Schisms by James Wolanyk

Author:James Wolanyk
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2018-03-14T20:02:53+00:00

Chapter 12

The Council’s chamber was a beating heart, spastic and smeared in crimson. A thick membrane of weavesilk covered the blasted-out gap, flowing back and forth with the storm’s gusts, swarming with the dim shapes of Azibahli as they continued their work around its edges.

Any veneer of ritual sacredness had been cut away from the darkened space. Now it was teeming with Chayam fighters, pockets of lurid red lantern light, and faces Anna had only conceived in her most rampant nightmares.

Mesar’s body was affixed to the creature’s foremost limb, hovering so his—its—feet barely scraped the stones. The limbs were slack and rubbery. Everything that had given him an aura of strength and a grounded presence had vanished, lost to the oozing, twitching mass that jostled him about like a rag doll. Yet his empty gaze penetrated the gloom, seeping into Anna as she stood before the monstrosity.

“Who ordered him to be taken?” Anna asked.

The Council’s appendages, largely young women, stirred at that. “Your first words in our presence are irreverent,” they spoke in unison. “Your efforts were brave, Kuzalem.”

“Answer me.”

“Such reasoning would escape you, however aware you may be. In spite of your arrogance, we offer you inclusion to enlightenment once more.”

Anna gritted her teeth. “I’m not joining you. Not now, not in eternity.”

“You address us as though we are the same aggregate with which you’ve spoken. We are changed. We are born anew.”

“You’re an abomination.”

“Envision what salvation we could bring to the masses. Look beyond your prison of flesh and sinew.”

“I want him released!”

“You propose an exchange.”

She shook her head. “You shouldn’t even be holding him. Yatrin did nothing wrong.”

“We are aware,” the Council boomed. “We know all, even with half of our lifeblood drawn from its hallowed form. The marks upon the interloper’s neck could only be done by an unpracticed hand. If only you could see, Kuzalem. If only you knew.”

She met Mesar’s eyes, though it felt like a wasted effort. There was nothing left of him within the shell, and yet his essence lingered somewhere in the mass. It had to. “Mesar, what have you done?”

A synchronized laugh spread down the row of appendages. “You grasp for a name that is unfitting for our sovereignty. We are greater than titles.”

“What did he offer you?”

“You speak of him as though he has vanished. To a fixed observer, the construct you term Mesar has been lost to oblivion. Yet we are here. We have always been here, and always shall be.” Mesar’s body drifted closer, its mouth lolling open, sound creaking forth: “We have ensured a thousand years of refuge for the Halshaf.”

Naturally. It was the bargain he’d always sought and the perfect chance to—

“What did you give them in return?” Anna demanded.

“We have glimpsed more of the tapestry of knowledge,” the Council droned. “Mote by mote, ignorance is driven away in the light of revelation.”

“Mesar,” Anna barked, “what did you show them?”

“Such majesty . . . we could not have fathomed the machinations of your Nest. Woven from bountiful hayat, tunneling through the world’s fabric, suspended on the tip of a needle.

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