Chapter 6 #2
“A dead person. Well. Most of a dead person. Those blades aren’t gloves.
” He pats me on the back reassuringly as he examines the darkening sky.
Unperturbed. Just a fact of life, out here.
“They’re a kind of iunctus, controlled by Ka.
By the Concurrence. There are dozens, maybe hundreds of them.
All connected somehow. Able to share information with one another, instantly and over vast distances. ”
“Gods’ graves.” I shudder, anxiously scanning the horizon myself. “Where does all the Will to imbue them come from?”
“I don’t know for sure, but I suspect from other iunctii.
They can cede—and you can bring them back for less than you gain from their ceding.
Which as I’m sure you can imagine, has absolutely no potential for abuse by Ka.
” He doesn’t give me time to take in the horror of that concept.
“We’re safe to move. Keep covering our tracks, but we don’t need to be too worried: they never sweep the same area within a few hours, and the wind will have erased everything by morning. ”
I don’t respond. Don’t know what I can say, to that. We walk for a while without talking, my mind racing.
“On Solivagus,” I eventually say quietly. “When I asked how I could possibly stop a new Cataclysm, you said I was here to kill a god.” The statement’s been hanging over me, even through the insanity of all this.
“Hyperbole. Sort of.” Caeror leans into his climbing of a dune.
Sand cascades back down behind him where his feet dig in, an almost luminescent white series of waves in the last of dusk.
“Most people here believe Ka is a god. I can’t really blame them given that he’s ruled the cities, controlled every inch of vaguely liveable ground in this world for thousands of years.
Not to mention has complete command of the iunctii.
” He shakes his head wryly. “It wasn’t a leap to realise he must be the Concurrence. ”
I’m quiet for a few steps. The desert is rapidly becoming chilly. The grit that wormed its way inside my clothes while hiding sticks to my cooling sweat, every movement chafing. “You’re saying all of this—the Cataclysms, the way this world is—it’s because of one man?” No hiding my incredulity.
“One man and a lot of dead people, I suspect.” He sees me still struggling with the concept.
“Those ruins you went to on Solivagus. The ones Veridius and I found, with all the iunctii pinned with Instruction Blades?” He taps the obsidian blade on his belt.
“Those people were put in there to become a kind of interconnected machine, built to try and circumvent the security measures on Res that kill anyone who goes through the Gate. And based on what we translated, those measures were put in place by one man. A man who would remain untouchable so long as he alone was present in all three worlds, because it meant he had dominion over Will. Would be the only one who could control it as it had been before the Rending.” He glances at me.
Assessing. “Synchronism, they called it.”
I try to swallow my unease. “I’ve heard that before.
” The darkness is almost complete now; stars have begun to shimmer in the east. “The husks—the iunctii—who had the control bracers for the Labyrinth. They said they were being punished because they attempted to ‘gain synchronism and remove the seal to Obiteum.’” I don’t have to work to dredge up the words.
That eerie mantra is burned into my memory.
“I still don’t know what the last bit means. But, yes. People have been trying to access the Gate for centuries.”
“And I’m the first to succeed?” I know the answer as soon as it’s out of my mouth.
He gives me a look, eyebrows pointedly raised.
I snort. At least he’s not trying to coddle me. “Fine. But you think I have this ability. Synchronism.” I don’t feel any different. “And the plan is for me to … what? Kill someone with it?”
“The plan is to stop Ka, no matter what it takes. Veridius will undoubtedly be trying to do the same to his counterpart in Res—and perhaps if he realises you’ve made it through, the version of you there will end up succeeding before you ever have to do anything here.
But we can affect only what we have in front of us.
If we remove the Concurrence from this world, he is no longer Synchronous in Res.
It stops the Cataclysm. And that is all that matters. ”
I give a soft, bitter laugh. “‘Remove’ him. You make it sound so easy.”
“I know what I’m asking, Vis. I know. But if we’re right, it’s the life of an evil man who has lived millennia past his time. One life, in order to save millions. And you may be the only one who can take it.”
“What if you’re wrong? What if killing this Ka doesn’t stop the Cataclysm?”
“Then we will have saved one world rather than two. You saw the Gleaners. What we had to do to Djedef. Life here is a nightmare, and at worst, we help people finally wake up from it. Give them a chance at something else. Something better.” Caeror glances at me.
Compassionate, firm conviction in his voice.
“I can’t force you. This has to be your decision.
But I do need you to at least hear me out before you make it. Please.”
The last of the sun is gone from the sky. Beneath starlight, I can see the black pyramid of Duat down in the distant valley, an ocean of undulating white in between. I’ve never wanted, let alone planned to kill someone before. I revile the idea. Resist it with every fibre of my being.
But if Caeror is telling the truth—if there’s even a chance that he’s right—then … I don’t know.
I don’t know.
I breathe in the stinging air, and shiver against the abrupt chill of the coming night.
“I’m listening,” I say quietly.