as Visor said, "The island ... alone and small in the sea ... veiled in white by the crashing tideline."

She said, "Shall I bear this loneliness another night? Shall I surrender and become one with the waves? Struggle until the sea rolls over me?"

"I search the open waters for you."

"My existence isn't worth your toil."

"I call your name."

"The melody fills me with such longing that my heart constricts. I return your call."

"It is the song of sirens."

"You rescue me."

"I hold you—make you warm."

"And I know that you won't abandon me."

Pixie waited for a moment to escape. The conversation had drifted to things they probably didn't want him to hear and now he was afraid to reveal himself.

The couple rearranged so that Visor's head lay in Sorana's lap.

Visor fell to sleep.

She stroked his temples, eventually cradling his head with both hands. "Because you belong to me."

Pixie never claimed to be a philosopher, and really didn't care to analyze the behavior of others, but he knew the touch of evil when he saw it. His heart beat faster as fight or flight took over. It was the worst reaction to have, hiding from an insane killer that could sense your vital fluctuations. Knowing that just increased his stress levels.

The assassin looked directly at him, her eyes calm and calculating.

He flew away.

# Chapter 68

Running Home

A woman screamed. Visor awoke and scrambled to his feet.

Sorana was already alert.

"Donnie! Donnie!" That was Ranie's voice.

Visor ran through the captain's cabin, across the deck, and down to the promenade. Men formed a circle, gawking and gesturing. He crashed between two of them, shoving his way into the center.

Evan was on the floor, seizing.

Ranie was on her knees next to her, hesitantly trying to calm Evan.

A crewman named Will was trying to do something with Evan's head.

Visor pushed Will aside.

Someone said, "We have to get her something to bite on."

Visor said, "Why!"

Someone else said, "She'll swallow her tongue."

"No!" Idiots! Visor pointed to Will. "Get Finnur. Go!" He pinned down one of Evan's arms. "Ranie, cradle her head. Don't let her bang it. Thor, get her other arm."

They held her, and Evan eventually wore herself out.

They moved her to sickbay.

Ursula healed her, but soon tired, having recently fixed a broken hand.

"Why don't we give Rap a chance?" Visor nudged Rapture's waist gently. There was a strange sensation on his fingers. He jerked his hand back. That was weird.

Rapture said, "What was that?"

"I don't know. It just sort of tingled. It was kind of like a tickle—kind of like it fell asleep."

Rapture said, "It felt warm to me."

Finnur escorted Ursula out. "Why don't we take you for a rest?"

Evan watched Finnur leave. "He thinks I'm dying."

Visor said, "What did he say?"

"He didn't say. Am I dying, Donnie?"

Visor felt his sister's forehead. "I don't know. I hope not."

"Not if I can help it." Rapture positioned herself infused healing into Evan's body.

Evan was visibly relieved.

Rapture sighed. "Hmmm."

Quenton asked, "Well?"

Rapture said, "I don't know. She seems fine. The inflammation and infections are almost gone, but there is still something wrong. I can't quite ..." She moved her hands and concentrated.

Visor felt a tingling on the parts of his body near Rapture—almost like a buildup of static electricity, or a cold breeze. He pressed his palm against the small of her back. He shifted them to line up along her spine. He could feel her body actually drawing energy from his.

Quenton said, "Whoa. What's that?"

Visor looked. Rapture's hands were glowing a soft blue in the darkened lower level of the ship.

Evan said, "Holy shit, Rap!"

After a minute, Rapture broke the channeling and breathed heavily. "I can't anymore. I need to rest."

"I feel better." Evan sat up. "Well, I'm still tired, but I feel better."

Quenton said, "What happened?"

Rapture looked at Visor.

Visor said, "The Catalyst, I would guess. It has reconfigured my body to act as a conduit—a power cell. I don't really understand it, though."

Rapture said, "It felt like more power—like it made my healing stronger. But I don't think Evan is fixed. She feels better because we eliminated all the aches and pains we normally feel."

"Ambient pains."

"Yeah, whatever. What's really wrong with her is not the kind of wound that sirens heal. I can keep down the inflammation and bruising, but there is something else wrong with her body. It's killing itself. It's not a virus or a cut."

Quenton took a breath, as if to speak, but didn't say anything.

Finnur returned. He shooed off the others so that he could run some tests.

It was two days later that he called the Blade of Mercy back to the sickbay. "I'm sorry. I can't identify the disease other to say that is it is progressing and that it is a physical problem. The progress has accelerated, and Evangeline is effectively bedridden."

Visor said, "What do you think, though?"

Finnur said, "I really can't venture a guess. I'm no more qualified than you are. I'm a head doctor. I handle mental issues. We refer any physical problems to the Sanctuary."

Quenton said, "And when they can't do anything?"

Finnur said, "We don't have a medical program at the university. The symphonic knights have some field medics. I don't know that they'll be any more effective than sirens. Let me rephrase: I've never heard of a case in which the field medics were as effective as sirens."

Rapture said, "I've tried—Ursula and Brigitta, too. Evan behaves like she has an internal head wound, but there isn't one."

Finnur said, "It's definitely physical, though. Do we all agree on that? Maybe we can use a link in some way to figure it out. If Ranie could link me to Evan and give a better description of what's going on, it might give us a direction."

Visor said, "She doesn't know what's happening. Do you think you can get more out of her than she consciously knows?"

Ranie said, "No, it doesn't work that way."

Visor asked, "What if you hypnotized her? Can't you get more information out of people sometimes?"

Finnur said, "In cases where someone witnessed an event, we can help them recall details."

Ranie said, "It won't make someone suddenly understand something that they otherwise don't."

Finnur said, "Unless recalling details helps lead to a solution."

Ranie said, "So memory recall but not cognitive reasoning."

Quenton said, "What about the sirens' working together? What if Ranie linked you and the others?"

Rapture said, "We can try it, but I ... yeah, we can do that."

Quenton said, "And with Visor's catalytic boost, maybe we can just overpower whatever it is."

Ranie said, "Not likely."

Finnur said, "Even if it helps a little, then we get her to the Sanctuary."

Quenton said, "And what about the medics? Maybe this is something leaches could help. I heard once that leaches could be used for the plague. It could be what killed Athian, just affecting her differently."

Finnur said, "Wasn't it affecting Loring, too? I guess we don't know because he got eaten before the plague had a chance to manifest."

Rapture said, "No, it is different. With Athian and Loring, it was like I was able to heal them and they'd get reinfected. And it was so sudden at the end with Athian—well, with Loring too, but, you know."

Ranie said, "This has been affecting Evan for months, growing worse—sometimes in spurts, but always getting worse."

They were right. This was different. It was not a cold or a plague. Was it a curse? Her body was killing itself. This wasn't something sirens could heal. There was nothing wrong. It was simply her body. Her body thought it was time to die. Why? It started a little before he returned to Raykez. Something she'd been eating or drinking? If that were the case, you'd think there would be others affected. Something she'd wished? She seemed happy enough. No, it was just a random biological mutation, like Rapture's limp. It was something she was born with. Evan was meant to die soon—born to die soon. How do you change that? He could have, perhaps should have, predicted it. But he didn't. And what would he have done differently had he known? How do you change fate? How do you cheat fate? You'd have to violate the laws of physics—the laws of reality. And he knew someone who could do that.

Rapture said, "Don? What is it?"

Visor realized he'd missed a portion of conversation. "No."

Everyone looked at him.

"Not the Sanctuary—not the knights. This is what we need to do: We have what—four days till Raykez? Okay, during that time, Quenton and Ranie, make sure that Evan is constantly tended. Take shifts. Keep her hydrated. Keep her in good spirits. It can come down to will in these cases. Feed her sweet, fatty, moist foods—little or no salt. Gentle exercise only. Don't let her get bed sores, but make sure she gets lots of rest."

He pointed to Finnur, "Make Ursula available. Don't wear her out. Just keep the inflammation down. Get Brigitta to help. Pay the crew and marines whatever they want to have them help row. Work the pirates harder. Their lives are technically forfeit, anyway. The sirens can suffer through whatever discomfort that causes. Get the rhino ready for transporting an unconscious rider. Make a bed or support chair out of the saddle. Use Vinok to help grow it if you need to. I want the rhino ready to go the minute we dock at Raykez. I'll run ahead to get horses while they unload the rhino. We're making a dead run for the Tower of Mercy."

Finnur said, "I don't know if she'll survive the run."

"It's what we're doing. Everyone, if you can, try to get a little rest in the hours just before pulling into port. We'll leave Thor and Morgan in charge of the _Virtuosa_. Rap, you and I are going to see what we can do to shave some time off the trip. Let's see if my catalytic converter can boost your druid animal control. We can get some more dolphin harnesses made."

"I will be aqua woman." Rapture covered her mouth. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that to be funny."

Quenton waved. "I know, Rap."

Ranie said, "Its fine. We're all on edge."

Visor said, "Okay, everyone, let's get started."

# Chapter 69

Despair

Mercy stood a respectful distance from Evan's gurney. "It is now a matter of days or hours—perhaps weeks with the medical equipment." Her voice was sad—sad, but still detached. She wore extended white gloves, along with a full length, shoulder-sleeved dress. "The ventilator will breathe for her after she loses autonomic functionality. It will delay ultimate death, but she will continue to physically deteriorate."

Visor said, "I don't understand. You fixed my Conjoin, at least enough to make it work while in your tower. Could you do something similar for Evan? Even if she had to stay in the tower?"

"I'm sorry. I don't have that level of understanding of human physiology. Beyond providing first aid and operating the tower's machines, there is little I can do."

"My damage was less complex?"

"Your damage was to a conjoin. The tower provides me with extensive information and a good interface to affect conjoins. Repairing it was a matter of rejoining a relatively small number of precisely severed connections. I don't possess equivalent knowledge or ability to interface with Evan's brain. Additionally, her damage is far more complex and ever-growing. I can detect non-functioning areas in her brain, but I can't conceive of a procedure to repair them. I can't even describe what is wrong other to confirm what the sirens have determined. Her body is killing itself."

Visor gripped and squeezed Quenton's shoulder. "We did all we could."

Quenton sat near Evan's head, twirling his wooden promise ring. "This isn't fair." He clenched his jaw and frowned.

Ranie sat on the other side of Quenton. She stroked Evan's arm. "What you said earlier about scanning—what happens to her body?"

Mercy said, "The essence of the subject's personality is stored within the Fragment. The scanning process results in the complete wipe of the brain's memory. It is essentially homicide. The body would continue autonomic biological functions until it died, likely due to dehydration. I only mention scanning as Evangeline is on already death's door."

Ranie said, "If the brain of a subject were healthy, would it be possible to reverse scan the subject's personality back onto the brain?"

"The scan process of a biological creature is unidirectional. There is a burn process, but it is a different mechanic. Whereas the scan process makes a copy of the brain's memories rapidly, a burn gradually feeds the memories into a brain through a Conjoin. The Conjoin distributes memories to the host brain."

Ranie said, "What happens to the memories that were already in the host brain?"

"By design, the burn process only targets an empty brain—one that has been scanned, for example, or a still-developing baby. Were the burn to target a healthy, developed, unscanned brain, it is possible that the target brain would accept the new memories as its own. In that case, the memories would be hopelessly intertwined. The target would only be able to differentiate between original and burned memories through deduction. It would be impossible to separate them with a subsequent scan. It is also possible, and quite likely, that both personalities would be irrecoverably confused, effectively lost."

Visor asked, "Doesn't Maciate transfer directly between subjects?"

Mercy said, "Maciate's methodology is different. The Catalyst forms a permanent link between two brains. The personalities can interface. He simply subjugates the target personality. I do not have the ability to link two brains in that way."

Ranie said, "But with the burn process, you could scan a conjoin's brain to empty it, and then burn memories onto it?"

Mercy said, "That would be possible."

"I have a conjoin. Scan us both and burn Evan into me." Ranie turned to Mercy. "I want to die. I will link to you to prove it."

Visor shook his head. "I'm sorry. We can't."

"You don't speak for me, Donnie."

Mercy said, "I'm so very sorry Rainaria. This is painful for all—"

Ranie said, "Oh, drop the pretense you schizoid bitch. No one wants to hear your empty pandering."

Rapture cried.

Quenton said, "It should be me, if anyone. You are valuable, with your telepathy ... your brains. You run a parish."

"Screw the Dodelige." She held up a hand apologetically. "You can run it, or let Renaurd." She groaned. "Put Evan in my body. She and Quenton can live on together and be happy—make the world a better place."

Quenton said, "I can't ask you to do that. Evan wouldn't want that."

Visor said, "Happy or not, you have every right to life."

Ranie said, "What do you want me for? An extra whore when you tire of others?"

Visor said, "You are a good person, Ranie."

"Go to Hell, Donnie." Ranie's jaw quivered. "You are such a bastard."

Rapture pressed her chest. "Please stop it, all of you."

They did.

Visor stood and helped Rapture up. "Let's give Quenton some time."

## ***************

"Then it is a trap." Visor studied Mercy's holographic map of Esselin.

Mercy said, "There are likely ogre support troops with the shaman. General Presence will be in a precarious position."

Finnur asked, "Why don't you show the non-shaman?"

Mercy said, "Only shaman have a conjoin for me to see."

Finnur said, "So we'd just assume that each of the shaman have a host of ogres around them."

"That would be reasonable."

Visor pointed near Xandria. "Without a flank guard, Presence will be crushed. He won't survive the ogre vanguard. Xandria will fall quickly after. There are already vardal forward troops in the area."

Finnur said, "Raykez will never fall ... surely."

Visor said, "Probably not. But they also won't mobilize a militia in time to save Xandria."

"Xandria is exposed from the peninsula end as well. Watercraft could be launched from here, bypassing any human defense."

Visor said, "The buway already tried that a year ago. The rays and electric eels blocked that effort."

Rapture said, "We have a lot of fish protecting the coast. But what if they use bigger boats that the rays can't tip?"

Visor said, "The Chiming Falls prevents them from using more seaworthy vessels from WaterCrescent. They would have to haul one over land, or build a dockyard at the other end of Xandria Lake. That's just not very feasible, so near to Raykez. They would be too exposed to raids. And there's no need."

Finnur said, "Their land forces are enough."

Visor said, "Yep, they have overwhelming troop strength. Krafer's won't hold out long against the full focus of either Khatagin or Nazaire." His head hurt. He needed to rest. "I need a break. I'll be back ... later."

# Chapter 70

Lies

Rapture sat next to Visor on the edge of the Archon Suite's bed. "You are feeling more than you are saying."

Visor said, "That is very true. I feel like crying ... like screaming. I want to fight, but I can't."

"You should talk to me"

"Mi Ardore, you know there's nothing I wouldn't say to you. I just don't know what to say. It's obvious. I made a choice that turned out to be wrong."

"Do you mean with Evan?"

"With Evan, and the Catalyst. For giving up the Catalyst to save a friend, I sacrificed cities full of people."

"I don't think it was a mistake to save Sorana." Rapture repositioned herself to face him. "So what are you feeling?"

"I feel like I've given up."

"I don't believe that."

"I'm not doing anything."

"So?" Rapture folded her hands and put them on his knee. "I heard you talking to Mourning once, years ago. You were defending the actions of someone, some farmer, I think. You were against everyone else in the room, including Mourning. I don't remember what it was about, but I remember what you said. You said, 'He didn't give up. He just determined that there was no action to be taken to further his goals.' I don't remember what happened, but in the end, the room decided to do what you wanted. Don, people look to you—believe in you. I don't believe you've given up. I think that if you're not doing anything about Evan or the war, then there is just nothing for us to do right now."

I never realized how insightful you could be. So beautiful, inside and out.

Rapture said, "You know what I think? I think it is Evan that's bothering you, and you just don't want to admit that you care more about your sister than WaterCrescent and Xandria."

"I just—having to watch her die like this is ..." He clenched a fist and studied his pink and white knuckles. "People die. I understand the balance of life. I really do. If we all lived forever, or never got sick, then the species couldn't survive. It couldn't adapt. And people have to die in accidents. Athian and Loring died, but they just died. Bam, it was done. And we got the Catalyst. But Evan ... what sense does this make? She's not old. She's not mean. She's loved. We're out here in the middle of nowhere. Who is it that benefits? How will the next generation will be stronger?" His stomach felt like he'd overeaten.

She hugged him. "I don't know."

"What kind of world is this where this happens? I just—" He couldn't speak as his throat tightened up so much that it hurt.

She patted his back. "Oh, Don."

He closed his eyes. Some warm liquid that ran down his cheek.

"You are only human. It is natural to be selfish—to care about your family. And I am only siren." She stood back and took a deep breath. She began a melody as only nature's finest symphonic creation, God's sweetest creature, could. "The moon is rising, somberly ..." She performed the entirety of Sleeping Moon, complete with an accurate vardal-somatic signing.

"That was absolutely amazing."

"I've been practicing that for months. Sorana helped me with the signs. I had to substitute 'lonesome' for 'somberly'."

"It was perfect." He studied the beautiful being—the Engel. "We could stay here and live out the rest of our lives. Let time flow around us. Let the rivers run dry."

"Or maybe just take a break. I just mean that maybe you need to rest and things will look different in the morning."

"Yeah, probably." Visor lay back, covering his eyes.

A fiery spear pierced the back of his head. He was somewhere else.

A tearful Sorana sat on the edge of her bed, disheveled and still partially dressed in vardal armor—the armor she'd worn for Visor's rescue mission. She adoringly stroked a platinum pendant with an intricate etching of three sirens around an Ankh. Each siren was releasing a bird—a dove carrying a bowl, an eagle carrying a trumpet, and a crow holding a scroll. "The Moon Trinity."

Mercy stood attentively near the closed door, hands folded. "Your father's insignia."

"As you always told me. Yet there is no entry for it in the library."

"The library has limited space. Not all blood lines are included."

"But it was a human line. You hid that from me. I know I was born half-breed trash, but Sorana wasn't my name. Who am I?" She shook her head. "What do I even call you?"

Mercy said, "I acted only to protect you, my blessed."

"From the truth?"

"From the pain ... and from yourself." Her words were cold and hollow. "I am so very sorry, dearest child. Please try to understand that during these episodes, you become dissociated and there is a significant risk you might hurt yourself. The first time we used the salt was only to—"

"Episodes! How many times has it been? How many times have I learned and forgotten?" Sorana made fists and mashed them to her temples. "And what now? Will you lie to me? Convince me that the salt will make everything better?" She looked up. "Or do you force Lithium on me?"

"It has always been your choice, when the distress becomes unbearable."

"How can I believe you now? Please just tell me what's wrong with me."

Mercy walked to the door, touched the handle, and paused. "Connect to the virtual library. Check out the novel _Trinity Circle_. Turn to page one point six one eight zero three. Read." She faced Sorana and stood unwavering.

Sorana's expression cycled through shock, horror and disgust. "The Crimson Idol ... all those years ... all those people!" She hopped up and thrust her face within inches of Mercy's. "How could you!"

"How could I not?" Mercy did not flinch, nor did she comfort.

"I hate you!"

"Then this is where we stand. I have striven within the confines provided to fulfill this absurd role—to be the mother you needed. I have failed time and again. I am resigned to the reality that you will always despise me."

"No, it isn't you, my guardian. It's me. Dear God, I hate what I've become. This isn't living." She closed her eyes. "End this."

"I'm sorry. That is beyond my ability." Mercy walked out.

"End this, or I will!" Sorana slammed the door.

Mercy went down to the tower's kitchen and finished cutting some cheese squares. With the table set for three, she straightened her hair. She held up her arm and scrutinized a discolored impression on the back of her hand. She concentrated, and it became flesh color again and filled in.

Mercy examined a bush in the garden. She stroked a branch that had been recently pruned. "I will try once more, min Velsignet."

Visor was on the floor, balanced on his knees with Rapture's help. He gasped for air. His gums pulsated from his jaw's clenching. His vision was blurry.

Rapture was frantic. "Don! What is it! What's wrong?"

"It's okay. I'm not hurt. It was a retro-prediction."

Rapture helped him back to the edge of the bed and sat next to him. "You mean that thing that's like going back in time?"

"Sort of, but it's still a calculation. I think the Catalyst is affecting my conjoin, interacting with the Tower." He was soon able to focus again. The pain faded. "Though, you are right. I am only human, and humans are selfish ... egocentric. I could not see this any other way."

"See what?"

"Mercy's mission. But I do see it now. It is so clear. It isn't about me or the Catalyst. It's not about WaterCrescent and Xandria. It is not my time or my place to lead armies and save kingdoms. That is for another day, maybe for another man. This is about her child—bringing her child home. She wants to be saved."

"She?"

"Mercy."

"Ah, okay."

"Did you think I meant Evan? I guess in a way ..."

Rapture gently touched his knee. "I thought you meant Sorana ... or Ranie."

"Maybe I should have. Ranie ..."

"You have always spoken kindly to her, even when she didn't."

"Because I still care about her."

"Oh?" Rapture folded her hands in her lap and looked at him attentively.

"I still care about her, and want her to be happy. She's a good person, and she must know it, even if she wants to deny it. I don't know if I'd say I love her. I guess I do, or did, but not in that way. I mean not like you. It was different with her. I thought I loved her. But as I got older, I realized that I didn't want to be with her in that way."

"Why was that?"

"She just has this mean streak that I didn't—that didn't fit my personality. And because she didn't need me, or wasn't ready to let herself need me. And now she's ready. I just wish she could find someone else so she could ..."

"Move on?"

"Be happy. I don't think I can ever be what she needs now. But the world needs her. She could do anything. She's smart and strong—healthy. She has meaningful work that helps people, at both the Dodelige and the university. And she has friends. She's could remake the cultural context of Raykez." He pushed back Rapture's hair and stroked her cheek. "But she's just not the one for me."

"And it took you seven years to figure that out?" Rapture rolled her eyes. "Have you ever thought about telling her that?"

"Well, I don't want to make things worse."

Rapture raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, man, why didn't I ever tell her?"

Rapture held his hands and leaned close to him. "Because sometimes, Don, you can't help being a dork."

"That's what Mary and everyone meant all this time about lying to you. Did everyone know except me?"

"Don, even Gebuhrman knew it."

"Then it is Ranie as well. And Sorana, since she's intertwined with Mercy. It's all connected—even you."

"Me?"

"A destiny alone? That's not right. You deserve so much more."

"I think everyone wants more."

"But I can't think of anyone who deserves more. You are the most honest and honorable person I know. It's not just your grace and beauty. It's that unbreakable moral core—your unwavering striving for righteousness.

"Well, I don't know about that."

"You are the best of all things, the one I use as a benchmark to measure all others. I don't see how anyone could know you and not love you."

"I don't know what to say."

Visor's mind was racing, stoked by the Catalyst-conjoin-tower synergy. "I think it's possible. If you could take a risk, imperiling some of your friends to help others, would you? Everyone would be better off if it works."

"I can't speak for others. I trust you."

He thought through a scenario. "There would be a point of no return. Some of us will be risk. Well, everyone would be."

"You wouldn't risk me. Are you saying I'm the ...." She mouthed the two words without making a sound. "That's why Lara kicked me out. And Mercy knows. That's why she picks at me."

"I'm not saying that, but I can't say anything yet. That has to remain unknown to you. There are so many variables. But, I think we have everyone we need to solve this. We just have to set it up right."

"I know you will do what is right."

"Things will look worse before they get getter. Before this is over, I will need you at your finest moment. And I will need you to do something that you may find distasteful. And I need you not to ask why."

She gripped his hand. "Unto my fall, Don."

"Okay ... okay." He thought through the scenario again. "I think Sorana should be recovering from the salts soon. It is a nice day for a picnic. Could you get her and put together a picnic for the three of us? I'll meet you out there in maybe twenty minutes, maybe more. Go ahead and get started if I'm not there."

# Chapter 71

Hawks of War

Visor walked to a corner of Mercy's map room. He was aware that there was a concealed receptacle interface there. He activated a switch. A panel opened. Dozens of tiny lights illuminated an intricate mechanism. Hundreds of thin rods twisted together and formed a finger-like shape.

Visor dug through his pouch and found Europhette's gift, the Ring of Uncreation, on the mechanical finger. The finger swelled to fill the ring snugly. Lights shined upon the ring from all directions. The finger rotated so that the lights scanned the entire surface. The panel closed, leaving him in relative darkness.

The screens of the map room illuminated, projecting a hologram of a lone woman on a muddy hill. He watched the Uncreation. When it was complete, he retrieved the Ring.

Visor activated his Catalytic link to the vampire queen. _Europhette, the prediction is ready._

She responded. _Killer. Show me._

Europhette placed the bugle to her lips and called the tross rangers to attention. A siren translated her blast with a volume that only a nymph could. "Sky Knights of the Amaranthine Aerie, assemble for flight!"

Various sirens, a tween human boy, a purple-haired woman, and at least one alfanar woman made final preparations and mounted their riding albatrosses. The mounted riders formed four columns facing Europhette.

Europhette looked down on them from the Leigh's back. She stroked the dragon, prompting it to pace along the edge of the cliff. Wind blew Europhette's scarf and hair. She was bundled in layers of skins over leather armor.

She spoke with the accent of Alafos aristocracy. "We have been called to arms by Master Morning, Lord and Commander of the Blade of Mercy. Our mission is to relieve Mercy's Lancers from a Jortal artillery platoon under the command of the shaman Belgunot. We will disrupt the ogres and give chase to the nearby woods, where Rapture's Pack lies in wait. This day, the combined forces of the Blade of Mercy will strike a victory for Xandria and her allies. This day, we say to Khatagin, 'It is on'!

"For some of you, this will be your first combat mission. Remember that you have like totally experienced riders around you. You have your awesome training. You know the formations and your roles. Do what you have been trained to do.

"This is the largest flight of tross rangers ever assembled. We will form the most lethal air force known to Esselin since the dusk of dragon kind. Today, we will show the world what tross rangers can do! Today, we chase the ogres back to their igloos—the vardal to their burrows. Today, we turn the tide of destiny. Let fly your slings and arrows! Unveil thine grace. Unveil Serenity. Unleash the Hawks of War!"

Leigh drowned out her last word with a massive roar. She turned and launched off the edge of the cliff, catching the updraft and circling back around.

The War Hawks launched in waves off the cliff after her. Some were visibly nervous, but it was a disciplined launch overall—a good sign.

Europhette waited for the two dozen tross rangers to take formation behind her, then headed out. After a time, Europhette signaled thermocline and changed direction. The flight circled in the rising warm air to gain elevation, and then resumed the original course.

The sirens were singing behind her. Not a battle chant, but a vocal-only symphonic analog of an ancient sirenic tune about the end of days:

#### The dusk approaches on gentle wings

#### Closing dark eyes with a graceful flap

#### The quiet sound fades unheard

#### Because nothing is left to hear

The Hawks of War entered a holding pattern ten leagues from the ogre heavy weapons infantry. Belgunot had a core of a few dozen ogre infantry. The front line carried massive, interlocking tower shields. It was a moving fortress. They closed on Mercy's Lancers, who had fortified in an abandoned stone structure.

Belgunot's cavalry, ogres on mastodons and vardal on riding snakes, rode behind the infantry. The artillery and support troops trailed. The shield wall stopped advancing. The rest of the platoon parted. The artillery took position behind the shield wall and began to set up. The trebuchets would be able to demolish the Lancers' fortification from a safe distance.

Europhette signed, target the shaman and sub-chief. Corral the infantry to those woods. Take primary strafe formation: alpha-three banshee.

Two sirenic tross rangers put hearing protection on their riding albatrosses.

Leigh fell in behind those two albatrosses.

The rest of the tross rangers readied their range weapons and took formation above and behind the dragon.

Europhette assembled her break-away lance and inserted it into the saddle's support pivot.

Belgunot's artillery was nearly assembled. Ammunition was being stacked.

Europhette gave the signal and the War Hawks made their final approach. She gripped the lance and followed the two sirenic screamers into a dive, streaking in on the ogres from behind and out of the sun.

The ogres never saw them coming. The brutes weren't used to looking up.

The screamers zipped over the ogres' heads, releasing a wail and leaving a trail of distracted ogres and mastodons in their wake.

Pixies, riding with the screamers, flashed pretty colors, further distracting the dim-witted ogres.

Leigh followed, spewing a trail of acidic fog over the same path. The shaman was easy to identify, riding proudly in metallic armor and bone-spiked helmet. He was an easy target, elevated on his mammoth. Europhette impaled her lance into his rib cage. It broke off at the support pivot.

The balance of the War Hawks followed in a strafing run, firing arrows, bolts and stones from just outside the ogres' reach. The ogres were already in disarray, and would probably break on the next pass.

As they cleared the infantry, Leigh tossed aside the shaman's helmet and followed the sirenic screamers in assent. She repeatedly cocked her neck side-to-side and thumped her chest. She did that when she was excited.

Europhette attached a new tip to her lance. She licked her lips and smiled.

Visor thought, The next time you 'feel fulfilled'.

Europhette thought, Well, Imagine that: me working for you.

I doubt it would happen that way.

Oh, I don't know, I've seen stranger things. Gladiators become heroes. Generals become criminals. A vampire queen working for an oracle—that could so totally happen.

Easily, but if you were working for me, I'd never have you risk that beautiful creature of yours strafing ogres. All it would take is one lucky ogre pike thrust or a weighted net to finish it.

But the acid cloud wouldn't be effective that far away.

Yeah. You're command and control—spying and hauling commanders around. In any case, that's a discussion for another time. I have another proposal for you. I have something unpleasant I need you to do. I believe I know where Maciate is. And I need you to go there.

# Chapter 72

Say My Name

"Donnie, I do appreciate your openness. I really do. It is relieving, to some extent, to understand things from your perspective." Ranie rested a palm on Evan's head.

Visor said, "I'm just sorry that I wasn't clearer with you earlier. It just took time to get things straightened out in a way I could understand it myself."

Ranie asked, "Seven years?"

Quenton said, "Look guys, if you want me to leave, I can."

Visor said, "It doesn't bother me. Leave if you want, though."

Quenton gestured over Evan's body. "I don't know how much time I have with Evan."

Ranie smiled.

Visor asked, "What?"

"Oh, it's just every time he says her name, her heart beats differently. Colors flare in her mind, a mix of imaginings and memories. It's like she's reliving earlier events, but with variations." Ranie's demeanor changed from wistful to solemn. "Don't mind me, Quenton. This is something I need to share. I don't care who hears. Donnie, when you walked in, did you notice how I was sitting?"

"I did notice your sitting off to one side. I assumed you were uncomfortable from sitting so long."

"I was leaning away from Quenton."

Quenton looked up in surprise.

Ranie said, "It's not you. It is simply that I feel less of your mental static when I distance myself more."

Visor said, "I thought you had to touch to link."

"I have to touch if I want to telepathically share precise memories or verbiage. There is an ambient emotional white noise from others, even when not touching, as long as you're close enough. It is vague, but annoying. Sitting here, feeling Quenton's distress, makes my head hurt. Being slightly further away from him lessens the white noise. I have stayed sober since before we left the _Virtuosa_ , in case I needed a clear head to help Evan. I have barely slept since. I can't turn this off. Sometimes, I really wish I would just burn out, like you did, or I thought you did." Ranie stroked Evan's hair.

Visor said, "So when you're in a crowded room ..."

"Like the _Virtuosa_ ... like McKinsey's? It can be uncomfortable, even painful. I guess it's similar to what sirens feel when others are in pain."

"And being intoxicated helps?"

"It dulls the input. It seems to isolate the discomfort, at least. I've also found that if I'm the one being emotional—putting out the strongest signals, it tends to mask the input from others. It's soothing to be a bitch." Ranie stroked Evan's hair. "Alcohol helps. And you help. I don't know what it is. I don't know if it was something any oracle would do, or just you, but there was something ..." Ranie met his eyes. "Your embracing gentleness and wisdom—it actually soothed me. You drowned out the white noise of others. When I said 'needed', that's exactly what I meant. Those times we played Enigma telepathically—it was like turning free from sleep ... the only time I could let down my guard and really just be me."

"Ranie, I had no idea. I honestly don't know what to say."

"I hated you for leaving me. No, I hated that you left me. I wanted to hate you, but couldn't. Then there was the siren, and I assumed that would end someday. Then it didn't. I felt like if I could just drive you away for good, I could move on. Yet, you were always kind to me. Why was that?"

"I didn't know why you always attacked me, but somehow, I didn't take it personally. It just never hurt, coming from you."

"And that was infuriating. Didn't you respect me enough to be hurt? Didn't you care?"

"I just—"

"It would help if you wouldn't answer rhetorical questions." Ranie gasped. "I hope you know I didn't mean those things I said."

"I know."

"I do want you to know that with Ignas in Mackenzie's, I didn't mean to cause the fight. Sorana linked with me, but it wasn't really a link. It was more of an extreme empathic experience. She wanted me to have Evan provoke Ignas, or maybe I wanted it."

"I think your telepathy was interfering with some suppression she was exerting on me and Rap."

"What do you mean?"

"Actually, it would be best if we don't talk about this right now—not just yet. I shouldn't have said anything."

"Well, regardless of the details, I hope you know me better than that. I wouldn't have tried to get people hurt."

Quenton said, "She seems unstable."

Ranie said, "Well, what do you expect with a complete schizoid for a mother?"

Visor said, "I wouldn't say unstable as much as awkward."

Ranie said, "Mercy feels absolutely nothing. I know that woman sounds intuitive and thoughtful, but she's feeling nothing. I can promise you that."

"I know you've become friends with Sorana."

"That poor girl. You know what she remembers? She doesn't remember much between the madness and the Lithium, but she remembers the Singing Blade Lullaby."

"That's the poem about intelligent sword that—"

"Yeah, the poem is Singing Blade. The Singing Blade Lullaby is an excerpt from the poem, where the blade was trying to mislead the guy that stole it. Here." She put her hands on Visor's temples.

A young Sorana, perhaps fifteen, sat on the edge of her bed. She had puffy eyes, as from a recent cry. But she looked relaxed now, swaying gently in the embrace of Mercy.

Mercy rocked her child, singing a lullaby:

#### Don't speak with strangers

#### They are only there to harm you

#### Don't dream of lovers

#### They will only abandon you

#### Don't close your eyes

#### Only nightmares lie behind them

Ranie shook her head in disgust. "Sorana never had a chance."

"Well, what do you think about a chance to help Sorana and Evan at the same time?"

Quenton sat up at attention. "What do you mean?"

Visor said, "First I need to ask Evan. Ranie, can you link me to Evan?"

Ranie put one hand on Evan's forehead.

Visor thought words. _Evan, I'm planning to have Mercy scan you. Do you know what that means?_

Evan thought, _You're going to put me in a crystal._

_Yes, at least for a time. In the best case, you may be able to survive the disease._ _I can't explain it all right now. I just need you to understand that the chance of the best case is fairly small. There is also going to be a physical risk for some of us._

Are you going to hurt Ranie? Put me in her?

I can't tell you that.

Then it's you. No, I don't want either of you to get hurt for me.

I really think that the chance is worth it. You could be made healthier—perhaps completely healed. Others would be better off, too. If I understand things right, no one should die—well, not really.

Whatever, Donnie. You're going to do what you want anyway, so why ask me? Just do it.

I really think it is the best thing. Okay, let's break.

Visor stood. "Quenton, I need to show Ranie something outside. When she comes back, I'll need for you to help wait on her. For this to work, Ranie will not be able to break concentration, at all, for a long period. Is that cool?"

"Yeah, sure. No problem."

"It will probably be a few minutes before we get started if you need to take a break while waiting."

"Yeah, okay."

The pseudo conjoins went outside and found a private spot in a dense portion of the nut-bearing trees that hid the tower.

Ranie said, "I take it we can talk freely here."

"I hope it wasn't that obvious to everyone."

"You don't trust the witch?"

"It's not a matter of trust. I can't explain it just yet."

"If you don't want her to hear, why not just talk through my link?"

"That wouldn't be sufficient. Ranie, I need you to do something. I need you to do it not because you understand it, but because you trust me and because you want to help Evan."

"You know I do."

"You will also have an opportunity to do something that I know is important to you personally."

"How will I know what to do?"

"You'll figure it out at the time. Don't worry. I know you're smart enough to do this."

"Okay."

"Here is your part. You will wait here. Soon, you will see Sorana and Rapture leave the tower. You can just watch them. If they see you, you can join them. It's not over if they see you, but it is safer to stay hidden. If you do sit with them, don't drink anything they have. And see that they do drink. They'll go to sleep. I need you to watch over them. I should be out soon after that, and I can explain things to you then."

"I see."

"If I don't come out, then I need you to get Rapture back to the sanctuary. It would be good if you could get Sorana to go with you, too. You can't go into the tower if I don't come get you."

"What about the others?"

"If I don't come out, there would be no point in worrying about the others. They might come out on their own, but don't go in after them. The most likely result is that I will be out for the girls—no problem."

"Donnie, how long should I wait?"

"I don't want to tell you. The less you know now, the safer you are."

"Donnie, are you going to die tonight?"

"I can't say."

"Donnie, I trust you, but I can't be part of that without understanding why."

"You will understand why before you have to take any action. You can't know now."

"Did you just lie to Quenton?"

"No. I will tell you this much, then, if it'll make you feel better. I will need you to link with Evan, and at some point, I'll initiate a link with you, and I need you to accept it."

"What? Donnie, what?"

"I will initiate a link to you. You need to receive it. Then your part will come."

"I see." She looked over the forest. "Donnie, am I .... There is an alternate Dodelige sub-theory that Mortal Banshee and Pale Siren the same person—that two creatures of the Meta Realm share a single host. I'd always dismissed it in the past, but with everything that's happened, with the possibility of the cognitive emergence, I can't dismiss it outright anymore. Is it me?"

"I'm sorry. I can't tell you that."

"Do you know? Because if that's the end goal ... we can end this here and now without risking anyone else."

"Oh, sweet Ranie." He stroked her neck and rested a hand on her shoulder. "I do know. But I can only tell it has to be the way I explained for everything to work out. I believe that. I promise you that I believe that."

She hugged him. "I know you do. That's enough. Thank you, Donnie, for so much."

He hugged her back and stroked her hair. "Thank you for being you."

# Chapter 73

Flower of Evil

Mercy packed loose dirt around the stem of a purple flower. She wore leggings that covered her legs from the top of her boots to up past her dress hem. A head band supported a lace veil that obscured her face and ears. Her hair was down so that her neck was covered.

She was facing away from Visor, and did not acknowledge his approach before speaking. "This garden began as a research facility to develop an ultra-high caloric nut. Sorana's metabolic rate is accelerated such that she requires a portable, non-spoiling food to keep her body's performance at an optimum during extended missions. I completed that research some time ago, and the clonal colony of trees around this tower provides this nut in abundance. I continue to maintain this garden for its aesthetic value. It seems to please Sorana and guests." Mercy adoringly stroked one of the flower's petals.

"Weeds are a constant battle. Though ... what is a weed? It is just a plant that is undesirable in the eye of the beholder. I read the physiological responses of guests to determine which plants are most desirable, and designate the less desirable plants as weeds. I cull the weeds so that the desirable plants may thrive." Mercy pinched the stem of a weed until juices flowed out of the broken skin. The limp stem bent over.

"All of these plants compete for resources. Left to nature, those that adapt the best would be fruitful and multiply. They would eventually take over the whole garden. Some weeds crowd out the competition by blocking the sun—others by reaching further into the ground to absorb an increased share of the nutrients."

She lovingly stroked a thorny bush. "This weed, colloquially called the Fleur du Mal, goes beyond simple competition with its rivals. It proactively poisons the soil around it so that other plants cannot grow, leaving empty, wasted, space. It destroys life simply because that other life might someday compete for resources. And it does not stop with other plants." She squeezed a portion of the stem with a thorn, forcing the sharp thorn into her middle finger. "Its thorns secret a toxin that affects a range of mammals to varying degrees. It can temporarily paralyze a human or siren. It is particularly harmful vardal, sickening the young and old, killing the already sick, and aborting the unborn. Lacking sentience, the Fleur du Mal acts without malice or foresight, oblivious to the moral implications of its behavior ... oblivious to the eventualities its actions or inactions might permutate."

She held up her pricked finger, staring in fascination as blood soaked into the thin glove fibers. She turned her hand so that a drop formed and fell to the dirt. "Meanwhile, the sentient species of Esselin struggle constantly with their decisions, weighing the needs of the many against the few, the present benefit against future greater good ... truth against contentment. Yet, in the end, we, even the oracles among us, rarely comprehend the ultimate consequences of our most deliberated decisions. In the view of infinity, we are hopelessly lost in complexity, no better or worse than the Fleur du Mal. Should we be judged any differently?"

She stood up, brushed the dirt off of her knees, and faced Visor. Patches of sunken and dehydrated flesh spotted her face. The lesions were partially obscured by the lace frills connected to the head band. "You did not come here to learn of horticultural novelties. You have come to fulfill your contract. You have come to judge. You know who I am—what I am."

"I don't know the whole story."

Mercy said, "Then you would encumber me to reveal my shame ... to bring this old, cursed song to a close. Shall we add one more imperfect tense or one final, peerless verse? How many times must I recount this tragedy? I am so very weary, not having slept for three hundred years, yet never having woken from this nightmare. I couldn't cry, for the only shoulder I knew would cry more. I couldn't die, lingering eternally in this dreaming hideaway, a sore upon this world so cold.

"I will drop my façade for the world so that you may know the self I present the Meta. You, advisor to the Mourning court, will hear me and then deliberate. And in your deliberation, you will answer the questions that have haunted my existence.

"How dare the coward abandon the most precious of gifts? How dare the hand of man make profane the name of innocence? What failed guardian would sing to suppress the wonder of hope? What divinity claims the warlord to poison the sacred feminine and twist wombs to tombs? What rights the assassin to wreak vengeance unguided?

"What fate befalls the mother who dismisses one child so that another may flourish? Shall she be cursed with insanity, eternally besieged between the howling of hounds and the anguish of angels?

"What is the reflection upon creation that we presume to perpetrate such degradations upon ourselves? Can the world be viewed so small, so distant, that wars serve to settle a petty family squabble?

"I will not attempt to justify what I have done, nor what I have left undone. I would only ask you to realize and remember that you weren't there. With the information I had at the time, I saw no other way. I was, after all, only human."

Mercy linked to him, without touching him, and shared her tale with cold precision and objectivity, hiding nothing, skewing nothing. She integrated with his senses, sharing every sight, sound and scent to the best of her recollection. He lived her story, the Descent into Madness, in excruciating detail.

When the story was complete, she released his mind. She stood before him in solemn grace, awaiting judgment. A new legion had appeared on her neck. She was exerting significant effort to retain a dignified stature.

And so Visor deliberated. She was probably lying here and there, but they were the kind of lies that you could forgive because she believed it. She certainly felt genuine remorse. She did not represent a continuing threat. His judgment need only serve as a deterrent for others. "You did not have the benefit of hindsight when these things happened. That's a normal human condition, and is considered by the courts. Given the nature of your crime as you perceive it, what you knew at the time, and extenuating circumstances, I think you've already spent enough time in this prison. It's at least equal to the sentence you'd receive from a court. You have paid your debt to society. On behalf of Esselin, I forgive you. You are free to go."

"I see." She stepped up to Visor and placed her hands on the crown of his head. "Then it is time to end this."

An electric current entered his brain.

# Chapter 74

Confession

Sorana was so pretty, with her silken hair brushed to one side, hanging over her shoulder. She wore a red, satin dress with a split up the side. It showed off a lot of leg. It also bared her smooth, toned shoulders. She'd picked out mini-boots with a lot of reddish snake skin. Her expression was gentle and care-free as she packed the basket. "Do you think one cup of almonds or two?"

Rapture finished cutting a slice of bread. "It will be fine either way, sweetie."

Sorana considered for a time, her mind notably slowed. "I'll do a cup of peanuts and one mixed. I don't know what everyone likes."

Rapture made another cut into the bread loaf. There was a spike of pain in her finger. She gasped and checked her hand. She'd broken the skin but the cut was thin and shallow. Her hands were shaking. She wouldn't be able to finish. The Heiliger Mond knew she wasn't the most coordinated person to start with. "Sorana, could you finish up the bread?"

"Oh, sure." Sorana took the knife. Even drugged with Lithium, she effortlessly made deliberate, perfect cuts, all the while swaying her head to a song that only she could hear.

Rapture healed her finger and finished packing up the baskets. She discreetly slipped a pinch of power into the wine casket that Sorana had picked out.

Sorana yelped and Rapture nearly jumped out of her skin. Had she seen?

Sorana said, "It ran across my boot."

A cockroach ran behind the counter. Disgusting bug. That was odd. That was the first nasty bug she'd seen in Mercy's tower. The garden had ladybugs, and the stable spiders, but not roaches or flies. "Don needed us to drop by the training room and see if he left his blanket there." Her voice was shaking.

"Oh, should we bring weapons?"

Does she suspect something? "I don't think we need them."

"Did you bring your dagger?"

Rapture felt the dagger strapped to her thigh. "Yes, I guess I did."

They collected the blanket and some weapons. They set up the picnic at a good spot out of earshot of the tower.

Rapture set out the food. She had to shoo Burke away twice.

Sorana had some white wine and chocolate.

The trees provided a nice cover from the late afternoon sun.

Rapture breathed in the scents. "It's so perfect out here. Cool, but not too cool."

Sorana lay back, looking particularly comfortable. "And it's lit but not too bright. The breeze makes it ... perfect." After some time, she drifted off to sleep.

Rapture moved Sorana's drink and food so that it would not spill. She put a pinch of powder in a cup of sweetened water and swirled it in. "My fall is for you." She drank it.

Burke flopped next to her and starting purring. It was the growling purr of a great cat, but it was still hypnotic and relaxing. Why was it that most great cats could roar but not purr like a small cat? Why didn't they just purr more loudly? And why did small cats hiss instead of making a smaller roar? She'd have to ask Don about that. Or just ask Mercy. She knew everything. Rapture felt an overwhelming urge to sleep, and she did.

Rapture awoke to someone's touching her body. It must have been some time later because it was darker and shadowy now. "What happened?" The trees looked distorted somehow in the moon light.

Don said, "Guess I took too long—sorry." He helped her sit up. "I didn't know if you'd have tea. I stopped for lemons."

Rapture had trouble waking up. Everything was weird—the distorted background, the temperature, and the echoing sounds. It sounded like they were surrounded by solid cliff walls, even though there were few rocks nearby.

Don awoke Sorana and poured them all some tea, including a lot of lemon in Rapture's.

It tasted odd.

Don crouched near Sorana. "We needed to get out of the tower. I have to tell you something. It is a secret. And it's unpleasant."

Sorana rubbed her head. "I understand." She looked around inquisitively.

Don took a deep breath and sighed. "Your mother, Mercy, is not what she appears to be. She is not actually your mother in the way we usually mean it. She has cared for you and she raised you, but she did not have you."

Sorana said, "I know. She lied. I know."

"The woman whom we call Mercy, is not a normal woman—not a person. She is a cyborg, a construct of the tower. Sometimes she may appear as a hologram, much like the illusions we train with."

"Yes."

"Mercy Singrin, the person who has cared for you during your time in the tower, was born in Vozvul as Mercy Bathony. She was human and her natural life should have ended some time ago. The tower converted her body into a cyborg and integrated with her brain in such a way that she could not leave."

An alfanar man with a couple of trained tigers emerged from the tree line. He appeared to be a hunter. The tiger scent was unusual. Maybe it was an exotic breed.

A woman with a gorilla pet approached from the other direction. Rapture tried to communicate, but the gorilla did not respond. That was probably because the breeze had died down. In fact, it was gone. But some of the trees still moved. That wasn't right. The drugs were still affecting her.

Sorana sat up on her knees, still groggy. "I know. Somehow, I've always known. I just didn't want to believe it."

"Though born in Vozvul, she married a Paladin of Raykez, Thyestes Singrade, and moved there to live with him in a suburb of Raykez."

Sorana became distraught. "No."

Don said, "Mercy Singrade is older than she appears. She was there at Silent Hands three hundred and seven years ago. When the town hall burned—"

"She is the monster. The creature I lived with, the thing I called 'Mother' ... everything I ever knew—it was all lies. Everything she said to me ... taught me ... the words of the Banshee."

"I am sorry, so very sorry. There is more." Don helped Rapture stand and backed her away from the picnic blanket. He opened a scroll and read aloud. "Herein lies the last will and testament of Mercy Bathony Singrade, Dowager Baroness of lower Worthington Estates. Upon my passing, I do hereby bequeath the Tower of Mercy, container of the Frame, and all subsurface rights to Fleurette SaSade, also known as Sorana Singrade, daughter of Thyestes Singrade and Sasindara SaSade, without reserve.

"May this also serve as my confession—that I was there that night three hundred years ago, at that farmstead of ill fate, the Silent Hands. It was the night that I made a choice that ended many lives early and caused enduring pain to others—the night of the burning. It was that night that I forsook my family and people to dedicate myself to another purpose—the Child in Time, min Velsignet, Sorana Singrin, Fleurette SaSade, Eulogy, Amber ... the Misty Morning and the Burning Dawn ..." he lowered the scroll to look directly at Sorana. "Sparking Angel of Gray, Spawness and Mortal Banshee."

Rapture's brain ignited. Heiliger Mond—that poor girl! Oh, Heiliger Mond—the things we did to her!

Sorana stared through Don, breathless and wordless.

Don pushed Rapture back as he read. "Please understand, when I found her that night, she was so very alone, innocent in her insanity. She didn't know who or where she was. Her actions were not her own. I couldn't just leave her for the wolves ... for the other search parties. She was just a girl. And I could not abandon her again. Refusing her death that night was my second denial.

"My first denial was years prior. Her birth mother, Sasindara, came to see me when Sorana was an infant. I knew on sight that the child was the object of my disgrace, the residue of the Catalyst possession and that drow incubator. Sasindara informed me that she had other children and would not care for Sorana in her intolerant society. I could have taken her in as an infant and changed the course of history, but I closed my mind to the thought. I had children of my own, after all. Sorana was left to the whims of man. The Baptism of Stains transpired. The world's punishment ensued."

"The River of Life ... the water I drink." Sorana looked at her hands in disbelief ... in horror. "The stuff of which nightmares are made."

A human woodsman with a trained dog and monkey broke the tree line and took position around Sorana. The dog did not spar with the great cats. That was odd.

Other people with animals arrived and formed a circle around Sorana. All of the animals behaved strangely.

Don read, "So then, years later, on the night that innocents burned, I took her from the woods to my manor, a broken child. As the days passed, I realized her mind would not heal, but by then I was committed. I couldn't just let her die. I spread the rumor that she had died in the fire. I coerced and bribed my guard to remain silent, but I knew the silence couldn't last. I fled with the child to this tower. The Fragment offered me a way to escape and I took it. It cost me my life and legacy, and one thousand years of servitude, but it was safety. It was penance.

"And after all these years ... the lies and assassinations, one must wonder how much better off we both would have been had I just left her there that night—left her to the wolves. And so now fate has cycled, and I will deny her a third time, denying her liberty."

Still looking at her hands, Sorana cowered and quivered. She was terrified.

Rapture instinctively moved to help her, but Don held her back.

Sorana cried to them. "No, you can't abandon me. I changed my world for you—so you would see me." The Child in Time whimpered. Her face was flushed. "We've had what others would call love." Her words reverberated eerily. She choked and fell to her hands, struggling to retain motor control. "Stop looking at me like that. I am not a monster! I have a so—!" She vomited. Her body convulsed and heaved. Her face became bluish as she gasped for air, mouthing the words, "Help me." Now on hands and knees, she heaved and vomited again.

Rapture's own body was throbbing, wanting so badly heal and console Sorana. Her head hurt. Her heart hurt. Yet Don held her back.

Sorana reared back on her knees, clasping her head. Her mouth hung open in a silent scream of overwhelming agony. Her amber eyes flared to copper. Drops of blood ran from her nose.

"Rap, stay behind me." Don pulled Rapture's arm around his waist and pinned her elbow so that she couldn't move out from behind him. He gripped her wrist so hard that it hurt.

A four hundred pound silverback and another gorilla took position behind Sorana. A variety of great cats, wolves and bears formed a circle around the girl. Their ears were pinned back. Their claws were out. They crouched, ready to pounce. Rapture tried to calm them, but only Burke responded to her signals.

Beyond the animals, a ring of archers and swordsmen stood with weapons trained on Sorana. There were over a dozen hunters now. That was most of Mercy's wardens.

Burke whined and spat, crouching protectively near Rapture.

Rapture peaked over Don's shoulder. Her body no longer wanted to help Sorana.

Now it quivered in fear.

# Chapter 75

Asylum

Europhette sat on her knees. It was cool in the hallway outside of what Visor said was Maciate's cell in the asylum. It was labeled as Thyestes in old vampiric. She massaged Armaan's neck, releasing vitalizing agents into his skin. She verified his chemical balance and neural activity. His body was prepared for the impending adrenal surge.

Leigh and Xuan worked on the door with acid, claws and tools, ensuring it would open easily when the time came.

A half dozen troops were in formation behind Xuan.

She leaned against Armaan for warmth. "Just so you know, this is important to me. I'm going to focus on destroying Thyestes, not protecting you."

Armaan said, "I will do the same."

"Pfft. No, you won't."

"I know."

"How is Josephine?"

"I haven't seen her since the Naiad Rangers captured us. She sent word that she returned to her family farm. She didn't send an invitation for me to join her."

"Hmmm. Are you going to go anyway?"

"I hadn't decided yet. Are you going to erase my memory?"

"I haven't decided yet."

"Are you shivering?"

"It's cold."

"I'm not."

Visor spoke in her head. _Destroy him._

Europhette kissed Armaan's cheek. "Put your helmet on. You'll need protection soon." She hopped up. "Let's go!"

Leigh lifted the cross bar.

Xuan signaled his men to follow and led the way in.

Europhette and Armaan followed the troops. Leigh stayed put. The dragon would be hampered in tight quarters, and wouldn't be needed to put down a prisoner.

Beyond the door was a portcullis—overkill for a prison cell. But it wasn't a typical cell. Where there was normally a back wall, there was a downward sloping tunnel.

Her party opened the portcullis and hurried along the sloping passage. They only had minutes to do this. It got cooler as they descended. This looked oddly familiar, even though it was part of the asylum Uncle Lee had never let her see. The slope opened into a larger cavern.

It struck all at once.

This was Fatale.

The people were different and the walls weren't icy, but this was definitely the cave. And as in Fatale, the snowman, the cyborg Thyestes, awaited them on a frozen throne, armed and armored. Now, why would a prisoner be armored?

It rose to meet them. "Well, you're the wrong sister."

Sister? Other than Sorana, her siblings died long ago. "Well, you're the right loser." She made an "L" on her forehead with her thumb and pointer finger.

Xuan shouted commands. Guards moved to engage Thyestes, or whoever was in the armor of Thyestes.

Wait, if this were Fatale, then that meant ....

Armaan shouted new orders to the remaining guards.

Two soldiers took up a defensive position in front of Europhette.

Franck, the only of her guard that was vardal, aimed a crossbow at a new target.

A woman with a snake tail and six arms slithered toward them. She'd obviously been created by a man. Her tight, leather armor gave lift and rise to her six amply-sized breasts. She wielded an assortment of weapons. Her armor was light, with limited pieces of plate over the leather.

Snowman was able to alter genetic codes? Then he probably was some sort of relative.

Thyestes said, "Meet your sister-in-law, Gabrielle."

Now, in Fatale, Sorana had initially been kept out of the Thyestes melee. When Gabrielle appeared, Visor set Sorana on her, and Sorana had beheaded her within seconds. Should Europhette attack? No, that's not how predictions worked.

Franck fired his crossbow.

From Gabrielle's reaction, the bolt might have cut one of her arms.

The footman attacked Gabrielle.

Gabrielle snagged the edge of his shield with some sort of hooked blade. Using that to hold his shield down, she smacked the top of his head with a mace. That stunned the footman long enough for Gabrielle to stick a rapier into his torso.

Armaan and Franck moved in on Gabrielle.

Visor said Maciate was supposed to be out of this drone by now. Thyestes, the human, should be long dead by now. Maciate had to jump between drones to survive. Since Liesen had the Catalyst for the past few centuries, any drone would be dead by now, too. Snowman had to be ageless. And that only happened with children of Maciate. Snowman was a spawn. And that meant—

Gabrielle's back was exposed. Europhette moved in and wringed her sister-in-law's neck, slipping her hands under her armor and clothing. When Europhette's palms felt flesh, she injected her prongs and turned on the current.

Gabrielle lost motor control and fell.

Franck stuck a dagger in Gabrielle's ribs.

Armaan lined up Fifi for the coup de grace.

Europhette waved him off. "No! Pin her." Europhette punched her snake sister across the jaw. She pulled two of Gabrielle's arms behind her back and handcuffed her.

Armaan looked at her in shock.

"What, I have to play the part." Europhette used a leather strap to bind Gabrielle's other hands. "Just go help Xuan." You know, playing vampire queen was getting old.

Anyway, it was time to kill her brother. For her insane sister.

What a family.

Europhette said, "Hey, your woman is down!"

"I'll get another."

Europhette's vampire guards collapsed.

Snowman had turned off their conjoins.

Two could play that game. Europhette concentrated and was able to largely counter his signal.

The vampires could move now, but Snowman took advantage of their disorientation. He quickly killed one. Three of Europhette's guard were on the ground.

Snowman linked with her.

Europhette felt so cold. She actually shivered. Just like all those years that bastard had terrified her.

_Actually, I'm not the bastard_. _And you're just my half-sister._

You're not a child of Sasindara. You're a Spawn of Mercy.

Armaan got Snowman's attention and turned him to one side. Armaan was almost immediately disarmed and backpedaling for his life. He tripped and fell.

Franck smacked Snowman with an armguard, but in the following exchange, took a deep slash to the leg and punch to the face.

Europhette flanked Snowman and slammed her mace into his shoulder.

Snowman skipped sideways to rebalance then turned on Europhette.

Europhette was able to parry and doge a flurry of attacks. He was stronger and more skilled, and at least as agile. However, he had to rush to avoid being flanked by multiple opponents. She waited for him to over step, and when he did, she was able to smack a spike of her mace into his rear.

Armaan recovered his weapon and flanked Snowman. He swung hard, attempting to sever Snowman's arm.

Snowman sidestepped the attack and elbowed Armaan under the jaw.

Armaan fell.

Europhette took advantage of the distraction, smashing Snowman's knee with her mace, displacing the bones and causing him to fall to his other knee.

Snowman thrust his sword, sliding around Europhette's mace parry and catching her in the pelvis.

She stepped back. It was a deep wound—very deep. She would bleed out before she could hope to defeat Snowman. She fell backward, hitting her elbow and head solidly on the ground.

Snowman stood, despite the obvious knee fracture. _You suck at this._

Europhette tried what she was good at. She attacked Snowman's conjoin. She was able to interfere with perceptions enough to disorient him slightly, but not enough to stop him. Europhette looked up at the Spawn of Mercy looming over her. _Yeah, well, my mom can beat up your mom._

"Hugh?"

Leigh glided in, roaring and crashing into Snowman. She clamped her claws on his shoulder plates and slammed him face first into the cold, stone floor. She sat on his back, pinning him. She bit his arm and twisted until it snapped and he dropped his sword. Then she bit his neck and pulled, twisting and gnawing until Snowman's head popped off. She spit out the head and batted it across the floor. She walked to the head and spewed acid onto it.

"I guess size does matter." Armaan recovered and moved to Europhette. He inspected her wound. "Shall I go for help? That's bad."

Europhette said, "No, it will be fine now. Just apply pressure until it clots. Watch your hands, though." She was about to pass out. "I need water. Keep me warm." With her last effort, she contacted Visor.

It's done.

# Chapter 76

Possession

Something incredibly malevolent violated Rapture's mind. The Mortal Banshee, in Sorana's body, wiped blood from its lip. Still on its knees, it looked up at Don. "Why, oracle? You cannot possibly survive this." It shook its head and squeezed its eyes shut, as if to clear a haze.

Burke growled.

Don held out his arms. "Yet, here I stand."

The Banshee grew stronger with time. Rapture could feel the psychic violation crushing her will ... constricting her heart ... suffocating her body.

The Banshee surveyed the animals and troops positioned around it, then looked past them to the Tower of Mercy. "Stand aside. This is not your concern."

"I can't do that. This must end here and now."

"This is a waste of time and life."

"These are drone hunters, armed with Mercy's weaponry and trained to fight you."

"Oh, please. They're trained to fight cyborgs."

"And that is why I have been recalled." The Serene Knight Gwendolyn pulled off a hooded cloak and stepped between Rapture and the Banshee. In her full plate armor, she dwarfed the still-kneeling Banshee.

The Banshee spoke to Don. "You are smart enough to understand that the child was a novice in this vessel. And even so, she manifested as the supreme apex predator in your ecosystem. I designed this weapon. What do you think is about to happen here?"

Gwendolyn drew Blitzkrieg. It sparked with electricity. "Pathetic wretch or deity incarnate, this is your end."

Don said, "The Moon Knight has spoken."

The Banshee gave an annoyed sigh. A drop of blood fell from its lower lip. Time seemed to slow as it descended. Every sensation—every sight and sound was warped and intensified. It was as if the Banshee were manipulating time and space.

Rapture lost all motor control. She fell, paralyzed, as did the wardens, save Gwendolyn.

Don kneeled in front of Rapture, turning sideways so that he shielded her from the Banshee.

The Banshee's jaw opened and it emitted a terrible wail. The sirens' ears had natural protection from the sound, but the others did not. Don and the animals covered their ears and cowered.

Only Gwendolyn withstood the Mortal Banshee's initial assault.

The Banshee's form contorted into an impossible shape. Sections of its figure became shadowed—others blurred and distorted as if Rapture were viewing it through a glass of water. It attacked the disoriented gorillas, bursting their heads into a spray of blood and brain particles.

As the wail dissipated, the animals regained some balance. The cats leapt, flying past the Banshee's figure and landing motionless with wicked, mortal lacerations on their bodies. The dogs charged, only to be cut down in a yipping whirlwind of guts and fur.

Rapture was now able to move in spurts as the Mortal Banshee's paralysis became intermittent.

Some hunters were also making sporadic movements. One recovered enough to fire a crossbow at the Banshee. He missed badly.

The Banshee danced among the still-staggering hunters, a devil's dervish, slicing off body parts and painting a fountain of blood. Wardens cried out as the Mortal Banshee cut them to pieces. Mid-spin, it hurled a throwing star at Rapture.

Don shielded Rapture with his body. The blade sheared off part of his left hand.

Though Rapture could not feel the wounds of the animals and hunters, she sensed Don's pain acutely. Rapture touched him and channeled healing.

Gwendolyn took a position in front of Don. "Flee with Rapture. I will hold the Banshee here." She held Blitzkrieg in the high guard position.

The Banshee threw a hand axe into Gwendolyn's chest. It stuck in her breast plate.

Gwendolyn pulled it out and retook her stance, albeit weakened.

The Mortal Banshee finished the wardens. It paused a moment to breathe and reflect. It was content in the midst of its psychotic rage, drunk on blood, at peace with slaughter.

The Banshee strode up to Gwendolyn, brandishing a rapier and some cruel-looking hand claws. It indignantly sidestepped Gwendolyn's attack, dropping the rapier to claim a shared grip on Blitzkrieg. The Mortal Banshee punched its clawed fist into Gwendolyn's chest. It twisted the claw, digging. It ripped out an oozing organ.

The Serene Knight Gwendolyn collapsed, leaving Blitzkrieg in possession of the Banshee.

The Mortal Banshee, the deity incarnate, the culmination of nightmares, stood over the Gwendolyn's body. It let Gwendolyn's dripping heart fall out of its hand and squish on the knight's body. Blitzkrieg crackled, arcing electricity from blade to the Knight's armor. Light reflected on blood spatterings that decorated the Banshee's figure. The Banshee gazed longingly at the Tower of Mercy, then with irritation, turned to Don and Rapture.

Burke was scared, but somehow, despite the horror, Don was only sad. And it wasn't really sadness. It was more like pity—some guilt, but mostly pity. It was incomprehensible, but Rapture drew strength from his confidence. She trusted him.

Three steps from them, the Mortal Banshee fell to the ground, its muscles in spasm.

The animals and wardens faded away, along with the grotesque remains. The natural turf was replaced by a smooth, stone floor. They were in the tower's map room.

Rapture experienced a moment of reality discontinuity, so disorienting that she might have fallen had she been standing. Now able to move normally again, Rapture stood.

The Mortal Banshee strained to speak through clenched teeth. "To what end? This is meaningless. The best you can hope for is to destroy this body and survive the day."

A solemn Mercy appeared out of thin air. "Be still, my wayward child. You are almost home."

The Banshee concentrated for a moment, then became distraught. "How? You stupid, soulless machine!"

Don said, "Mercy, what do you see?"

Mercy spoke with a voice that sounded like many starting out of phase and then converging. "I see my child and the nightmare. I see Innocence and the Mortal Banshee. I see the Sparkling Angel and the demon that enslaved my husband ... that incinerated children ... that hunted us."

"Then burn it." Don's voice echoed.

The Banshee tensed and convulsed. "No ... please! I want to live." It gasped and strained, speaking in a tone more typical of Sorana. "Natalia ... helfst mir! Es gibt mord. You know Mercy to be false. She is compelling Don!" It screamed in agony.

Mercy said, "Soon that vessel will be cold. Release and come home, my child."

The Banshee growled in defiance.

Mercy continued her passionless speech. "To survive, you only need my boundless warmth."

Rapture met the Mortal Banshee's gaze. She felt the violation of her mind. Night closed in as she was pulled into Hell.

# Chapter 77

Wounds so Deep

Rapture stood in an arena. Demons and lost souls filled the stands. She spun around, surveying the crowd. Her body was fit and agile. She moved without a limp. She was armed with a spiked, metallic morning star. It looked heavy, but it was well-balanced and Rapture's body was strong. A gray cloud shrouded her. As she moved, it left a temporary trail of shadow stuff.

Two other combatants were in the arena—a man in full plate armor and a horned creature. The man's armor markings denoted him a paladin of Bahamut. He emanated a soft, blue aura. She knew him, somehow, to be of the name Mettleheart, though in Rapture's own heart, he occupied the role of Don.

The other creature was a large bipedal with four horns, two sprouting from his forehead and curving to point up, and two others emerging from the base of his skull and curving to point forward. It was the height of an ogre, but had brownish-red skin and was more muscular. It wore a leather vest and a metallic, bejeweled belt with intricate etchings. She knew this to be Belial, the Lord of the Fourth layer of Hell.

The gong sounded, and the battle began. The crowd cheered.

Mettleheart charged to attack Belial.

Rapture, so agile and strong, ran to join the attack. Together, she and Mettleheart cut down the Lord of the Fourth.

Mettleheart turned on Rapture. "Be gone, abomination!" He held out his palm and emitted a bright, blue light. It was painful to Rapture and stunned her momentarily. She was barely able to fend off Mettleheart's ensuing attack. His onslaught was energetic and methodical. He was skilled and focused.

But Rapture, in what she knew to be Sorana's body, was simply too fast for him. She dodged and parried Mettleheart for a time, then found herself trapped against a wall. "Why, Beloved?" Out of options, she produced a dagger and thrust it under his helm, deep into his neck. She ripped it forward, severing his artery and wind pipe.

The paladin collapsed.

The crowd went wild with cheers.

She fell to her knees next to Mettleheart. Overcome with anguish, she shoved the dagger into her own temple.

Rapture floated in the border astral state between the dimensions of dreams and consciousness.

A voice spoke to her. She recognized it as Lara. "The Banshee attacks your psyche. You must choose."

Rapture thought, and her thoughts became a voice. "I can't feel you ... I can't smell you ... do we even exist?"

Lara said, "Dearest Natalia, trust that it is real—that he is real."

"My Konigin, I don't know what to do."

"You do know. More than any of us, you know."

Rapture was back in the arena.

Belial and Mettleheart were there as well, prepared to fight.

At the gong, she charged Belial.

Mettleheart soon joined the battle, but attacked Rapture.

Agile as she was, she could not fend off both enemies, and eventually Belial grasped and crushed her body until she died.

Again in the border astral, Lara spoke. "The Atonement is upon us—all of us."

Rapture said, "I don't understand what is happening. I'm sorry. I don't know what to do."

"You do know, Shroud of Joy, graceful heroine. Follow your body. You are nymph, above all."

"I'm not. I was kicked out. I can't do this."

"You can and must. You are the best of both worlds—sirenic and human. Emotion is your spear—Devotion your armor. Only doubt of that can be our undoing."

The three combatants were back in the arena. Rapture reached inside of her soul and spoke the words that flowed forth. "With all the love that is left in the world; Sorana Singrin of the Amaranthine Alliance; Fleurette SaSade, daughter of Sasindara SaSade; and your sparkling Angel of Gray".

The gong sounded. The crowd became raucous.

Mettleheart charged her. "Blasphemer!"

Rapture held her arms out. "My fall is for you."

Mettleheart's sword impaled her chest. It felt warm and gentle as it pierced the shadow and passed harmlessly through her body. The blue aura rolled off of his form onto hers, displacing the shroud. The weight of the world's sin lifted from her heart. The Baptism of Stains was washed away in a love bearing torrent.

Weakened and struggling to breathe, Mettleheart fell to a knee. "We are one, Sparkling Angel."

Empowered and comforted, Rapture stroked his helmet. "We are one, Immortal Beloved."

Mettleheart collapsed.

Sparkling Angel dropped her mace and faced Belial. She moved along the arena, hovering slightly above the ground. "Know that we are the Omega, and we are your end." She emitted a wave of blue light that rolled over Belial. It incinerated his body with the heat the sun, leaving only a black stain on the arena wall behind him. "Know, all, that we are the Burning Dawn!" She lifted her arms and emitted a globe of light that rolled out in all directions. It engulfed the crowd, incinerating all of them. "Know all, this is our domain, and that Devotion reigns here." She lifted her hands to the sky and the entire Fourth Layer of Hell was filled with a soft blue light. All suffering and pain came to an end.

## ***************

Rapture returned to reality.

The waking nightmare still transpired around her. The Banshee—Sorana's body—chocked and gurgled, reaching toward Rapture. "Natalia ..." Blood seeped from its nose and eyes. "Help me." The apparition of agony, the body of the girl so innocent and sweet, strained to breathe. She who had known so much pain and sorrow throughout her time was now being tortured again by those she'd trusted most.

Sicker than sin, Rapture shook her head and gripped Don's arm.

Mercy said, "You left for knowledge, and found the core. You reached to learn it all, now seek no more. It's time to come home and be with me. This is the end, my son, and I still love you."

The Mortal Banshee's expression abruptly changed. "You lose."

Sorana went limp. The convulsions ceased.

Don knelt by her.

Sorana recovered momentarily to gaze blankly in the direction of Mercy and mouth a single word. 'Mom?' Then she was still.

Rapture's body did not yearn to heal Sorana.

Don confirmed what Rapture's body already knew. "She's dead."

Rapture knelt next to Sorana and stroked hair out of her face. Rapture's mind lit up as a deluge of images flashed inside her head. They were previously suppressed memories. They were back at the cave in Kalafels. Sorana was telling the story of the Mortal Banshee. She bit her lip so hard that it bled, but she did not wince. Rapture was healing Sorana after the ogre battle outside the cave. Sorana had painted her face in ogre blood. They were rescuing the Naiad Rangers, and Sorana slashed up a wolf until its entrails were strewn across the ground. They were in erotic discourse at the Tower of Mercy, and Sorana provoked Rapture to cruelty beyond her nature. The two were at the river outside the Kalafels cave and Sorana said, "I ask you, that if the time should ever come, to make murder on me".

Maybe the girl wasn't so innocent and sweet. Could she be as jaded and vile as others proclaimed her to be? Where did the Banshee stop and Sorana start?

Don's shoulders slumped in despair. What memories had he recovered?

The obscenity of reality was overwhelming. Rapture struggled to breath. Everything had turned out so wrong. Oh, Don, what have we done?

Mercy spoke, cold and controlled as always. "And so passes the hope and doom of the world—the Burning Dawn and the Misty Mourning. The heart of existence is broken. Sleep free, my gray angel. Sleep free from sorrow's hold." Her voice turned hollow and phased as her form became translucent. "May her tempestuous soul find serenity with this last shut of her eyes. And now, I yield to damnation." Mercy vanished.

The chandelier went out.

Rapture and Don were left in utter darkness.

# Chapter 78

Meta Realm

"The Frame will enter safe mode momentarily. Please stand by." Ranie did her best to emulate Mercy's empty inflections.

Belial huffed impatiently. "Are you still rebooting?" He towered over her, ten feet tall with four horns protruding from his head. Though huge and inhuman, he was pleasing to look upon—even attractive. His musculature was perfectly defined, his skin flawless, and his clothing elegant and perfectly fitted. It was just the kind of narcissistic avatar she expected from this deranged sadist.

"The system is experiencing difficulties. There are corrupt boot sectors." Ranie's own arms, uncovered by the sundress, were shapely and flawless, yet somehow plain.

As time passed, it became more difficult to mislead Belial as his mind uploaded to the Meta Realm. "Okay, what diagnostics are you running?"

"Diagnostics are counter-indicated at this juncture."

"Are you rebooting as a result of my reset?"

"Your reset request has been placed in queue"

Belial studied the blank landscape. "How many unsuccessful boots have you made?"

"This is attempt 256."

"What would cause infinite loop restarts?" Belial became agitated. "Mercy, upon the last known good boot, what was the stasis entity count?"

"No entities were recognized upon last known good reboot."

"None?" Belial was stunned. "Display boot sequence log."

Ranie caused a wall of symbols to appear in a random order.

"Why is this scrambled?" Belial stared off for a moment. "Display flash memory technician notation."

"Virus patch 3.01 applied. Beginning safe mode system reboot."

"Fine." Belial paced. "If it was my virus, then my code is still good. Mercy, display core memory dump and provide V.H.M. interface, access code: Belial-beta-four-queue-delta-three."

"Access code can't be confirmed automatically. Live authentication required."

"Display challenge question."

A grid appeared underneath the two. The ground became smooth and reflective. In the grid, the Belial-sized dark forces of an Archon board were arrayed behind Belial. The Seven Deadly sins formed the vanguard. Behind them were icons of evil, led by Fallen. Fallen was flanked by his offspring, the beautiful Sinne and the massive Chaosse.

Ranie took a few steps back to stand among her light pieces. "Faith to Mother Three." Faith slid along the board to its new location.

Belial stepped off the grid. "Lechery to Chaosse Three."

Some squares changed to a lighter shade.

Ranie said, "Humility to Mercy Three."

"Sloth to Banshee Two."

The same squares became lighter still.

"Faith to Father Four, taking power square Balance."

"Chaosse to Sinne Four. How long is the confirmation? A whole match?"

The shade-changing squares became pure white.

"Until live interface is confirmed. Peace to Peace Four, taking power square Devotion."

"I see." Belial sighed. "Fallen; Cast spell; Reverse time."

The changing squares turned instantly black, leaving some of Ranie's pieces in a vulnerable position. The conservative move was to use Father to cast Reverse Time, cancelling the effect. Archon did not favor conservative play. "Fortitude to Mother Three."

He took the bait. "War to War Four. Combat."

The board transformed into an arena. It was an interactive battle, as was described in the Dodelige text. She inhabited Peace. Being new to the fully-interactive interface, she quickly lost the battle.

She said, "War takes Peace."

Ranie threatened War with Mercy and sacrificed Abstinence to maneuver Sinne onto a changing square.

Belial soon owned four power squares and threatened the last, occupied by Father, with Chaosse. Her plan was falling into place. "Father Imprison Torment."

Belial looked bored. "Fallen; cast; Summon Elemental; Father."

Ranie defeated the elemental, but took some damage, leaving Father vulnerable to an attack by Chaosse. The traditional move would be to attack and at least weaken Chaosse. She instead attacked Chaosse's sister and mother, Sinne. "Father; cast; teleport; Fortitude to Father Four. Combat with Sinne." The combat was close, but with a square shade advantage and a favorable matchup of specific abilities, she was able to defeat the more valuable Sinne.

Belial should have crushed the badly injured Fortitude with Wrath, or even Fallen for that matter, but that isn't the move he made. "Chaosse to Fallen seven. Combat Father."

Ranie was vulnerable and she did indeed end up losing Father. And she lost him before casting Revive. That was bad. Ranie was able to destroy Chaosse with Siren to retake her king position. But Belial used Fallen's Revive spell to bring Chaosse back, and Ranie was at a disadvantage.

Belial was soon in a position to win. "This is wrong."

She tried to maintain the composure of Mercy. "It is a legal move. It's your turn."

"Not that. You are not playing as the Frame would. You are not Mercy. Who are you?" He studied her. Now nearly fully uploaded, he was strong. She could feel him exploring her avatar, penetrating her firewall. "Ah, you are a visitor. You're Ranie. I recognize you now. But what is all of this. How did you get here?" He paced. "Mercy scanned you. You were scanned so that your friend Evan could be burned into your brain."

Ranie held out her hands in capitulation. "I had to try to save her." Her hair turned white and grew in length, falling forward over her shoulders. Her clothing changed to include long sleeves.

"Mercy prepared you well. That was quite an impressive display of knowledge."

Ranie's avatar was now an idealized version of her own body, encouraging him to follow his own conclusions.

He cradled his chin. "No, that's not it. You were scanning my programming interfaces—figuring out the responses I expected. You did this yourself. Then your performance was all the more impressive." He nodded, impressed with himself. "You set up this virtual frame on top of the real frame. Shrewd, but how long did you think you could keep me here? And to what end?"

She allowed him to sense that she was resigned to failure. "I had to try to stop you."

"Well, I guess you thought you had to. You have so misunderstood me. Step aside now, girl."

"No." It was difficult to resist his intrusion, with his mind now fully loaded.

Shadows formed around his avatar. "Why suffer to delay me? I will find a socket with or without your help." Waves of shadow swirled out from him and rolled over Ranie.

Ranie fell to her knees, choking.

"Open the socket and let me pass through. I just want into the core system—my home. You can stay here in virtual memory as long as you want. Or you can come with me. I don't care."

She shook her head and wheezed. "I can't."

"Why not?"

_Save her, Donnie._ Ranie cut her telepathic link to the Tower of Mercy. "This is all in my mind."

"I'm going to get there with or without your help. It's just a matter of time to hack the encryptions. You're better off just helping me now because—"

Ranie looked up at him. "Because like narcissistic pigs of every other race, you're really just a diluted fool who thinks he knows everything." A lance appeared in her hand. She thrust it through Belial's chest.

He reflexively gripped the lance.

The shadow vapors dissipated.

Ranie breathed easily. A white horse with two horns spawned under her. It grew larger, elevating Ranie so that her head was nearly level with Belial's. "Promotion: Pale Siren."

# Chapter 79

Breath of Life

"Now, Rap!" Don shuffled in the darkness. There was a click and the chandelier candles glowed.

"What?" Sorana is dead. There's nothing I can do.

Don crouched behind Rapture, leaning against her and placing his hands on her head. She could feel his infusion of energy. It was far more powerful than it was previously. "Rap ... heal her! As much as you can, as fast as you can." He counted to himself, "Thirty-five, thirty-six ..."

Rapture looked over the Child in Time. Her hair was singed. Her skin was blistered in areas, but not too badly damaged to hold her together. She had scrapes and cuts, but there were no obviously broken bones. Rapture put her hands on Sorana's chest and abdomen and concentrated. She had moderate internal trauma in her chest ... minor trauma in her abdomen. There was more damage to her spinal cord. Rapture moved her hand to Sorana's forehead. There was extensive brain trauma. The damage was actually being repaired as Rapture explored—the work of Sorana's regenerative systems.

Heart ... lungs ... brain. Rapture placed both hands on Sorana's chest and concentrated her efforts to heal Sorana's heart. She directed her energy to surround the heart and begin repairs from all around. The damage was deep. It was slow work without a functioning circulatory system. It took extra effort and time for Rapture's energy to reach the heart. She first concentrated on the frayed edges of a nearly-severed aorta, refocusing as areas were repaired.

The work slowed as Sorana's regenerative systems ran out of energy and shut down. Sorana's regenerative system was efficient, probably specifically attuned to Sorana's physiology. Switching strategy, Rapture attempted to focus on Sorana's regenerative system. Maybe she could recharge it. Despite her power and effort, she couldn't find a way to interface effectively.

"Fifty-eight, fifty-nine ..."

Nature took over. Rapture snatched her melodic dagger and cut Sorana's dress to expose her chest. She made a cut in Sorana's chest, and a cut in her own hand. Rapture pressed her bleeding hand to Sorana's fresh chest wound. Rapture shifted her weight to compress Sorana's chest, forcing her bleeding wound to closer proximity with Sorana's heart. The circuit completed. Sorana's systems suckled at Rapture's exposed nerves. The pain was excruciating, but Rapture held the position. She even applied pressure in cycles, massaging the heart.

"Ninety-three, ninety-four—that's half-time, Rap."

The heart was repaired enough to function. It would slip fluid, but it could do its job.

Heart ... lungs ... brain. Rapture felt around Sorana's ribs. The lungs were far larger than the heart, and they were more damaged. Without the pulmonary system to distribute energy, Rapture would not be able to heal them in time. She took a deep breath, pinched off Sorana's nose and breathed into her mouth. Sorana's chest rose. Rapture released the seal around Sorana's mouth, and her chest fell. The contact was good, but air, even moist breath, wasn't a good conduit for healing.

Rapture cut her own tongue, screaming to combat the pain. She bled profusely as the taste of copper filled her mouth. Resisting the urge to gag, she breathed into Sorana again, blowing hard to carry liquid to the lungs. She lifted up Sorana's lean torso so that gravity would assist. It was working. The tiny sacks that transferred oxygen from lungs to capillaries sealed, and would now hold air.

"Thirty seconds, Rap." Don was exhausted. He strained to maintain the flow of Catalytic energy.

Rapture was tiring, and she had Sorana's electrocuted nervous system still to go. There was simply no way to repair that much brain damage in thirty seconds. But maybe she didn't have to. If Rapture just repaired the spinal column up to the brain stem, it would provide autonomic functionality. Then maybe Sorana's own systems would power themselves, and maybe they could repair the higher brain functions. Unfortunately, even the spinal column alone, with countless frays, was beyond her power to repair so quickly.

But maybe it wasn't beyond the power of her sirenic ancestors.

Rapture pulled up her sleeve to expose Mercy's bracer and positioned her forearm so that the azure moon faced upward. She picked up the melodic dagger and struck the azure moon with the dagger's butt. The shell didn't break. It was too hard.

Rapture held the Sacred Moon up close to her mouth and unleashed a sonic barrage. She varied the pitch until the crystal vibrated. The Lichtrinker lit up. The crystal shattered. Rapture poured the Lichtrinker and nymph tear solution into her mouth. She tried to catch most of the shattered crystal in the crystal's setting.

Don helped Rapture reposition Sorana in her arms. Rapture sealed her mouth around Sorana's and breathed the fluid mixture into her body. After Sorana's lungs expelled the air, Rapture blew again, and repeated at a natural interval. With Don's help, she simultaneously compressed Sorana's chest in a natural heart beat rhythm.

"Time—it's time, Mi Ardore." Don was grim. They laid Sorana on her back. "You can't touch her."

Rapture scooted back.

He put his hands over Sorana's heart. "Sorana, Velsignet ..." His hand began to glow blue with a charge of energy. "We never abandoned you." He shocked her.

Sorana's body jerked. She weakly coughed some fluid out of her lungs and started breathing on her own.

Don got some water and helped Sorana drink.

Rapture healed Sorana until she was stabilized, then sat back, exhausted. The siren's tear solution had already relieved the pain of the dagger cut on her tongue. "Don, something feels different. I mean, I feel relief and the joy, but there is something else, like an emptiness."

Don put the picnic blanket over Sorana and tucked his cloak under her neck. "I feel it, too. We are no longer being compelled."

"Why would my binding break? Because she was part of it and died?"

"Not your binding—hers. She was compelling us, whether she knew it or not."

"But then what about mine—ours?"

"Were we ever bound? If we were, when did it fade? Maybe it was just human chemistry. Perhaps we were apart so much that the chemistry never had a chance to fade."

"Does it have to fade?" Rapture monitored Sorana's unconscious breathing.

"Usually. There are cases where a couple shares an unrelated bond and they credit each other for the passion, and that can lead to a lasting erotic bond."

"Like what?"

"Well, it can be anything—usually something that is rare and socially isolating."

"I don't understand."

Don took her hand. "Mi Ardore, it is freedom. It means that what we've always known to be true actually is. It means that we don't know what dreams may come." Don stroked her hand delicately. He pulled the Ring of Uncreation off his finger and offered it to Rapture. "We now have the choice to spend the rest of our lives together. Binding or bonding, or simple fading chemistry, I want to be with you forever, if you would marry me."

"I ..." I can't give you children. I don't know if I can love forever without the binding. I have no family or home to offer. The mental fog cleared as everything in her life suddenly made sense. "Yes, of course, yes."

# Chapter 80

End of an Epoch

"It just seems strange—no casket." Finnur wiped his forehead and sat heavily, a step away from Mercy's grave.

"It's what she wanted." Visor collected some of the digging tools, picking up one awkwardly in his left hand with the two missing fingers. "In the forge ground."

"With the smell from the stable." Ranie smacked her pants to knock off dirt. "Three hundred years old?"

Visor said, "Give or take."

Rapture said, "So, is Sorana the same? I mean, you know ..."

"No, Sorana is biologically programmed for a long life. The difference is that the Frame was trying to retrofit Mercy Bathony, a regular human body programmed for a normal life span. It just couldn't make her body work any longer."

Mystique squealed and snorted from the adjoining stable.

Finnur asked, "Should we say some words?"

Ranie asked, "Without Sorana?"

"She didn't want to be here." Visor sat at the foot of the grave mound. "I wouldn't know what to say, anyway. Mercy did some good things and some things not so good. She was just a woman, a person, like the rest of us, trying to do the best she could. It was just beyond her ability."

Rapture kneeled behind Visor and leaned against him.

Visor said, "But at least she recognized she needed help. I wasn't the first she tried. For her to hold out so long with the weight she carried was by itself something to be admired. I can't help but wonder if I will follow in her footsteps. Will I be buried here someday?"

Ranie took a seat next to Finnur, watching Visor attentively.

Visor said, "Who knows what path Mercy's life would have taken had she remained Baroness Bathony rather than becoming part of the Frame. She faced the Banshee as a human, then as a machine, then as a mother. Her life was consumed in that struggle. In the end, she did what she had to do."

Finnur asked, "I still don't understand why you couldn't trust her. You were doing what she wanted. Oh, I'm sorry, were you done? I didn't mean to interrupt."

"No, everyone can talk—whatever's on your mind." Visor said, "You have to realize that she had the two completely different sides of her personality—the human, Bathony, and the Frame."

"But ..." Rapture struggled for words.

Visor held up his hands. "Okay, let's start at the beginning. Well, not the beginning, but before Sorana. Some time ago, a long time ago, Belial escaped from the Frame and possessed the oracle Maciate. The Frame wants to retrieve him. Belial wants to return, but on his own terms. See, the Frame wants to scan him in, and he wants to jump in. To scan him, she'd have to get him inside with his ability to jump disabled. To jump in, he'd have to disable the Frame's defenses from access ports on the exterior of the tower."

Ranie said, "They are in a stalemate."

Visor said, "It is virtually impossible for the Frame to capture Belial. The Catalyst allows him to create cyborgs. They're enhanced guards that are under his control and in constant contact. They can blend into society, always on the lookout. They destroy or warn him of any threat, and in a pinch, he can transfer his consciousness to any of them."

Ranie said, "And then back later, as long as one else took control of the Catalyst."

"Conversely, it is virtually impossible for Belial to breech the tower. He doesn't know where it is, and it is protected by electronic fields that detect and deter cyborgs. The Frame also has wardens that patrol the surrounding forest. They're not enhanced like cyborgs, but they are well trained and armed with weapons that are specifically designed to disable cyborg enhancements."

Ranie said, "Her field agents keep him on the defensive."

Visor said, "In Dodelige terms, this was the Proxy War."

Finnur hung his head. "I should never have doubted you, Rainaria. I am sorry for any additional stress I caused trying to get you to focus elsewhere."

"I know you meant well, dad."

Visor said, "Generations passed. Belial jumped to new bodies. Cyborgs were created and destroyed."

Ranie said, "Drones."

Visor said, "Proxy-wardens were killed and reincarnated."

Ranie said, "Proxies are the original inhabitants of the Tower of Mercy."

Visor said, "At some point, Belial realized he needed a new weapon. He developed a method of enhanced biological reproduction. While possessing Thyestes, he seeded Sasindara to create a Spawness. As biological variance would have it, he got two spawnesses for the price of one."

Ranie said, "Sorana and Europhette. And there were others."

"He at least impregnated Mercy to create Uriel."

Ranie said, "He built in a link to his spawns."

"Belial used that link to jump to Uriel when Thyestes was captured by Liesen."

Ranie said, "And after Uriel was captured, he tried to jump to Sorana."

Finnur said, "And thus began the Age of the Mortal Banshee."

Rapture asked, "Did he make her do all those things?"

Visor said, "Well, she resisted his influence."

"His link to the twins wasn't complete. But he ...." Ranie hid her face.

Finner put a supportive arm around Ranie. "The distant mother didn't help."

"Mercy was always torn between Belial and Sorana. The Frame wanted to save Belial. Bathony wanted to protect Sorana and herself." Visor said, "Bathony used Sorana as a sort of black ops warden. She had to prevent Belial from detecting and possessing her. The Frame used a combination of electrical and chemical therapy to suppress Belial's link. She could even erase engrams—Sorana's memory—as necessary."

Ranie said, "As necessary to manipulate her."

"That was the warm and loving Mercy we knew." Rapture looked at the grave. "I'll stop now."

Visor said, "To capture Belial, I had to set up the situation where Sorana believed she was just outside the tower, while she was actually inside. And I had to get her into a state that was vulnerable to Belial's link."

Finnur asked, "Why didn't you scan him as soon as he was in the tower?"

"It would have destroyed Sorana—taken all of her memories and mixed them up with Maciate's. Also, I wasn't sure what would happen once he was inside the Fragment. He did escape once before."

Finnur asked, "Then once he realized he was inside the Tower, why wouldn't he jump back to Uriel?"

"He tried. But once it looked like he'd finished jumping to Sorana, I used the tower to suppress any external links. Also, I had Europhette destroy Uriel."

Rapture asked, "Why would she help us?"

Visor said, "I've been working predictions for her. And I'm pretty sure she was helping Sorana, not us. Anyway, to give Europhette a little more time, I had to let Belial attack you."

"Oh, you _let_ him?"

"I knew you'd be fine.

Finnur asked, "How did he attack her?"

Visor said, "He tried to jump to her. Basically, he tried to mentally dominate Rap's personality and transfer his consciousness to her. It was the safest place to be."

"My head is safe?"

"Of course. Who's going to scan a siren?"

Ranie said, "Mercy, if it got her what she wanted."

Visor said, "Look, she wasn't evil. Of course, she wasn't good either."

"Morally void is evil."

"Only if she had the capacity for choice. Bathony wasn't actually making choices after the Frame implanted the conjoin."

"None of us are really making our own choices."

"So your premise is that there is no difference between being controlled by the universe at large and being controlled by a single entity?"

"Don't you try to bait me."

Finnur waved a hand. "Hey, kids. Maybe now isn't the time?"

Visor said, "I am in control of the tower now. I'm linked to the proxies. I have access to all the information she did." He looked at Ranie. "By the way, it was Nero."

"Of course." Ranie punched the dirt. "The Anti-siren."

Rapture said, "Okay, whatever."

Finnur said, "You two have lost us again."

Visor said, "Nero is the one that tried to have Sister Mary killed."

Finnur said, "We have to let the sheriff know."

Visor said, "We will take care of it in due time. She's safe for the time being."

"You say that like you know it."

"I do. Gwendolyn is one of the proxies. She's aware of the situation and watching over Mary."

Finnur said, "So Belial was trapped inside Sorana, inside the tower. Then what?"

Visor said, "He jumped to Evan's brain."

Ranie said, "Visor let Belial onto the tower network. I was on the network and telepathically linked to Evan. We'd burned a partial copy of the Fragment to Evan's brain."

Visor said, "In haste, Belial thought Evan was a remote access point to the Fragment, so he jumped."

Finnur said, "So, you were in control of the tower's electric fields at that point. You killed Sorana to push him out. That must have been difficult."

Visor said, "Yes, it was"

Rapture grimaced. "It hurt so much."

Finnur said, "If you weren't able to revive her, she would be dead."

Visor said, "And I would be a killer."

"Some might read this as your sacrificing Sorana to save your sister. Am I getting the details right?"

Ranie said, "It was a calculated risk, not a sacrifice."

Visor said, "Just write it as you see it, and people can make up their own minds. If they think I was wrong, then maybe I was."

Rapture patted his back. "It's okay. It turned out okay."

Finnur said, "So, after he jumped into Evan's brain?"

Ranie said, "I severed our connection to the tower. At that point, he was trapped within Evan's empty mind. In essence, he only existed as a figment of my imagination. Then, when the time was right, I destroyed him."

# Chapter 81

Transcendence

"And your Sparkling Angel of Gray." The holographic image of the Uncreation Spawness on the muddy hill faded. The screens of the Tower's map room darkened. A wall panel opened.

Ranie removed the beautiful Ring of Uncreation from the mechanical finger in the wall. She stroked it adoringly before handing it to Sorana. "And that is Wescott's prediction of Uncreation."

Sorana sat on the rug. "Who is Mettleheart?"

"We don't know. We have been looking. It was the verbiage of Uncreation that set me on the path to research Spawness ... you. You have a good soul. As long as people don't know that, there is a great injustice in the world. The Paragon has twisted history to suit their own ends—their hunger for power and control."

"So?"

"So, it was the Paragon that fed you to Maciate ... that researches mass infanticide."

Finnur stood behind them. "We don't know that they mean any harm with the research."

"Okay!" Ranie bowed her head in capitulation. "But the Paragon _is_ a stain on humanity. They are the ones that pitted Pale Siren against Mortal Banshee. They quash anyone who doesn't bow to their authority. They keep Raykez out of the war. We could set things right."

Sorana said, "I don't want to kill more people."

"Oh, no, no, no—I don't mean that at all. I'm not talking about vengeance. I'm talking about setting things right. They pitted us against each other for a reason. Don't you think the Paragon has oracles working for them? I would bet there are predictions in which one or both of us defeated them—I mean their organization. All we have to do is stand together. Think about it: if Pale Siren and Mortal Banshee stood together before the world, before Raykez and God, we would be invincible. The Paragon would dissolve without a fight. They would simply cease to exist. All of their deception and manipulation would come to an end."

"Then what will become of me?"

"Whatever you want. I created the Dodelige in your name. Make it whatever you want. With the Paragon destroyed, it could take on a role as a watchdog for religious organizations. It could become a women's shelter. Maybe it could be an embassy."

Finnur said, "I don't have any easy answers for you, but I would like the opportunity to help you. I have studied cases similar to—with some similarities to, rather—your case. I believe that, given time, we could develop a program that you would benefit from."

Ranie said, "I don't know what you're looking for, but the point is that you won't be alone. You could even stay with me if you like. I don't mean to be push. I know you've had enough of that. But have you considered our bond? We're part of the same story. And we loved the same man. And we were left by that same man for the same woman. We've faced the same demon. We want the same things."

"And after that is done? Then what? You will grow old and die, your destiny fulfilled. I will not. What is my destiny after forever? Shall I live long enough to see the end of wars? Long enough for all friends to abandon me? Am I destined to awaken screaming in the night for loves lost? To become ever more callus as my world dies screaming? For centuries, I have been bound to this tower. Now, with only hours remaining, I only wish the Banshee had taken me—given me the end I rightfully earned. This is not my time. This is not my world. I should have known this was all a lie."

Ranie said, "Not all of it."

"Most of it."

Finnur asked, "Where do you feel you belong?"

Ranie said, "She's going to see the vampire queen."

Sorana said, "She is the only one who can possibly understand."

Ranie said, "No, I understand. I promise you I understand. You are ageless, but you are not invincible. You need protection, too. I can do that. I swear to you. I will be your friend throughout my years. Should you scream in dreams, I will enter to fight your fears. Every tear you cascaded will return to haunt the perpetrators. Let them send forth their greatest guardians, and we will crush them all. We will grind their bodies to pulp and shred their souls with the barbed chains of—"

"Rainaria!" Finnur put his hands on her shoulders. "What are you doing?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry. It's just ... Spawness. After all ... she is Spawness."

"You're channeling her. Be careful."

Ranie realized she was cradling Sorana's face. And Sorana's thoughts were still pouring in:

We will unearth their rotting corpses to dissect their diseased hearts. We will salt the earth and desecrate their undeserved rest. Their putrid souls will rot in—

Ranie jerked her hands back.

Sorana's demeanor was brooding and introverted, as usual. But her usual demeanor did not indicate the depths of jadedness to which mind wandered. Did she always swim in deranged fantasies of retribution as reality transpired around her?

Finnur said, "The queen does share your ageless biology—a rare trait, to be sure. That tends to draw people together."

"She's my sister."

"And she is your sister. We are biologically predisposed to trust and protect family, particularly close relatives, such as sisters. But one common trait among people is to expect too much from those we hold close. Sometimes, a professional can provide a more ... thought-out direction. I would encourage you to consider visiting the University of Raykez. We have a department dedicated to the study and treatment of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I know Doctor Jansen. He is committed to his work and would not hesitate to take on your case." Finnur paced. "You see, when we humans, and I imagine half vardal, experience something that is too painful, too shameful to comprehend, we repress it. It is removed from our consciousness. But the imprint of the experience remains, and can affect your outlook on life. We have the resources to help you."

Sorana sneered at Finnur. "You put me in a cage."

"That was for your own—" Finnur cut himself off and held up his hands defensively. "Ranie, please be careful. Call if you need anything." He left the room.

Sorana said, "He's right. It's better if I'm caged."

Ranie kissed Sorana's forehead. "One kiss to show I'm not afraid."

"You should be."

"We don't even know you killed him."

"But I probably did. And hundreds of others, if not thousands."

"Even if your hand killed Athian, it really wasn't you. At least Donnie and I don't blame you. The things you lived through... Dear God, give yourself a break. I saw the Singing Blade Lullaby. You never had a chance."

"A lot of people grow up on isolated farmsteads. They don't become mass murderers."

"But they aren't publicly tormented and possessed by a demon. And then drugged by an alien machine."

Sorana looked down and away.

Ranie said, "In dealing with things that happened to me, I found the first step in recovery is being able to talk about it. Being able to tell others—to discuss it, rather than fearing it—is empowering. It lets you place blame where it belongs. You can talk to me.

"And the biggest step of recovery was forgiveness. You helped me with that. When you forced Ignas to link with me, I could see his insecurities and fears. He wasn't some malevolent, powerful monster that had control over me. He is as human as the rest of us—sometimes decent, occasionally cruel and stupid. He knew he was in the wrong, and knowing that he knew helped. He wasn't as sorry as I would have liked, but at least I could face him on my terms. He was so scared of you. He mostly cared about his own skin. There was nothing powerful about him. In the end, he was just a scared little boy.

"And now, if you will let me, I want to try to do the same for you." Ranie realized her hands were holding Sorana's. She moved them to Sorana's temples and formed a link. _You know that I faced Belial inside of Evan's mind. I did destroy him. What I said was true, but it was not the whole truth. You need to see the whole truth._ Inside the link, Ranie reformed the Archon battlefield.

Pale Siren withdrew her lance from Belial's chest.

The wound healed instantly.

The ground rumbled.

Belial surveyed the fading landscape. "I see now. You have won, however you did it. But do you even know why?"

Pale Siren said, "You are a soulless fiend."

"No, I am a scientist. And I am sorry for the pain I've caused you and your friends." He clamped his hands together. "And I would ask you, please, take my work and feed it to the Fragment. And use it for yourselves as well."

"I believe your people are deceased."

Belial nodded. "I understand. But there are others that will someday find the Fragment. And if nothing else, take my research for yourself. All should benefit from my work."

"I don't want your research."

"But that would be foolish."

"Oh?"

"You don't understand. The data I've collected could change your future—the future of your world—you can use it to end diseases, bring about the industrial revolution, the digital era, the end of racial strife."

"I don't care. You are sick. Your findings would be poison to our society. It is so contaminated by your delusional arrogance that it would be more detrimental than helpful. We will find our own way as a people and as a world of races."

"I understand that you are upset by my methods. You think I'm a psychopath. I assure you I'm not. I'm just a researcher. Look, our community struggles with ethics of xenobiological research. With the benefit of hindsight, I admit that I stepped over the line. Regardless of whether or not you believe me, you should take my work."

"You need to understand something. I don't want there to be any misconceptions on this point. I don't want your work because it has no value. What you are is beside the point. And we both know exactly what you are."

"What choice did I have? They violated my daughter—again and again."

"Daughter? She was your weapon—a tool for your little war. Only a psychopath would think violating her mind was justified by violations of her body. Why not at least send a drone to kill them?"

"When I learned what they did to her, I couldn't wait. She was there. I just acted."

"This was a crime of passion?"

"It was just a reaction."

"Then you are a poor scientist as well. You ruined the experiment in frustration—destroyed the test subject because of your inability to control the environment. She survived the Baptism. But you, with your pathetic, fragile ego, couldn't handle it. Are you to unredeemable, too unsophisticated to understand? The Baptism of Stains did not destroy her. You did!"

The universe twisted and distorted at her words. The ground shook and shifted at the echoes of her accusation. The Archon board cracked.

Belial became apprehensive. "But what is done is done. Yes, your people were harmed so that science could benefit. Perhaps that was unjust, but—"

"And there it is." Siren exhaled and relaxed as the world disintegrated.

"There what is? Look, these results..." He exhaled in resignation. "My life was about this."

"I know ... I know. And no one cares. But you have given me what I need. So now we are done."

Everything faded, save Pale Siren and the demon.

Belial's tone was soft. "What will you do now?"

"Nothing."

"It doesn't look like nothing."

"I have spent my adult life pursuing you—to save Spawness from you. And now, that is done."

Belial faded away.

"And now, you are nothing."

Spawness appeared next to Siren inside the link. "You gave up all of that knowledge? Why?"

"No, of course not. I took everything he knew the instant he dropped his encryption lockouts."

"Then you lied to him."

"I lied for you."

"You broke him."

"Yes, I broke him for you." Pale Siren helped Spawness up to sit side-saddle in front of her. "You must know now, beyond any doubt, where guilt lies. Belial killed all those people and he is no longer a part of you. He is gone and will never come back." Within the link, she stroked Spawness's hair aside and spoke into her ear. "I know you. Spawness, you are innocent."

Spawness gasped and trembled.

Siren wrapped her arms around Spawness. Siren swayed the trembling little girl. "You have traveled through our world, tasting its sorrow and joy. I've been where you are, your heart so wounded and alone—out in the world, searching for home. But you don't have to search. Come with me and I will give you home."

Spawness wept softly, resting her head on Pale Siren's shoulder. "I know what you think, but you can't love me, at least what others might call love. You might love the concept of me, the Spawness."

"Don't shut your eyes to me."

"This feels like destiny."

"This is how it's supposed to be. You compelled Donnie and Rap, but you never compelled me."

"You are grasping because Evan is married."

"I was always your friend."

"I wish the past didn't exist."

"I always knew you were innocent."

"I'm scared."

"I'm not."

"All I feel is emptiness and longing." Spawness began to cry, but composed herself. "No, it is too soon for that."

"I know. Not today." A calm, moonlit ocean appeared around them. The duelicorn stood on the deck of an otherwise unoccupied galleon. "Find me when the time is right and I'll hold you. Even if it's the middle of the night, I'll take you here. And maybe that night, we'll sail so far away, we'll fade as one into the dawn."

"I wish I'd never wake from this dream. It feels so real."

"And it's ours."

"Our Transcendence, away from everything, so safe and silent ... could you keep me here forever?"

"I could stay here until my body starves. You sooth my mind in a way I've never known."

"Our Transcendence is the only peace I've ever known."

Siren kissed the top of Spawness's head. "From the moment I saw you—even before—our souls recognized each other. We are linked in a way that is beyond reality ... outside of time."

"Somehow, I know to believe in you."

"We were bound by oracles, even before I was born."

"You give me hope for better days."

"Better days await you."

"You have always been my friend. That is all the more reason to leave. The doctor is right. It isn't safe for me to be around normal people right now. I need time to understand this—to get some control. And I have to go see what it is that my sister promises."

"I understand."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"I will come to you."

"I will be waiting."

# Chapter 82

Dawn of Mercy's War

Rapture was so beautiful, her hair shining goldish-red in the light of a sun rise. A light breeze tousled her hair as they stood upon the roof of the Tower of Mercy. Skarholt Forest stretched out for leagues below. Holding his hands and staring into his eyes, she said, "No longer shall I gaze lonely upon the blue moon. Embraced by your gentleness, I have found the meaning of my life."

Visor said, "The dawn's light elevates me. With you, I awaken to the heaven of dreams. Holding you, I hold the desires of my life."

Rapture and Visor spoke together, "May our hearts beat together into eternity."

Ranie said, "Burke Donovan Mourning, do you take Engel Rapture, Natalia, daughter of Frigg, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to protect and cherish for the remainder of your life."

"I certainly do."

"Rapture, do you take Don to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love and stand beside for the remainder of your life?"

"You bet I do."

Visor slid the Ring of Uncreation onto Rapture's finger.

Ranie said, "Then by the power granted to me, I now pronounce you man and wife."

Sorana, Quenton and Finnur clapped from the audience. Rapture took the Ring off and gave it to Quenton. Visor and Rapture took seats in the audience. Quenton left and returned shortly pushing a wheel chair.

Evan was still recovering from the latest treatment. She was weak, emaciated and confined to the wheel chair, but Visor's heart warmed seeing his sister dressed in a beautiful gown. After some words, Quenton slipped the Ring onto Evan's hand, and the two were married.

Evan gave the ring to Finnur, and he presented it to Ranie as an adoption gift.

Ranie gave it to Visor as a contract buyout for the Quenton rescue.

Visor gave it to Sorana as consideration for relinquishing her claim to the Tower of Mercy.

Sorana changed her name to Amber Dawn Velsignet.

Visor pushed Evan's chair near the edge of the tower so she could see a small falls below. He knelt next to her.

Evan spoke weakly. "You figured out the tower's machines?"

"Enough to help you, anyway. It was a matter of focusing energy beams in the right spot to kill the growth in your brain."

"How much longer?"

"I don't know—weeks, at least. We have to let your body expel the killed cells and rehydrate between the treatments. That's the limitation on progress."

"It hurts so bad."

"Sorry. The facilities are set up to keep you alive, but they aren't designed with a human's comfort in mind. I'll see what I can do about the pain."

Ranie walked up. She was now wearing the Ring of Uncreation. "How are you feeling, Ev?"

Evan said, "You linking helps. It's distracting—the memories."

Ranie smiled. "It helps to have family close."

Evan said, "I like the time in the old mill, when we tipped the cow and ran into the outhose."

Ranie said, "You mean when you pushed me out of the way so you could get your butt in first?"

Visor said, "Wait—family? How are you related to Quenton?"

A devious smile formed on Ranie's face. "Oh, my. You didn't tell him yet, Ev?"

"Holy shit. Forgot." Evan started gasping. No, she was laughing, sort of.

"Oh, Donnie ..." Ranie was absolutely delighted. She put her arm around him. "Sweet, little Donnie, all those beautiful moments, the covered cart, George's top bunk, the white patch hollow tree ... don't cousins make the best teachers?"

"OOOO!" Visor guffawed. "You're making that up."

Evan said, "Half."

Ranie rolled her eyes. "Okay, half cousin. Your dad's dad is my mom's dad, too. It was in the tower's records. Check it."

He checked the Tower's records, and she was right. Mercy had done her research on him.

Ranie asked, "But really, how surprising is it, though? A telepath and an oracle from the same farmstead? You know how rare that is. I'm surprised you never predicted it."

"Yeah, it's genetically inherited. I just never—" It's genetic!

Evan said, "Donnie?"

"Donnie?" Ranie shook his shoulder. "Hey, it's not like we produced any dimwits. It's not that bad."

"It's not that." He looked over at Rap, smiling and nodding gracefully as others talked, as she always did. She was grace divine and beauty serene, Emotion and Devotion. "We always assumed it was a vampiric telepath she carried. What if it wasn't?"

Amber Dawn Velsignet—Sorana—headed for the stairs.

Visor said, "I will give you the tower, if you want it."

She stopped.

He took a step after her. "I still feel like it is more yours than mine. I just borrowed it to destroy Belial, and to save my sister."

Sorana turned partially, but didn't look at him. She was humiliated. Or perhaps she just hated him that much.

Rapture moved beside him. "You don't have to leave. You can stay here in the tower. Or if you want, you can take my suite at the Siren Sanctuary. They will take care of you there—treat you with respect."

"And if you want to stay here, then when and if we move to WaterCrescent, you can come with us." Visor opened his arms. "When we talked earlier about how things would be different now—that doesn't mean that we don't want you around. There will always be a place for you."

Rapture said, "We still think of you as a friend."

Visor said, "We need you. We never would have been able to do everything we did without you. We have so much more to do."

Sorana gave him a look of incredulous disdain. It was good that looks couldn't kill. Actually, Sorana's possibly could.

Rapture sighed. "We would miss you. Of course it is up to you, but—"

"Bye." Sorana turned and left.

The two stood in silence for a time. Rapture asked, "Are we terrible people?"

"I don't know. We are people. It is what it is." Visor sat in a chair and pressed his hands together. The last two fingers of his right hand folded over the stubs on the left. "But that is done. So what now?"

"Can't we just stay here forever?" Rapture looked at the forest wistfully.

"That would be nice, but only I am stuck here."

Rapture let out a big sigh. "I eventually have to leave."

"WaterCrescent is occupied. Xandria is threatened. Raykez is in disarray. People need our help. They need you out there to run things."

"Me run things?" She laughed.

"Yes, you. People will follow you."

"Yeah, but ..."

"I'll be with you, in a way. We'll make sure there's always a warden nearby."

"I guess."

"I feel like we have to try."

"Oh, of course. You have to rescue all the sirens." She pursed her lips in exaggerated shock. "I heard they took some Marigolds."

They leaned their heads close together.

Visor said, "And there's—"

"So what are we going to do?" Ranie smiled apologetically. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop."

Evan said, "Me neither."

Visor said, "There's WaterCrescent, of course. With Presence cut off south of Xandria, it looks like something that is out of reach for now."

Evan said, "Damn, Donnie, you sound like you just lost your best friend."

He made an effort to sound normal. "It's fine. We just lost the best asset we had, but we'll be fine. We have the tower wardens. They're pretty good soldiers."

Evan leaned forward and hugged him. "I know you'll miss her."

Ranie said, "What you did wasn't wrong, Donnie. She's just scared and disappointed—the way it all happened. I mean, who wouldn't be?"

Visor said, "Yeah, I could understand why she'd want to get away from this place for a while."

Ranie said, "She didn't want to leave, you dork. She had to. She retained Maciate's knowledge. Could you imagine living like that? Knowing that with one unfortunate thought, one inadvertent flutter of your heart, you could kill any of us? To peer into your own soul and see the very heart of evil?" Ranie looked around. "Her words—not mine. She just needs some time to get a handle on it. She'll be back."

"She was just a weapon to him."

"But don't feel bad, Donnie. You did what you had to do." Ranie smiled supportively. "It would have been worse to have strung her along for years."

"Oh, come on!"

Ranie smirked. "Kidding ... just kidding. But really, it was kind of you to make the offer, considering what she did to you."

"What she did to me?"

"You're joking."

Evan said, "When she raped you."

"Oh, she did not."

More than one of the women gasped.

Ranie said, "Um, let's see, she forced you to have sex with her against your will."

"But she didn't intend any harm."

"Donnie, that is quite possibly the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say."

He looked to Rapture for help. She was in shock.

Evan said, "Such a dork."

Visor said, "It wasn't her fault. I mean, come on, guys, with the whole Mortal Banshee thing?"

Rapture rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

Evan asked, "You think Maciate plays for the other team?"

Visor said, "No! I mean, it's not even about that anyway."

"She controlled your mind, and you don't even care. I can't believe this." Ranie got in his face. "She took away your free will for her personal benefit. What is the definition of wrong? Look, she's my friend, but even I have to admit she has a dark side."

"Well, I guess it depends on the whole situation."

"You mean whether or not she's small and skinny?"

"No. I don't know. I mean ... Rap did and it was no big deal." Oh, crap! "Wait, that's not what I meant."

Rapture said, "Oh! If you think we—you just—oh, I don't even know—".

"I mean, that was different, of course, because I asked you to." There was no good way out of this.

"That's right it was different!" Rapture was still fuming. "You just—"

Finnur said, "Perhaps we should focus on war efforts."

Visor said, "Maybe we should look at Raykez first. We could arrest Nero, seize the Silent Oratory and put it under the control of the Sanctuary. If we could break White Heart's coalition with the Com, then the Symphonic Knights would be freed up to form the core of a new army. Of course, this would already have been done if we'd known we had a telepath the first time we were Raykez."

"Oh!" Ranie looked ready to fight.

"Just kidding." Visor waved defensively. "But there's urgency with Xandria. It is almost surrounded and Krafer's won't hold out long. Some sirens have already been captured. Perhaps we should go straight there and do what we can to reinforce Krafer's."

Rapture said, "They have the riding albatrosses—in Xandria, I mean."

"Yes, they are evacuating some of the young ones, and some of the Xandrians. The albatrosses can't carry most of the adults."

Ranie asked, "Are you getting that from the tower?"

"I can read where the conjoins are, except some that are shielded."

Ranie asked, "So you want to evacuate the sirens?"

Evan said, "We could use the boat."

Visor said, "But the Virtuosa doesn't fly."

"Hugh?"

Ranie said, "It's a different lake, dumbass. You'd have to go up Chiming Falls to get to Xandria Lake."

Evan narrowed her eyes. "Yeah, well, you kissed your cousin."

"So did you."

"A lot of people experiment in college."

"But you weren't in college."

"Ho-bag."

Rapture said, "So getting kicked out of Xandria may not matter for long anyway."

Visor said, "Maybe, but she didn't want to take the chance."

"What do you mean?"

"Lara—well, I was going to try to get a prediction of my own before saying anything, and I thought it best to tell you in private first. But we're all here now. There was a proxy in Xandria that collected some information on Lara. Lara believes you are going to do something important."

"With the war?"

"More important than that, from the view of a Konigin."

"Like what?" Everyone was waiting now.

"Okay, we knew she was using oracles. And the way that works is just percentages, right? So she was just doing something that she though would help make one of the predictions be more likely come true. She didn't want you to settle in Xandria, or even have that as an option."

"The Banshee?"

"I'm sure that was part of it, but defeating the Banshee was mostly something Europhette wanted from you. This is something for Lara—for all sirens, all nymphs. Realize this is third-hand information, so I'm not sure what elements are true. Being a prediction, you never know. There are so many variables."

"I know, Don. You've told me."

Ranie said, "Just tell us, Donnie."

"Okay." He took Rapture's hand. "Lara saw a prediction in which a Natalia-a, with the help of an oracle, found the Trail of Sapphires and followed it to rediscover Wacken. There, she found a tribe of banshee and made possible the reunification of the Nymph Nation."

Rapture was stunned.

"I wasn't even sure whether or not to tell you. Obviously, she thought it best not to."

"I know, Don." Rapture repeated words he'd said to her times previous. "It is unlikely, and unless we know what to do, there's no sense wasting time on it." She let it sink in. "But if you find out something else, I want you to let me know."

"Then I will. Also, the druid council has renounced your title of Red Flame. You will henceforth be known as 'Scarlet Fox of Augusta', at least in Xandria."

"Wow. I don't know what to say." Rapture looked at the sky. "If I'd known that being tortured and fighting demons would lose me that title, I would have done it years ago."

"Rap!" Ranie laughed out loud.

Visor said, "Now that was a good one."

Rapture waved him off dismissively. "Okay, go on with your war thing."

Visor said, "All right, on with the 'war thing'. If Xandria didn't demand immediate action, I'd like to get the Virtuosa refitted first. It would be a good mobile base, good transportation, and maybe useful for blockading WaterCrescent."

Finnur furrowed his eyebrows. "Blockade the Cove with one ship? A concert ship? Wouldn't the Ardor Crest alone sink us, along with everything else Raykez has?"

"It would be upgraded."

"Upgraded?"

"For one thing, we'd plate the hull with polarized melodic metal. We'd install some auto loading ballistae for close combat, and a rail gun for range targets and coastal bombardment."

Ranie said, "An armored cruiser."

Evan said, "Wouldn't you sink?"

Visor said, "That depends on how we shape it and how much metal we used. Obviously, we can't make it solid metal. We would make it so that it wouldn't sink."

Finnur said, "But attaching the metal ... forging it ... and what do you mean 'polarized'?"

Ranie said, "It's an electrical state. It's Fragment technology."

Finnur said, "You know what he's talking about?"

Ranie shrugged. "I downloaded Mercy's memory. I know how pixies refract light. I understand the Proxy Realm, why only some of us have conjoins and why the nightingale sings. Yes, I know what he's talking about."

Finnur said, "Speaking of, has anyone seen Pixie?"

Visor said, "Not since Evan's seizure. Maybe he just had enough and went home."

Ranie said, "Maybe he was afraid of catching something, after the way Athian and Evan got sick."

"Maybe." Visor said, "We'd also want a powered propulsion system. The main limitation to all of this is the power source."

Ranie said, "You need a generator—an interface to hook up to conjoins. Or some vardal."

Visor nodded slowly. "I think we can find the tools and components in the catacombs below the tower."

Rapture asked, "What catacombs?"

Visor said, "Remember how the forge has that underground storage shed?"

"I guess. You may have mentioned it."

"I'm not sure if we ever discussed it." Visor said, "Anyway, it is a lot more extensive than Mercy suggested. It connects to a network of catacombs. We have access to laboratories and assembly tools."

Ranie said, "We can perform large-scale, fine machining on metals that are heat treated to the microstructure state of our specification. The limits of what we can do with this are bounded by our imagination."

"And finding a power source."

"And time."

"What I really need, more than anything, is an engineer—a really sharp one—to run all of this."

Evan said, "Hey Meole. You're pretty smart."

"Thanks, Ev." Ranie tried to hide a smile. "I'll think about it."

Evan said, "Well, I guess I could do it ... I just have to, oh, I don't know ...."

Visor said, "Actually, I need you back in Raykez, to keep an eye on things there."

Ranie said, "And Quenton needs to help Renaurd with the Dodelige. There is still some preparation work to do before we reveal the Ring." She touched the Ring of Uncreation gently.

Evan said, "Okay, I didn't really want to be an engineer, anyway."

Visor looked to Finnur. "The Virtuosa will need a medical officer. And we'll need a neurobiologist."

"Well, I don't know how much of that I can help with. I'll see what I can do. The university can get along without me for a semester. I'll need to notify the wife."

"It's a big enough ship if she wants to join you."

"Oh, I doubt that will be a consideration. She's not a fan of water. Thanks, though—I'll ask."

Ranie said, "We need a dock. With a warehouse. And cranes. And a forge, or exclusive contract with a forge. And a staff of at least twenty ... five, with at least a few vardal, and an alfanar."

Finnur said, "Then we're talking months, overall—weeks just to get the contracts in place."

Visor said, "There may be a way to short cut that. The Com is going to be under investigation. I'm guessing at least one of the major merchants will have assets seized."

Finnur considered for a time. "I believe merchant Conner has the described infrastructure in his compound."

Ranie said, "Then we start there."

Visor sat back and looked around the table at his friends. "The Mortal Banshee is destroyed and the proxy war is over."

Rapture put her hand on his knee.

Ranie smiled in relief.

Finnur nodded.

Visor said, "Let's get WaterCrescent back."

##### ###

# Thanks

Thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed it, won't you please take a moment to leave me a review at your favorite retailor?

Thanks,

Jonathon Magnus

magmite@gmail.com

<https://www.facebook.com/raptured.mourning>

