A Binding of Echoes Page 2

  "Do you not think they seem quite similar?" She touched where she hid the disk in her jacket.

  "You know I'm a Weaver, not an Abyssist." I couldn't help but glance at the dead man again. "There's only the Abyss boosting disks, and only Abyssists can use them. Or that's what they said in history class."

  "That is correct, but your mother's Weaving has stayed in this world past her death. A trait of Anima magic almost unique to her, except whoever made these disks. Strange, is it not?"

  Stranger, and I certainly wasn't about to tell her this, the charm spoke when I touched it. "Yes, Lady Invoker."

  Kepi bounded to my shoulder and wrapped her tail over the other before I said more.

  I lowered my eyes. The feminine voice from the charm said, 'remember.' That was it. Even with no idea what she referred to, I felt, well, like she asked, not commanded. I often wondered if it was my mother. That was the biggest reason I never spoke about it.

  The clatter of plate armor caught my attention. Mid ranked templars surrounded the Abyssist's body. For now, they were comfortably far from us.

  Kat left them there and came back.

  "Please use your Spirit pendant on the girl again."

  Kat looked at me. "I can't. My previous reading completely discharged it."

  One of Sybil's eyes twitched. "Follow me then, all of you."

  Kat shifted and walked with Sybil around one of the pillars. Kepi and I followed.

  Sybil whispered to Kepi, "It has been what, more than seventeen years since Philomena died."

  Kepi cooed soft and sad from my shoulder.

  I was only a baby then, Kepi bore the weight of seeing my mother die. And worse, she remembered it.

  Sybil reached forward and clasped the charm again. The tendons in her fingers showed through her skin. With her cuff so close to my cheek, a faint smell of flowers floated from her wrist.

  Kepi turned one ear away and sniffed the air.

  Sybil didn't seem to hear the charm speak as I did. No one did.

  "Put the past aside and let me see this, Lady Tempest." She waited.

  Kepi didn't move.

  I tried to keep my face neutral, but my confusion whittled at my resolve to do so.

  "Iltgene." Sybil tightened her lips and lowered her shoulders. The red light of her Form trace only lasted a moment. "I would know Philomena's Anima Attunement anywhere, even though this bares only a shred of it. I cannot tell what else it is."

  It held part of my mother. Then, it was her voice.

  Kat rotated one of her bangles around her wrist.

  Sybil lowered her hand. "It must come back to Pinnacle."

  "To the capital?" Kat crossed her arms but then looked at Sybil suddenly.

  Kepi met my glance and then eyed Sybil, too.

  I said, "I beg your pardon, Lady Invoker, but is the charm like the disks in more than appearance?"

  "We are asking the questions." Sybil grabbed my hand. "Iltgene." The sound passed from her lips and caused a ruby glow between our palms. Numb red light shot into my veins from hers. Pins and needles darted through my chest and exploded within my body.

  In another moment, the light left.

  She let one of her sculpted brows lift and took her hand away. "Kat, send a bird to Conrad, tell him I return but via carriage, not the train, and you are to guard the girl."

  "I am?"

  Sybil pointed to where the templars covered the man's body. "A disk out here, hundreds of miles from the other attacks." She turned her steady gaze on me.

  Kat also looked over and then back. "All right, I'll stay and see about her safety."

  "And to the safety of the school, I remain unconvinced at her innocence."

  I gulped.

  Kat said, "But, you traced her."

  "Some manner of evil corrupted a great woman, something I missed. The same Anima Weaver she shares blood with, the same Apexial on her shoulder." Sybil held her hand out and looked at the necklace.

  Kepi and I both didn't move again. Instead, I nearly gnawed my lip. I shouldn't panic. After all, Sybil just traced me and the charm and wasn't about to arrest me.

  "The charm will come back to the High City one way or another, I am afraid." She kept her hand out. The was a small shake in her fingers.

  She might learn of the voice inside the charm. Or worse, that I knew about it. No one let me forget there were consequences — not the matrons at the orphanage or the teachers here. Even the disgust, or at best, the avoidance of everyone else reminded me.

  Hidden behind the pillar, I could no longer see the dead man, but his face stayed in my mind.

  My death wouldn't be from spell sickness, that's for sure.

  And if I outright refused to give her the charm, I knew what Sybil implied: she would take Kepi.

  The worse of the two fates was clear.

  Carefully, I took off Kepi's necklace and gave it to Sybil.

  Even with much to digest, one thought rose above the others. "You two knew my mother."

  "We did," said Kat.

  "At least, we thought so." Sybil looked away. "I will study the charm before my duties take me elsewhere. Perhaps I shall have the truth after all this time." With her attention back on Kepi, she said, "Our paths ever cross, Lady Tempest."

  Kepi cooed, her voice echoed when nothing else had.

  2 - A Chance

  Six Anima existed in three mirrored pairs.

  The sensory pairing of Force and Spirit detected physical and ephemeral, respectively.

  Conduction and Resistance were effectual.

  Conduction sped processes like the body's ability to heal but spent its resources. It increased the speed of any change or caused it where there was none. Whereas Resistance slowed, even halted materials and movement. These qualities lent themselves to a multitude of applications. Resistance allowed for otherwise impossible construction. Conduction fueled travel and gave life to our new technology.

  Still, people regarded Apex and Abyss as most influential. They existed not only as Anima but as Planes beyond our own. Abyssists and Apexists could open pathways to those Planes. This power was in addition to the abilities of Apex's imbuement and Abyss's draining. Yet, in modern times, between laws and spell sickness, summoning had become non-existent.

  Kepi scooped up a drink from her water dish.

  She came to my mother nearly twenty years ago. Summoned creatures never stayed for more than a day, usually.

  But my mother used Weaving in ways never expected. It was the seventh, and strangest, Attunement. All other kinds of invokers could only use their Attuned Anima and its abilities. Weavers touched all six but none of their effects. Instead, we drew filaments of pure Anima and Wove them into seals. These repelled the same Anima or attracted the opposite. So, if I placed a Resistance seal and passed a lit candle through it, the flame would go out. If I let the filaments touch the wax long enough, it would collapse like jelly.

  That would be, of course, if I didn't have my ward and could have used my Attunement.

  Kepi raised her hind foot neck high and stopped. She lowered her ears and her paw.

  "I could make you a new necklace if you like."

  She perked up her ears.

  Someday, I wanted to thank whoever let her see me while I stayed in the orphanage. But, by law, I couldn't go back to the capital city of Pinnacle, even for a visit.

  All because of my mother. Somehow, the thought of her brought about more sadness than anger. "I can't believe that was her voice in the charm." I looked at Kepi. "What did she want me to remember?"

  She sat and wrapped her tail around her paws.

  "I wish you could talk."

  She tilted her head to the left and then the right.

  She probably wished I understood her, too.

  Kepi trotted to the bedroll and pawed around in a few circles before she laid down. She set her head on her front legs and sighed.

  I blew one of her feathers off my desk and almost knocked the rejection lette
r off. If I hadn't checked the mail, would I have avoided this mess?

  I lifted the corner of the scroll but then let go.

  No, a mess of some kind was unavoidable.

  With college out of the question, I placed some small misguided hope in the woman by my door.

  Maybe she would note my good behavior, or, well, I had no idea what I hoped.

  The chair creaked as I stood. More carefully, I peeked out the peephole.

  Kat stood outside my dorm. There were times only a slight shift, or a sigh showed she wasn't a shadow.

  That was the one thing we all appeared to have in common; we sighed every five minutes.

  I stepped away and pulled my coat tighter. "I wonder if I should invite Kat in. It's been two days," I whispered.

  Kepi raised her head.

  Steps sounded outside the door. It wasn't Kat.

  I inched closer and peeked out again.

  An older man, with a little pointed gray and black beard, said, "Good day, Lady Hunter." He wore an Order Vicar uniform, no ropes, and regular clothes in soft muted colors.

  Kat crossed her arms. "Good morning."

  "Thank you, Lady Katonga. He wishes to speak with the girl."

  "What of Sybil?"

  "Our Theocratic Council and the High Lord have sent Lady Durandus on a mission of great importance."

  Kat tightened her arms. "So soon."

  He didn't reply.

  "All right then. I'll escort the girl."

  "He wishes to see her alone."

  Their conversation paused again.

  He added, "In the dean's office by midday bells."

  I don't know what I expected, but it certainly wasn't this.

  He bowed his head ever so slightly and left.

  Kat didn't move right away. She kept her face expressionless, at least the half I saw. Then a rhythmic knock came.

  I purposely waited a few seconds to open the door. "Yes, Lady Hunter?"

  "You can call me Kat as you did with Kepi."

  I held back an embarrassed gasp.

  She smiled. "It's all right. Did you happen to hear you have a meeting?"

  "I did."

  Her smile didn't fade. "Good then, go straight to the dean's, take Kepi."

  I almost felt comfortable enough to ask questions. Almost. Instead, I turned and scooped up Kepi.

  "Be quick; it's nearly midday." She touched my shoulder.

  I flinched as usual but then relaxed.

  "I'll be around."

  I nodded and did as she said. This trip took me out of the dorms and into the campus.

  Many low ranked templars guarded each gate and building door. Each was a dangerously bored metal gargoyle hungry for one breath in the wrong direction.

  I always kept to the far sidewalks — a habit which took me past the small two-door music building.

  Each Order campus offered classes in voice and different instruments.

  Once, I considered asking to join the choir, but it wasn't for me.

  I caught myself in a standstill and hurried toward the main building.

  The dean's office waited on the top floor.

  Curious glances raised inside the lobby, but the vicars continued to work on the far side.

  A new face behind the reception desk lifted a paper and gestured to the staircase. "This student has clearance." He then set it down just as fast.

  Muffled grunts and shrugs met his half-hearted decree.

  I hurried to the stairs.

  After five floors, I walked down a wood-paneled hall toward a matched heavy door. A brass plate told everyone the dean owned this office, but someone else waited inside.

  I bit my lip.

  The Vicar said a 'he' waited.

  Kepi crawled from my shoulder and stood beside my boot. She wiggled her ears and looked up.

  I glanced back down the hall.

  Nothing.

  The midday bells rang outside.

  As I raised my hand to knock, the door opened.

  Behind it stood a rotund man about a half hand taller than me. He wore a black double-breasted long coat complete with epaulets piled with silver ropes. Long gray twists of hair accented his dark skin and matched his beard.

  I lowered my eyes.

  A set of spats with gold buttons adorned his feet.

  Boot covers like those were so out of style.

  "Meredith?"

  I blinked free from his spats and looked him in the eye. Dark, but they pierced. "Y-yes. I've come—"

  "I know why you are here." He motioned inside. "I called for you, after all." He looked around the hallway. "I trust that Kat has treated you well."

  "She has." I stepped into the otherwise unoccupied, dim office.

  A pointed brim hat sat on the desk.

  I glanced out the side of my eye and caught a sliver of the Silver Rays on his back — another hunter.

  A kaleidoscope of colors cast by a round stained glass window decorated the wood floor. I stepped toward it, around the bare guest chairs, and away from the Hunter, but this move cut me off from the door.

  Candles in brass holders on the desktop and nearby shelves lit the area with a dusty orange glow. A musty pipe smell circled a large dark wood desk with only a matchbox and a half-filled ashtray. A plush burgundy leather chair completed the standard setup.

  He narrowed his eyes.

  Kepi cooed from behind him.

  He turned around and bowed his head. "So, there you are, Lady Tempest."

  Her black eyes fixed on him like a hawk who watched a mouse.

  "Please, come in, and I'll explain." He bowed deeper and closed his eyes.

  Kat and Sybil treated her with similar respect. All of them used her official title. No one else addressed her as such. Her loyalty to my mother's bloodline made most people weary, Apexial, or not.

  She stepped in with no hurry and climbed up on the desk.

  The Hunter shut the door and locked it. With a deep breath, he reached into his coat and pulled out a small silk bag. From it, he took out the pom-pom necklace.

  He came closer, and a glint of white sparked within the poms.

  He stopped in his tracks. "You see, we wondered if this charm showed evidence Philomena understood the disks." He raised a bushy brow. "Or at least would have let us read her notes."

  I couldn't help but squint a little.

  "The Order has covered up that Philomena locked away part of the High Hall with a complex Woven seal, her office, namely. After Sybil traced this," he raised the necklace, "she thought it might have allowed us in."

  Of course, I never knew about her sealing her office before. "But it didn't work?"

  "No. In fact, the charm no longer held a hint of your mother at all." He smiled, more to himself than anything. "Perhaps none of us knew her well enough."

  "How could it have changed?" I said.

  Kepi flicked one ear.

  "The imbuement, or whatever caused part of your mother's Attunement to show in it, could have simply worn out." He looked at me.

  I folded my hands and peered down at them.

  He chuckled ever so quietly. "Let me show you something." He pooled the poms over the charm in his palm. One by one, he snuffed the candles until only the light from the window colored the room. "Did you notice anything when I pulled it from the bag?" He walked toward the door again, the farthest away from where I stood.

  "Well, the charm caught the light."

  "Did it?" He extended his arm and let the necklace dangle from his fingers. One silent step at a time, he came near.

  An arm's length away, it sparked again like a tiny star.

  The window's cast light fell behind me, not over the charm.

  He pulled it back, and this time guarded it with his hand like one would a candle. The spark came again as he moved it forward. White like any sparkle of light.

  "I've never noticed that," I said. "Is it reacting to Kepi?"

  As if to make his point, he circled the desk and hel
d it forward again. This time in the colored streams of light, and yet it showed white.

  "No. It would seem it dies when not near you." He held it close long enough, the light faded. "I'm not surprised you haven't seen it happen before." He placed the necklace back around Kepi's neck. "She's never far from you."

  She cooed her typical songbird pitch and spun in a circle.

  He grinned. "We are slow to catch up, Lady Tempest. I've never seen an imbuement work in such a fashion. Triggered by proximity, and not an invocation trigger word." He took the matchbox and relit the desk candles. "Meredith?"

  "Yes, Lord Hunter?"

  He sat in a guest chair. "I'll ask you something I asked thirteen years ago when you were a pup. Five, I think." He chuckled a little. "What do you remember about your mother?"

  Like an old dream, a memory from the orphanage returned. Occasionally the Order's upper ranks stopped by and questioned us. On rare occasions, the top of one of the Arms came.

  "You're the High Hunter." I couldn't stop my eyes from going wide.

  He straightened out his sleeve and cuff buttons. "That's my title. My name is Conrad Nardovino."

  "I. Your question, I remember nothing, Lord High Hunter. Of my mother." Absently, I put one hand on the desk edge.

  "You can sit if you like."

  The dean's chair caught me.

  "You were a baby when she died." He leaned back and folded his hands on his belly.

  Although intimidated as all Abyss, I didn't fear him as much as I should. "Lord High Hunter, sir, if I might ask a question."

  "Only if you agree to stop calling me by my title."

  "Sir."

  He held up a finger. "'Conrad' will do."

  "Um, well, why my mother's office? I mean, why now? The attacks?"

  His beard didn't hide the curl of the corner of his mouth. "It isn't as if we haven't tried before. Let me explain about the Abyss attacks in the capital. At first, they were small, no summons, and no lives lost. Since then, they've turned more and more gruesome, as I'm sure you've seen in the papers."

  I nodded.

  He took his turn to nod. "And like before the last war, disks have popped up again. Sybil says they are the same ones as then. The implication is unnerving, to say the least, and some object to such a claim."