Incarnation (The Horusian Wars Book 2) by John French

Author:John French [French, John]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2018-07-20T16:00:00+00:00

Ten

The world was black, edge to edge, and so far out that there was no depth to it. Enna turned her head, and then realised that she did not have a head to turn. She did not have a body either, just a viewpoint into black infinity.

She blinked and suddenly she could feel her limbs and skin.

‘Let’s start here, shall we?’

Enna’s gaze snapped around. A woman sat on a white ivory chair, what seemed like a pace away. The blank dark behind and beneath her made her seem like a portrait painted onto black glass. Her hair was copper red, and fell in a long, smooth spill across her left shoulder and down the side of a dress of green silk and black brocade. She smiled, her slim face barely creasing with the expression. There was something familiar about her, but Enna could not remember…

She could not remember anything. She knew her name. She knew who she was, but the rest was just a…

‘Yes,’ said the woman in green, ‘I had to tie off your memories, most of them anyway. Makes life simpler.’ She yawned as though fighting off a sudden wave of tiredness. ‘And… and simplicity is very much what we need in your case.’

‘Who are you?’ asked Enna.

The woman in green laughed dryly.

‘Funny,’ she said, without humour. ‘But then how are you to know. And of course the question is not who I am, but who are you, Enna Gyrid?’

‘I…’

‘Difficult for you to answer that at the moment, of course,’ said the woman in green. She rubbed her fingers over her eyes, and blinked as though to try and shake off another wave of fatigue. ‘I have done as much digging as I can. Killing you might have let me open up a couple of other portions of your consciousness, but only maybe, and as good an idea as death might be, my hands are tied.’

The woman in green’s eyes flicked to a point just over Enna’s shoulder. For the first time since the woman had appeared, Enna was aware of a presence just behind her. She turned her head.

‘No,’ said the woman in green, and the word snapped Enna’s gaze back around as though yanked by a chain. The woman gave a cold smile. ‘Look at me, Enna, just at me.’

Enna nodded, though she was not sure why. For an instant when she had turned her head she had caught sight of a figure in black robes in the corner of her eye, its face hidden in the shadow of its caul.

‘The thing is, Enna, that you are not as simple as you appear, and no I don’t mean to say you are stupid. You memories, your mind, your life, barely belong to you. Believe me that I know what I am talking about when I say that a lot of work has been done to you. Layers of false belief, grafted memories, cut-outs, recollection oubliettes. Your mind is a maze full of secrets and traps, and the chances are that I have barely scratched the surface.

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