Chapter 56: Resonance (Patreon)

Elliot opened his mouth to reply, but it was several seconds before anything came out. “What?”

I RETREATED TO THIS PLACE TO REST, TO HEAL, AND TO BIND THE SPEAR.

“Oh,” he said weakly.

NOW I AM WOKEN BEFORE-TIME. THE BINDINGS MUST NOT LIKEWISE BREAK. YOU MUST ENSURE WHATEVER THREATENS THE PILLARS IS STOPPED. THE DARK SPEAR WAS MADE FOR THE GREAT WAR. IT IS NOT MEANT FOR THE SURFACE OF ANY WORLD.

“The Great War?” Elliot breathed. “You don’t mean…in the chaos clouds? With the golden lights?”

WHATEVER YOU HAVE DONE, STOP. IF OTHERS SEEK THIS OUTCOME, STOP THEM. IF MY BONDS ARE LOOSED, THE WORLD WILL BE POISONED. GREAT PAIN WILL COME, WITH CONSEQUENCES BEYOND THIS PLACE THAT YOU CANNOT EVEN IMAGINE.

“God damn it,” Elliot hissed. Why are things always getting worse? “You recognized the name of my skill last time; what does Niamh mean?”

DO NOT SEEK ANSWERS FROM ME, CHILD. YOU ARE TOLERATED HERE, NO MORE.

“You know, I didn’t ask for any of this,” Elliot said, stress and weariness hanging over his mind like a dense fog. “In the past few months my home was destroyed, my sister was sent far enough away that she might as well be on another world, the city I was staying in was attacked, and I was kidnapped. I tried to do a simple, low-level warren, and instead I got stuck with a mark connecting me to some kind of zenith being, and I said your name once and was almost murdered by a Fury. I don't mean any offense, sir or ma'am, or whatever your title is, but I don't get what I did wrong. I don't think I should have been able to guess that inspecting you in a dream would do anything to your bonds."

IF I WERE FREE, YOU WOULD NEVER DARE SUCH INSOLENCE.

“No insolence intended, but to be honest, it seems like you want very much not to be free.” Elliot said, crossing his arms. “And it seems like you need me to stop the people trying to free you. So maybe a little more give and take would be appropriate here."

For a few moments, there was silence.

WE ARE ALL RESPONSIBLE FOR OUR ACTIONS, REGARDLESS OF INTENT. YOUR ABILITY DESTABILIZED MY REST, AND THUS MY HEALING.

Elliot squeezed his eyes closed. Maybe if he just tried really, really hard, he would wake up back on Earth, and the last few months would have all been a dream.

THOUGH THERE IS SOME TRUTH TO WHAT YOU SAY. THE FACT THAT YOU COULD WAKE ME IS IMPLAUSIBLE. PERHAPS IMPOSSIBLE TO FORESEE.

Elliot looked up.

YOU BEAR MY SIGIL. IN ANOTHER AGE, THAT WOULD HAVE MADE YOU MY CHOSEN DISCIPLE. IN THAT SPIRIT, I GRANT YOU THIS ADVICE. DO NOT MAKE EXCUSES. ACT. PREVENT MY RELEASE. IF YOU BLOCK THE ACTIONS OF THOSE SEEKING TO BREAK THE PILLARS, THEN THE REMAINDER IS WITHOUT SEVERE CONSEQUENCE.

“Is there any way you can help me? Give me energy, or ethera, or whatever? I’m currently in a prison guarded by some very powerful people, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to stop them. Even if I don’t help at all, or try to mislead them, they may just give up on me as an option and go back to performing blood sacrifices until they find a way through.”

I CAN ONLY OFFER LIMITED INFORMATION. I CANNOT PERCEIVE THE WORLD AS I AM. WHEN YOU STOLE POWER FROM ME, YOU TOOK ADVANTAGE OF THE PRIVILEGES OF THE SIGIL UNBOUND BY RESTRAINTS THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN IN PLACE WERE I AWAKE. I WILL ALLOW NO MORE TRANSFERS OF ENERGY, AS IT WOULD CATASTROPHICALLY WORSEN THE DESTABILIZATION OF MY PRISON. IF THOSE WHO SET THEIR SIGHTS ON MY FREEDOM ACT AS I SUSPECT THEY MUST, THERE WILL BE INSTRUMENTS PLACED BY EACH PILLAR MADE COMPLETELY OF GLASS. I DO NOT KNOW WHAT SHAPE OR SIZE THEY WILL BE. THEY WILL BE FRAGILE. IF YOU CAN DESTROY THEM, IT WILL DELAY THE PROCESS GREATLY. THE MORE DESTROYED, THE GREATER THE DELAY. YOU WILL NOT BE ABLE TO HIDE YOUR ACTIONS, HOWEVER. THEIR DESTRUCTION WILL CREATE ETHEREAL CHAOS. IT WILL BE AS A BONFIRE TO THOSE WHO CAN SEE.

“For some reason I can’t talk about the mark since it changed. Can you make that go away?”

AN UNINTENDED CONSEQUENCE OF BONDING WHILE I WAS UNAWARE, MEANT TO PROTECT SECRETS YOU HAVE NOT BEEN OFFERED. I WILL RELEASE YOU FROM THE ONUS.

Elliot let out a small sigh. At least, if he survived, he could talk to Breka.

YOU MUST BEGIN.

“Well it’s nighttime, or at least it’s when we sleep, which is not necessarily the same thing this deep underground, but—”

Then there was a flicker, and Elliot’s eyes snapped open, back in the cell. Yolena and Sasha were both asleep, the white light from the corridor dim.

Well. I suppose it’s fairly impressive that this could become any more of a disaster.

***

After another few hours of fitful sleep Elliot was escorted back to the Rose Room, where Speaker was sitting at the small table drinking tea. Today his cup was black, with small yellow eyes painted on the smooth ceramic.

“Good morning, Elliot.”

“Good morning.” He had thought about his approach, and ended up deciding to start with complete cooperation, unless it seemed like Speaker was on the brink of success. There would be no risk of being found out, he’d have a chance to study the methods being used, and he could potentially learn the other Talessi language.

Also, when he’d considered open rebellion from the start, there hadn’t been many options that came to mind not ending in a quick death for him and the other prisoners.

“Please, have some breakfast,” Speaker said, waving his cup at a plate across from him.

Elliot’s mouth started to water. The prisoners had been offered a simple mash composed of blended vegetables, meat, and oats, but this was the first time he’d seen real food in days. Eggs, bread, cheese, and some kind of meat were laid out in generous proportions. He sat and dug in.

It tasted as good as it looked. Speaker waited for him to devour the first third of his meal before speaking.

“Fundamentally, the barrier is composed of four pillars arranged in a square around the Titan, spaced roughly fifteen hundred feet apart. They generate a containment field that is spherical rather than cubic, and resists any attempt at incursion. There are two avenues of approach we have identified.”

He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and slid it over to Elliot. “The energies in play don’t make sense if generated purely from the four pillars. There’s an unaccounted-for variance in the flow of ethera. A separate nexus must exist, somehow hidden. We believe it might prove to be a vulnerability, hence the need for deception.”

“However,” he continued, raising an eyebrow as Elliot tore through the loaf of bread, “vulnerability may be a distinction without a difference in this case, as what a Titan considers weakness could, to us, be as impassable as their forward-facing defenses. So, an alternative option is a resonance cascade.”

Here he pointed down at the paper on the table, covered in arcane glyphs. “You don’t need to understand the details, but the idea is to create spell constructs that operate at a perfectly antithetical frequency to the pillars, then sustain them as powerfully as possible for as long as possible. Success would depend almost entirely on our degree of accuracy when judging the harmonics. To achieve the level of precision required to impact such a powerful barrier is theoretically quite close to impossible, but I believe we can use your connection to help with that.”

“Am I expected to be useful in finding the nexus thing, or only for the…resonance thing?”

“I believe the resonance cascade has more promise, and we will begin there. I have no knowledge of what a sigil truly entails, only that it represents a bridge to the Titan. We will need to experiment. Carefully.”

“You will need to experiment quickly. At least if you truly wish the sacrifices to stop. The Elders want to know what you say to placate the boy, and what you mean.” A man walked through the door, clad in a simple black tunic. He wore a pair of large, dark-rimmed glasses.

Elliot sucked in a breath. The glasses had tiny silver runes darting across the surfaces of both lenses, and the man’s eyes were a milky white behind them. Witness.

“Honored Det,” Speaker replied. “Your presence is as welcome as rain to a wilted garden.”

“And like rain, I offer both succor and hardship, each in its measure. You have not answered the question.”

“Do you speak for the Elders in this matter? That is to say, is it an official question?”

The Witness smiled, a small, sharp curve of the lips. “Must your cooperation be forced? They wonder. Why not satiate their curiosity.”

“I do not intend to allow more sacrifices until I know the depths of the boy’s utility. Never underestimate the importance of immediacy. He may know I caused numerous deaths, but I promise you, it is different for a civilian to listen to the screams of a prisoner being dragged away. He is much more likely to offer his full cooperation as things stand now.”

“I wonder if what you say is true. It is reasonable, but you are a skilled orator, and your artifact is stunning in its efficacy. I find it challenging to read you. You will still not allow it to be studied?”

“I think not,” Speaker said, grinning. “I am not interested in being thoroughly investigated while my barrier is absent.”

“A shame. I think much could be learned.” The Witness turned to look back out into the corridor. “Croi’an soulv duoto. Tershiel.”

Elliot held his breath. That was another language. Surely it was the higher-order Talessi dialect reserved for communication not meant for outsiders. Just keep speaking.

Another guard wrapped in a gray cloak stepping into the room behind Det.

“You have what latitude has already been discussed,” the Witness continued in the language Elliot already knew. “Know that the Elders are not patient in this matter. They see a door to the change they have sought for a century, and the Broken March is starting to wake to it as well. Delays will only be tolerated for so long.”

I have to make him speak. I need that language. Make something up, something confusing. Something they’ll want to discuss. “Hey, Elliot said, pointing as aggressively as possible at the guard who’d just walked into the room. “I recognize you. You were in Tular. I saw you kill a kid with your bare hands, while laughing. You’re a sick bastard.”

The Witness frowned at Elliot, then flicked a glance at the guard, who shook his head.

“Vorstead dono verk doun, del forsh,” the guard said, looking mildly irritated.

Not enough.

“You’re mistaken,” the Witness said, “and rude. Perhaps you’ve come to overestimate your own importance.”

“He's been through quite a week,” Speaker interjected smoothly, “and is no doubt overwrought. You are mistaken, though, Elliot. That is the Witness’ personal guard, who wouldn’t have had any reason to take part in the attack.”

“Oh,” Elliot replied through gritted teeth, “my mistake.”

“Keep him in line,” The Witness said to Speaker, “Or he’ll be missing a hand while assisting with your experiments. How is that for immediacy?”

“It won’t be a problem,” Speaker replied.

“Fan orlios,” the Witness said to the guard. “havaar de—” The words shifted. “—can only resent what he is able to intuit. The child has core flukes buried in his chest, I can sense them. Perhaps I’ll hurry their activation along, if his efforts do not seem promising.”

The gray-cloaked guard laughed. “Gods willing.”

This language was rougher than the first, gravel instead of sand. What the hell are core flukes?

“Have your experiments,” the Witness said, back to the first tongue. “Just remember that outcome is everything. We must not be slaves to theory. If you do not see immediate results, I hope you’ll return to proven methods.”

“Of course,” Speaker replied, “do not confuse my approach for sentimentality. I, too, have been waiting a long time for a path forward.”

With a shallow nod, the Witness turned and walked out of the room, followed by the guard.

“That was uncharacteristic, Elliot,” Speaker said, looking more confused than annoyed. “You seemed both more and less upset than I would have imagined. Perhaps I’ve misjudged you.”

“Oh, I’m full of surprises.” Elliot turned back to the remains of his meal.

Core flukes buried in my chest. The poison?

Something about the term tickled his memory. He knew what flukes were, some kind of worm? A flatworm, yes. A parasitic flatworm. He tensed. Was it not a poison at all, but instead an infection? Could that be why everyone struggled so much to create an antidote, and why the Talessi were so secretive about its nature?

“Do try a bit harder to control yourself, if you interact with Det in the future. He’s not quite impulsive, but he wouldn’t think much of maiming you, that I promise.”

“Understood,” Elliot replied stiffly.

“We will begin experimenting with the resonance cascade, because it will be easier to iterate on. I will use you, or rather your mark, as the target of the sympathy link, and we can adjust the frequency accordingly.”

Speaker rose from the table. “If you are finished, let’s begin.”