“Viky, welcome. I am so pleased you've come to visit me. Do you have any news?” Isobeel gestured for Viky to enter.
“No, but I thought you might want a progress report.” It was an excuse. Viky wanted to see if Isobeel could be eliminated from her list of suspects and discreet inquiries had revealed this was the time women of Hunnaal expected visitors to drop by.
Wafts of delicious fragrance teased Viky’s nose. Warm floral blushes with a hint of aniseed and perhaps bergamot. Isobeel wore the expression of an excited child and once seated gave Viky her full attention.
“I'm going to go through everyone, offering possible motives. It seems like everybody would have had opportunity, but to start with, if you had stolen something how would have you done it?”
Isobeel didn’t baulk at the question. “How exciting, I've never imagined committing a crime, what would I do?”
She closed eyes. The process of thinking while involving visual stimulation evidently too much.
“I think I would have to involve Jess, or another of my sisters. To act as a lookout, while I sneaked into, whatever place I was stealing from. Committing a crime on you own doesn’t sound like much fun, I would have to scheme with someone. Or better still, I could be the lookout, and get someone else to do the actual stealing for me. That way if the theft is ever discovered I could say I didn't steal the item and be speaking the truth. It would be thrilling if my accomplices had the power of Invisibility, you would have a much higher chance of getting away with it then. I don’t know anyone in Chruciaal with Invisibility, so that’s a bit of a pain. Although I have been told lifting heavy items is problematic when Invisible, so it would only work if you were stealing something small.”
Isobeel open her eyes with a self-satisfied beguiling smile.
“That's quite clever.” Viky conceded. “Yes, I can do clever, it's just not often required. It's not necessary now, I don't want to steal anybody else's body chains, I just want mine back.”
“What about using your cleverness to get your own body chains back?”
“Well, I did try that, I thought of rounding everyone up and getting Jess to see if anyone lied. But there are all sorts of cleverness; mine is being able to get the right people to do the needed jobs. Do you know anybody with invisibility?”
“No, I have heard it's like Phasing and Healing, not often inherited.”
Viky knew there were variables but wasn’t about to explain the details to Isobeel. The longer a man wore a fractal the bigger it grew, increasing his own power and the potential he passed on to any offspring. Women inherited fractal power, but lacking training the power didn’t increase at the same rate as men. Women’s powers could lay dormant, unknown even to herself, only activating in times of dire need or extreme stress. Because fractal powers were dangerous this could result in injury or even death to herself. It was one of the reasons women were not supposed to engage in dangerous or upsetting activities. The training of women was not encouraged in most cultures, and outlawed under Coalition law. Logically children had a greater chance of inheriting any power if both parentals possessed at least one power from the same colour family.
“That’s a pity, I wonder if it was somebody with Invisibility who stole my body chains?” Isobeel frowned.
“That thought had crossed my mind, and I haven’t figured out how we can proceed if that is the case.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out. That’s why we asked you to help.”
“I thought it was because of my stunning looks and brilliant personality,” Viky grinned back.
“On no,” Isobeel’s burnt orange and golden curls tumbled as she shook her head. “We never thought that.”
Viky let the comment pass. “Can you think of any circumstance under which you would be inclined to steal the body chains for yourself?”
“Steal them from myself, for myself? That’s preposterous?”
“Not necessarily, for example if you don't have a second daughter, who would get the chains? If you wanted to keep them for yourself, you could claim they were stolen and then not be forced to pass them over.”
Isobeel laughed. It wasn't a lady like twitter but genuine mirth.
“It doesn't work like that. Once Rohaan and I have two sons, I will bond another man, have another couple of sons and will repeat the process for as long it takes me to get a second daughter.”
“You're very confident.”
“No reason why I shouldn't be, it's worked since the Coalition made the rule limiting the number of sons a man was allowed. And Viky you will have to do something about masking that look of horror on your face. One eighth of the people you meet in Chruciaal will be from Hunnaal and have a similar mindset. You’re going to have to get used to it.” Isobeel grinned, clearly amused.
Viky was unsure how to take this unsolicited advice, so she plunged on with her inquiries. “OK, that specific reason isn't valid, but is there anything else that would make it favourable for you to have the body chains disappear?”
Isobeel considered the question while shaking her head. Then whispered a reply. “There has been a set reported missing, one of mom's friends. Before I was born, but not in ancient history. It's talked about in hushed voices, a lot of shame for the whole family. It's one of the reasons why it's important to find mine. If I have lost them, it’s not just me, my whole family will suffer disgrace and lose standing in our community. There is nothing I would do to make them disappear.”
A rotation ago Viky would have trusted Isobeel, her words smacked of sincerity. But hard experience had revealed how deceitful people were. How you could never know what someone else was thinking.
“Hello, can I come in?” Jess called from the door.
“Of course, welcome.” Isobeel answered.
Jess unfortunately was not alone. She had Isobeel's little girl on her hip and Hannaraay by the hand. At least until they entered the reception room, then Hannaraay disentangled from her mother, streaked across the floor to a basket full of soft toys, and started randomly throwing them behind her. Jess settled Isobeel’s little girl and Viky found herself hoping someone would mention the child's name, she really should have known it.
“Great to see you Viky.” The sombre looking arrangement of Jesses features lifted into an engaging smile.
“Jess, would you be a dear and fetch us all some tea please?”
Jess nodded. “You want yours sweetened with syrup?”
“Of course.”
“How do you like yours Viky?” Jess asked.
Viky had never had tea, didn’t know what choices were available, and had never been served. Should she offer to help? And what was wrong with Isobeel’s legs that was preventing the woman from getting her own drink? Even Dereniik with only one arm and one leg made a valiant attempt to secure his own food. Isobeel had walked to the door to great her. As the debate played out in her mind Jess noted her confusion.
“I’ll make yours the usual way.” Jess smiled and left the room.
Viky shifted her attention to Isobeel, plunging back into the conversation. Any heartbeat Jesses daughter might start acting up and rational conversation would become exponentially more difficult, if not impossible.
“These are the potential motives I've been able to uncover within the sisterhood. Maddie loves beautiful things and admires your body chains. However, she already has so many items herself, more than she could possibly poke a stick, so although she has a motive and opportunity, she is neither established as a suspect nor can she be eliminated. Jess has a keen thirst for historical knowledge and loves antiquity. However, she also feels strongly about tradition and hereditary ownership, alone this cannot establish her as a suspect, but it does mean she cannot be excluded. Tushii is clever enough to have orchestrated the crime, but I don't really have a motive. For some reason she thought we were leaving Chruciaal last month, maybe when I discover the reason behind that, I will know more. Sheeli and Shaar have the strongest motives. Sheeli wanted to copy the pattern and Shaar I believe would protect her sister with her life. But that doesn't mean either of them are thieves, in fact after talking to them I doubt it. But that's just my opinion, not based on evidence. Gabreel doesn't like me. She would like to think I am the thief but that doesn't make her guilty either. Apart from yourself, that only leaves River. She's invited me over but isn't often home. Sorry I haven't got any more than that now, but I'm not giving up and hopefully by next time I visit there will be more information.”
Jess came back into the room with a tray ladened with a large pot and several mugs, found small impractical side tables and distributed the drinks. Viky wondered if Isobeel wanted to talk about her investigation in front of Jess. Hannaraay jumped up and demanded her mother give her a mug of tea and Viky knew the morning was going to end with someone in tears.
“Thank you so much for your efforts.” Isobeel addressing Jess she continued, “Viky’s been looking into finding out who stole the body chains, no luck so far.” She sighed dramatically.
“Hello Isobeel, are you at home dear?”
Isobeel, Viky and Jess exchanged glances.
Isobeel called for Lady Briziit to enter. Hannaraay flung the mug she had been given into the pile of toys, Isobeel’s daughter gave a startled sob as the remaining liquid splashed over the stuffed Flitter she had selected to chew. A heartbeat later Hannaraay catapulted herself into Jess’s lap.
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“Greetings dear one, and Lady Jessaraay and Lady La’navikyya, what a divine pleasure to see you all. Especially you Viky, looking very well, blooming in fact. I'm not used to seeing you without a book in front of your face, it's a vast improvement.” Lady Briziit graced them all with the appropriate hand signals and a beguiling smile.
“You're not used to seeing me at all but thank you.” Viky smiled.
“Would you like refreshments? We are sharing a pot of tea.” Jess offered.
“Thank you, dear girl, I would like it sweetened with sugar, and a little cardamom and cinnamon please.” Lady Briziit waved a languid hand as she was gestured to recline.
Viky watched Jess' face become flustered and guessed she didn't have at least one of the ingredients.
Isobeel gracefully extended her own hand and placed it on the older woman’s arm, murmuring conspiratorially. “Oh, Lady Briziit how positively archaic, we are having ours laced with syrup, my mother wrote and told me it’s all the rage among the elite of Hunnaal just now. Positively decadent, I think, won’t you indulge with us?”
“Of course, dear. I didn't mention it, not wanting to put you under any pressure as syrup can be difficult come by at this time of the rotation, but as you have offered, that would be delightful.” She twittered as Jess accompanied by Hannaraay left the room.
Viky narrowed her brow’s, Lady Briziit had lied. Bright Storms and the following month of Bourgeon Storms were the most favourable times for collecting syrup. Sap ran freely and the trees had plenty of months to form calluses over the scars made during the extraction process before the months of Fire forced them into suspended animation. Isobeel may have also been lying about receiving information from her mother, but Viky caught the older woman's eye and held it in a calculated stare.
Lady Briziit held her gaze for a few heartbeats then flinched and looked away, brushing a strand of grey lilac hair from her forehead.
“Anything wrong Viky? Isobeel asked.
Viky felt her neck warm with a rush of blood. Wasn’t sure it was worth making a big deal over.
“It’s not important,” She shrugged watching Lady Briziit’s features relax.
“You were staring at Lady Briziit.” Isobeel insisted.
“Maybe I like the view? But Lady Briziit’s can tell you herself if she likes.” Viky shrugged, then sat straighter, annoyed for letting the woman get on her nerves.
The older woman shot Viky a calculating look, before relaxing with a twitter. “I may have overstated my knowledge of Hunnaal high society a little, just making small talk my dear.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that, Viky isn’t up with social etiquette, but is surprisingly clever, honest, and observant. It makes her refreshing company to have around.” Isobeel responded adding a substantial dollop of runny syrup into her mug of golden liquid.
“You know I am right here.”
Isobeel graced her with a beautiful smile. “At least I don't talk about my friends behind their back.”
Viky felt the corner of her mouth involuntarily curl up. So, they were friends now?
Jess returned with another mug and a subdued daughter. Hannaraay kept well clear of Lady Briziit as she was served, and appreciative remarks and small talk were made. Viky was thinking of a way to extricate herself from the situation as she sipped the offered beverage. It was surprisingly good, a little sweet, didn’t need so much syrup, but from the little she knew of Isobeel, the woman didn’t do things by halves.
“I am going to miss our afternoons together. Have you heard of your departure date yet?” Lady Briziit asked.
“No, no I don't think we'll be going until after Viky’s baby has arrived.” Isobeel looked to Jess for confirmation.
“It’s true, Tushii and I looked it up. All Teams say in the capital until everyone has a daughter.”
“How long is that dear?” Lady Briziit asked Viky with an aloof air of polite insouciance.
“In about five months.” Viky said, why ask a question if you were not interested in the answer?
“I think we'll possibly be here all of this rotation.” Jess added. “Viky won't be able to travel for at least six weeks after delivery and by then the Assaults will have started. Last rotation the Coalition was very cautious about women travelling during the months of Assaults. There were four teams that stayed on with us last rotation and didn’t leave until Calm Winds.” Jess supplied.
“Yes, there had always been a few teams that stay the full rotation, but to stay two rotations without being permanently assigned to Chruciaal is unusual.” Lady Briziit said.
“You seem quite keen for us to be gone. Any reason?” Viky asked.
Lady Briziit contemplated the question before smiling and giving an answer. “Just genuine concern, my dear.”
“Thank you for your concern, you've always shown a lot of interest in us. I understand because the women of the contribution are here for such a short time most of the of the other Ladies who live in Chruciaal never bother about getting to know us. But you and your daughters have made our time here much more interesting, and I thank you for that.” Jess said with a smile.
“I wonder if you would keep a secret with us. I think we could use your help.” Isobeel tapped a finger on the side of her face.
Viky realized she must have made a protesting sound or at least pulled a face indicating her appal.
“Oh, I love a good secret,” Lady Briziit simpered, disregarding Viky. “Of course, I will faithfully keep it, and I'd love to help.”
“You don’t think I should tell?” Isobeel asked Viky.
Viky felt the heat rising in her neck. Storm blast, Isobeel was a fool. She just said her family would be disgraced once it was discovered the chains were missing. Didn't she understand the more people that knew, the less chance they had of keeping it secret?
“No, I don’t think it is wise to say anything more.”
“My dear girl,” Lady Briziit’s voice dripped with condescension. “I have been a friend of Lady Isobeel far longer than you have. My advanced rotations give me a broader perspective and greater base of knowledge with which to offer her assistance. Our mothers were friends you know, she trusts me, we're practically family.”
Viky shrugged; it was up to Isobeel. Viky didn't trust Lady Briziit, but she didn't trust anyone, and had not eliminated Jess, or even Isobeel, and Lady Briziit and her daughters were frequent visitors to the enclave. They had always been on her suspect list. Asking her about the body chains, with Jess present, could eliminate or confirm her as a possibility.
Isobeel came to a decision, and explained about her missing possessions.
“This is certainly very serious and agree this is not a situation to be left in the hands of men. I also understand your reticence in taking it to the Godmothers. Once either of those parties are involved the news will spread like Wildfire, and whatever the outcome your family will lose status.”
Lady Briziit was clearly upset by the news; she drummed her fingers against the mug she clasped between unusually white hands.
“Hypothetically, if you're going to steal an item, say Isobeel’s body chains, how would you go about doing it?” Viky asked.
“I can assure you, I wouldn't. Taking something that recognizable, valuable, and unique would be the height of stupidity. Disposing of it would be a nightmare and while it was in your possession you would be in grave danger of discovery. No matter how desperate I was for sequin, nothing would convince me it would be worth stealing body chains. There are too many people in the city with variations of Reading talents, and blue Cognition fractals.”
“So, you didn't steal my body chains?” Isobeel asked.
“Absolutely not. I promise you by God's light and everything that's good, I did not steal them.”
Lady Briziit looked Viky square in the face, almost challenging her to disagree. Viky shrugged, caught sight of Jess giving her head the slightest nod confirmation the woman was telling the truth. Such a convincing performance, one even Viky would have had difficulty not believing, was evidently not a performance. At last, her first suspect was eliminated. Viky looked forward to finding a quiet moment to at last cross someone off her list.
***
It was the mother of all Bright Storms. Afternoon had given way to dusk, and Dereniik pressed his back against the cliff face, eyes screwed shut. A drum, pounding in his ears joined thunder overhead to roll into a majestic symphony of sound and low vibrations just out of audible range. The highly charged atmosphere and raging storm were not of concern, but being outside, within sight of the forest, had triggered uncontrollable waves of mindless terror. He couldn’t even create order by running fingers through his static filled hair. Or brush the water from his eyes as the thick mists condensed and streamed down his face. It was enough just to remain standing and forced himself to breathe.
Above, on the perimeter wall, he heard the Guard complete a circuit and with brisk steps start back to their sheltered station. One of the Guards cursed as an updraft caught a squall, and blasted them with gushing water.
Through his eyelids lightning flickered, patterns of light and colour alternating with blended shadows. Bright Storms passed with speed, there was something in them, or perhaps the accompanying rain, that stimulated all foliage growth and facilitated some plant and animal reproduction. Not that the forest was ever stingy providing foliage and fodder. Keeping living things from encroaching on mankind's settlements was a constant chore requiring diligent effort. Even this ledge surrounded with a substantial stone parapet had been invaded by a slender vine growth and the inevitable moss and mold. Life, taking hold of the tiny fissures between the worked stone boulders, colonizing, pushing upward and onward, surviving, thriving.
Soon the God’s tears would cease, clouds parting so Gods Eyes would once again shine from a fresh shimmering aurora. It was not cold now, but the temperature and humidity would steadily rise. Steam rising would replace falling rain, causing the same effect but reversed. God’s Fire, the cold blue ever-present shimmering flames were further aroused in Bright Storm. Growing into masses and sheets of crackling, spitting forks brighter than lighting. Rising steam would cluster into clouds again, becoming larger masses, and the cycled repeating.
Sheet lightning rent the sky and Dereniik’s eyelids saw white, and the wall vibrating in time with the simultaneous thunder. Throughout the nine realms humans lived underground. But continuous subterranean dwelling had negative effects on a person's health. Dereniik had been physically unable to make it outside for many months, and if he was being honest with himself, lacked the motivation. But determined to do everything in his power to take advantage of changed circumstances, it was time to face and overcome his irrational fears.
Forcing eyes open took all the courage he possessed.
The forest spread below him in all its malevolent apathy. Not a manicured park with paths and evenly spaced trees, but a chaotic tangle of intertwining layers of growth. Women called it the Evergreen, a complete misnomer, for five months of the year the forest burned. Vegetation cast seeds, wrapped themselves in protective chrysalis or morphed into often unrecognizable versions of themselves resistant to fire. But for the remaining twenty-one months the forest was clothed in nine myriad variations of green, and the woman’s monicker was appropriate.
Flocks of small Triil in full flight spiraled through tangles of God's fire. Their high-pitched voices drowned by the storm’s fury.
Dereniik’s world imploded, all his highly attuned senses engaging. The rain felt crimson, bright, wet, and rang to the sounds of trauma and loss. A cycle of ever repeating futility in his ears. God's fire blue and lightning white, fusing together. Becoming more than the sum of their parts and drilling into Dereniik’s fragile psyche. A pungent dank odour of decaying vegetation caught by a gust of wind was flung in his direction. He hated the smell. It caught the back of his throat, reminding him of death and all things rotten. The sweet and salty tang, a giveaway he'd bitten the inside of his mouth, annoyed him. With a gulp it was swallowed, only to fill his mouth again. The ground beneath felt unstable, trembling, his one knee shook, and a crutch clattered to the ground.
Not in pain, but with sense of letting go, being swamped, he fought. The internal battle raged while his heartbeat wildly and mind lost control. Muscle spasmed, callous and silent, but Dereniik could no longer feel his arm and leg or even the hard wall behind him. Everything shrank, he lost touch with his senses, one by one, until all that remained was the bubble in his throat, and a heartbeat. Maybe not even his own. A gasping breath erupted. The mind unsure of what it was doing, reflexes and instinct, all that was left.
He swallowed again; the lump of fear didn't shift. He wasn't aware of the passage of time, but somehow, eventually it passed.
Tears came. Streaming down his cheeks to land on his cowl, already sodden from the rain. He swallowed hard. Exhausted and mentally battered, the next breath was easier. Emotions pulled so taut the possibility of them returning to their former state questionable. Leaving him bitter and broken forever.
No. He couldn't accept that.
He was broken, but he wasn’t going to be bitter. He could hate himself, for surviving when so many others died, for his limitations, for not being strong enough, good enough, but he would not hate other people.
There wasn't much of him left, his options limited, but there was that. Life was hard, but he wasn’t going to make it harder for others. He could at least do that for a little longer.