Avelina: The Cult of Anick: Book One

20. Chapter Twenty

That night, Linorra had a dream so vivid it hardly seemed like a dream at all. She saw the face of a man in agony.

“Viktor,” she said. “Is that you? Where are you?”

The man’s eyes lit up with hope when he saw her. “It’s me, my love! I’m in Queen Mortier’s dungeon. You must find the key and rescue me!”

For the next two months, I woke up every morning thinking This will be the day Seleca comes to kill us, but Spirit’s daily reports revealed that Seleca struggled to learn how to use her new Precognition fragment. It gave her terrible migraines, and she acted even more insane than usual, ranting about a bearded blond man who haunted her dreams. Everyone feared her. Even Eve kept her distance, disappearing from the palace entirely. Ward said that Seleca’s overuse of Projection probably made her more psychologically vulnerable to the side effects of Precognition use.

I spent most of my time preparing for a fight, leaning on Ward to tutor me in beginning fragment theory. I practiced using my reservoirs and read everything I could get my hands on. Ward was correct that Aaron’s library was extensive. I finished several textbooks, many of which were antique books written before Anick’s rise to power.

Gerhelm Meriweather, one of the more prolific authors, wrote Ward’s new favorite, Ascension: Twelve Worlds, Twelve Bridges, which included information about all twelve fragments and worlds, including Killmount, the theoretical Conjuration planet that had yet to be discovered. Old Gerhelm even ranked the fragments in order of how painful they are to ascend.

I left that book to Ward to focus on my two priorities for battle, healing and shielding, but he relayed the Teleportation basics. Ascension, he reported, is the linking of an individual’s reservoir with a fragment matrix so that a supply of that fragment becomes essentially limitless. This happens through Teleportation over a bridge originating from that world and was exactly what happened to me when Seleca threw me onto the Earth bridge.

Earth sits in a Protection matrix, so that was the fragment that powered the portal. When I traveled over the Protection bridge, I ascended, and the source of that fragment formed a link to me, perhaps in the same way that it links to Earth.

Unfortunately, the process of ascension is unpredictable and possibly fatal to those without Protection. It physically affects a fragmentor’s body such that when they directly tap into a matrix, it causes a bizarre glowing and enables the use of that fragment within a shield. It also “raises” lesser reservoirs, expanding their power to a greater level. This explained my multiple greater reservoirs.

After a few weeks, I moved on to advanced texts that focused on the more nuanced qualities of each fragment. I learned about Connection substrates, which transmit the fragment over distances and include earth and water for those with greater Connection, and air for those with ascendent Connection. With practice, Connection can be used in conjunction with other fragments like Evocation—which meant that if Aaron had ascendant Connection, it actually would be possible for him to throw fire.

The beaded bracelet didn’t solve Aaron’s problems, but it took the edge off. I felt for him on that front. Even my own bit of Evocation, acquired from mixing reservoirs with Aaron, flared up my emotions when I attempted to use it. It gave me a better understanding of his struggle, but it wasn’t that much worse than a bad case of PMS, perhaps because I barely had enough to reach the level of a lesser reservoir. I couldn’t make a log catch fire, but I managed to light the oil lantern. I scorched the tip of my finger, but I did it.

The only break in our daily routine was when Aaron went out to walk the farm. After he watched me push the shield out around both myself and Ward several times, he promptly announced that he needed to search for the oardoo flock. I think he was just stir-crazy and needed alone time. The property was expansive, and Aaron always left before sunrise and came back after dark, reporting that he’d walked around only a portion of Jorin’s farm. He always came back looking refreshed.

I used the time to tend the garden and hang out with Ward, who wasn’t adjusting well to his new life. Though he put on a brave face, making promises to stay and help me, I recognized the signs of depression from my own experience. He was sad but outwardly calm. He was always tired. He did what was expected of him but nothing more. He read all day, barely eating or sleeping. He made no specific commitments regarding the future.

Worst of all, he spoke longingly of what he remembered about being dead. He went across a bridge, he said, or started to. He didn’t remember anything specific about the bridge, only the feeling of wholeness once he stepped upon it. Though he avoided connecting with me, I knew he wanted that peace back more than anything.

He’d lost his home and family. He’d lost his reservoir. Wretched though it was, he’d lost his purpose in life. So, while he didn’t outwardly object to becoming my tutor, it was also a reminder that he no longer had the ability to personally use any of his knowledge. In his mind, Seleca had stolen the thing that gave him value. That wasn’t true, of course. As far as I was concerned, his value had nothing to do with his reservoir.

Seleca had absorbed his reservoir after he fully shifted into Rogue, and it was supposed to be completely gone, but I had seen his skin ripple just before Seleca threw him onto the Earth bridge. What else could that have been, if not traces of Transformation? But even if he had a small bit of Transformation left, the reservoir would be of the lesser variety, and he wouldn’t be able to do anything with it.

Still, I wasn’t convinced all hope was lost. Ward himself taught me that one of the most basic principles of fragment theory is the idea of symmetry. Every fragment has a complement. Protection, a force of order, is the complement of Evocation, a force of disorder or change. Connection, a force of pushing or expansion, is the complement of Absorption, a force of pulling or contraction. Therefore, it made sense to me that if a reservoir could be absorbed from someone, then it must also be possible to give a reservoir to someone. The raising of lesser reservoirs during ascension was evidence of that, not to mention the fact that Aaron glowed like a radioactive Smurf every time we fragged.

Violet had written in her book that Connection was Linorra’s greatest gift. I had assumed she wrote that to throw Seleca off the trail by making her think that Connection was my only gift. But after thinking about it, Seleca somehow also knew about my Absorption and Conjuration. Protection was the only reservoir she hadn’t known about, a fact that still confused me since Eve and Seleca knew about my other reservoirs before Rogue ever came into my life. But if Violet’s purpose in writing that in the book wasn’t to confuse Seleca, then why did she make that comment about Connection? My intuition told me that Connection had uses I hadn’t discovered yet. Perhaps I could use it to help Ward get his mojo back. That would, indeed, be a great gift.

To that end, I asked Ward for another favor, a favor that I knew would make Aaron angry, but that was essential. I wanted to see if I could give Ward a part of my reservoir. I had to be delicate about this because it would require a deep Connectionlink, and not only was Aaron going to be jealous of any connecting that I did with Ward, but Ward was also actively trying to hide his mental state from me.

I decided to wait until Aaron disappeared on one of his walkabouts. I know, I’m sneaky and manipulative, but there are some instances where it truly is better to beg forgiveness than permission. This way, Aaron wouldn’t have to experience the anticipatory anxiety. That’s better, right?

Also, he doesn’t own me. I would have done it anyway, so why torture the poor guy? I’d planned to tell him afterward. I swear.

It was early morning and the sun had not yet risen, but Aaron was already gone. A light drizzle hit the oculus, and I shivered at the thought of him walking out in the rain, though I knew he’d never be cold. That was a useful side effect of his Evocation, since this part of Monash was even colder than Northern California. Summer was almost over, but the constant rain made it feel more like late fall.

I lay in bed under the oardoo blanket as usual, and the oil lamp threw a lovely orange light over my shoulder that was bright enough to fill the whole room. I had already decided that I liked it better than electric light and would be taking the oil lamp with me to Earth, if that ever happened. In the meantime, I was perfectly content to lounge and read.

I read The Meriweather Monster and His Kin, by Marie Faraway, which recounted the tales of sailors who had survived a Merimo attack. The author proposed that the monster was actually a family of creatures whose history extended back thousands of years. I was obsessed and completely engrossed in the book, which is why I practically jumped out of my socks when Ward rapped on the trapdoor.

“Lina?”

“Come on up,” I said, trying to sound like I hadn’t just had a mini seizure. Ward suppressed a smile, but I ignored it. “It’s super early, Ward. Did you sleep at all?”

“A little,” he said, shuffling over to collapse into his reading chair. He had somehow managed to claim the cushioned seat as his regular perch despite Aaron’s obvious displeasure. “I heard Aaron leave. I figured you were up.”

“You know me well,” I said.

“You found the monster book, I see,” he said, not quite covering his smirk.

“Don’t judge me,” I said. “It’s a real sea monster. I’m part Scottish. I have no control over it. The passion is in my blood.”

Ward nodded as if that made complete sense, then picked up his own book to continue reading from where he’d left off. He slouched into the chair as much as his body would allow, curling himself in to drape his long legs over the arm, then brought the book close to his face. He had dark circles under his eyes that deepened day by day.

“Ward,” I said.

“Huh?”

“Do you think you’ll ever transform again?”

He shook his head, not taking his eyes from the book.

“What would you do if you could?” I asked.

He took a breath in and out, then just shrugged.

I let the silence sit there for a moment, but I knew he could feel me staring at him, waiting. He finally lifted his eyes to mine.

“What?” he said.

I shoved the blanket off and stood. I wore one of Jorin’s tunics, which was dark brown and so long that it draped down to my ankles. It was long-sleeved and had a wonderful silkiness. I couldn’t understand why the men’s fabrics were so comfortable and the women’s fabrics were so scratchy. Living on Monash as a woman was like death by a thousand pink paper cuts. I walked over to Ward and knelt in front of his chair. “Ward, can I connect with you?”

He sighed. “I’d rather not.”

“I know, but I’m asking anyway. Please. I want to try a sort of reverse Absorption using Connection.”

“That’s not a thing,” he said.

“How do you know?” I asked. “Isn’t Seleca the only other greater connector? I’m pretty sure she would never even attempt to give away a reservoir. Please, I want to see if I can give you some of mine. I accidentally gave Aaron lesser Connection, so I think I can do that for you too.”

“I’m not having sex with you, Lina,” he said, wrinkling his nose.

“I wasn’t offering, but wow. You could have said that without looking like someone just offered you a shit sandwich.”

Ward laughed. “Aaron won’t like it.”

“Aaron’s not here.”

Ward gave me a flat stare. “You were waiting for him to leave,” he said. It was a statement, not a question.

“Like I said, you know me well.”

“Which one would you give me?” he asked, finally closing his book and giving me his full attention.

I shrugged. “Which one do you want?”

“Protection,” he said immediately, “but I don’t think it will work. Protection can’t be absorbed, so it probably can’t be given.”

“We’ll see,” I said, rubbing my palms together.

“And,” he continued, closing his eyes for a second, “I’m not sure what you would see in there.”

“What do you mean?”

Ward spoke slowly, as if every word needed to be planned. “I’m not right in my head anymore, Lina. I came back . . . different.”

I stared at him, bewildered. “Whatever it is, I won’t judge. I’ll only try to help you. I promise.”

He wrinkled his nose again, then sighed. “Okay,” he said, though he looked like he wanted to run and hide.

“Good. I’ve been thinking a lot about how to do this, and I think it would be easier if you were facing away from me. Will you come lie on the bed?”

“Are you insane? What if Aaron walked in? Worst idea ever.”

“Fair point,” I said, “but I think it might be important for you to be comfortable. I won’t lie down with you, I’ll just sit next to you, holding your hand.”

Ward groaned. “Fine, but if Aaron kills me, I’m not coming back this time.”

“If Aaron tries to kill you, you’ll protect yourself because this is going to work,” I countered. “Come on, it’ll be just like old times. Except for the excruciating pain part.”

He pinched one side of his mouth. “That sounds exactly like old times,” he said. “Get out of the way.”

I got up, and he followed me to the bed. Luckily, he’d finally bathed. That was three days ago, but it was better than nothing. I stepped aside, letting him lie down. He sank into the oardoo-feather mattress and released a low groan.

“Oh, it is so not fair that you’ve been sleeping on this the whole time,” he said. “This is incredible.”

“See? This was a good idea. Face that way,” I said, pointing away from me. He turned on his side, and I sat on the bed behind him, leaning over him to take his hand. It was cool and clammy. “Ready?” I asked.

“I guess,” he mumbled. He sounded like he might fall asleep.

I didn’t immediately connect with him as I had with Aaron. Because of our mutual attraction, Aaron and I had entered into a superficial Connection link upon the first moment of contact despite our bilateral Protection reservoirs. Ward had only grudgingly agreed to connect with me, so I had to push my way past his reluctance in order to achieve even a faint whiff of Connection. I could feel his exhaustion, and I hesitated.

“Ward, I need you to actively let me in,” I said. “I won’t force myself on you.”

He didn’t respond for so long that I thought he must be asleep, but then he drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Finally, he let me in. It felt like he drew a curtain aside so I could peer through a doorway that had previously only revealed shadows and silhouettes. The curtain stuck, but he managed to get it halfway open. I closed my eyes and tentatively quested out into the deeper Connectionlink.

In Ward’s mind, I saw a small house, little more than a shack. I knew I still sat on the bed, but it was as if I had been sucked into a dream with him, barely aware of my real body. I stood at the threshold of the house, peeking in. It was dark and smelled stale and smoky. It reminded me of how Jorin’s house smelled when we first arrived, combined with the smell of a campfire.

I heard the echo of a dog barking in the backyard. I couldn’t tell if that was from Ward’s mind or my own memory. It sounded frantic, just like the day of my accident.

Rogue, I thought. I miss you, my friend. Come home.

“I’m right here,” Ward said.

“Where?” I said, looking all around. I couldn’t see a damned thing. Behind me, where a street should have been, there was only emptiness, a vast void that would swallow me whole if I fell backward. I yelped, stepping hastily into the house. It felt so real. The boards creaked under my feet, and I felt a musty draft on my face. “What the hell? Where are we?” I asked.

“This was our home,” I heard him say, though he sounded far away. He was a disembodied voice that came from every direction, softly to my ears, yet a little too loudly in my mind.

“Whose home?” I asked.

“My brother and me,” he said, “and our mother.”

“Why is it so dark?” I asked. “Turn on a light.”

“There’s no light here anymore,” he said. “Not for a long time.”

As my eyes adjusted, I noticed that the house wasn’t just dark. It was burned to the ground. The minute I noticed this, the smell of burning intensified dramatically and I coughed as if smoke still filled the air.

Exposed wooden posts stood with empty air between them where the walls should have been. Black, scattered piles of what might have been furniture cluttered the floor, and one side of the house had caved in. On the other side, through a large hole in the roof, I saw two moons: one white, one red.

“What happened here?” I asked.

“Fire,” he whispered. “Everything in my life has been destroyed by fire. My house. My mother. My face. My whole life.”

“Why? How?”

“Seleca,” he said. “Once she found out about the strength of my reservoir, she came for me. She was there for me the day Aaron escaped. Finding out about his Evocation was just an unfortunate coincidence. After that day, Ellis disappeared, Aaron disappeared, my home and mother disappeared. She took everything and made me believe it was my fault. I had nowhere to turn except to her. She condemned me to Hell and made me believe she was my savior. It was a perfect, beautiful lie, and I didn’t realize it until you woke me up that day in the field.”

I closed my eyes, feeling Ward’s despair in my soul. The pain of it was more than an uncomfortable emotion. It was a physical burden that pressed down on my awareness so hard I fell to my knees. I knew I hadn’t actually fallen, but it still hurt when my knees cracked down on the floorboards. For a moment, my mind drifted to the memory of my accident. My lungs were heavy, and I tasted blood in my mouth. Oh, my friend. I’m here. I’m still here. But where are you?

I opened my eyes again, but the burned-out house was gone, replaced by my own home in the redwoods. The sun overhead shone brighter than I remembered, but I smelled the sweet and spicy aroma of my favorite place, and for a joyous moment, I thought I had been teleported home. I jumped up, the weight on me abruptly gone. I took off running toward the house, heading for the door to the screened-in porch.

I reached the porch door and yanked on the handle, but it wouldn’t open. I pulled on it even harder, confused because the porch door didn’t even have a lock. It wasn’t locked, though, but frozen, as if it was just a video of a house that had been paused. I turned around, staring at the trees and sky. Everything was still. There was no wind, no birds, no swaying and rustling of branches. The sky was bright blue with no clouds, and there wasn’t a lick of fog anywhere. This wasn’t right.

Barking still came from somewhere, but it sounded far away. I jogged toward the sound, into the forest.

“Ward?” I called. “Where are you? This is creepy and weird, and I wasn’t at all prepared to be sucked into a bright blue nightmare. What in the hell is happening?” I continued jogging toward the sound, which was getting louder and louder. “Ward!”

“Calm down. You’re so dramatic,” he said.

“Oh, good. You’ve learned the gaslighter’s creed,” I said, stopping to glance around. “Do you have a body or am I the only character in this horror movie?”

Then, I heard a growling behind me. I spun to see a white wolf bearing down on me. Its eyes were deep red, and its fangs, which had grown inconceivably long and sharp, dripped with blood. The wolf looked like it might morph into a saber-toothed tiger. I stumbled backward and fell because, ya know, that’s what idiots like me do in horror movies. The white wolf jumped clear over me and dashed off into the woods.

I looked over my shoulder in stunned confusion, then got up to follow it because it barreled off in the direction of the barking that I knew must be Rogue.

“Lina, wait,” Ward said. “Just let that one go.”

“What do you mean?” I asked incredulously. “That was the white wolf that caused my accident. I have to go see what happened.”

“Lina, there’s nothing for you to see over there. I ran away and hid. That’s it. I ran, and then Seleca found me and sent me to lead you toward the bridge. You don’t need to see me being a bad friend.”

“You’re not a bad friend, and you still haven’t answered my question about why I can’t see you,” I said.

“I don’t know,” he said in a small voice. “Maybe because, in my mind, I’m already gone.”

Again, I felt his despair, and again I fell, crushed by the weight of it. I tasted blood in my mouth again as my body and awareness were both pushed down into the dirt so hard that I lost my breath. I had a flash of memory, the hooves of a horse, a crushing pain in my chest. I knew, then, that this trauma might kill me right alongside my friend.

I heard Ward calling in my mind. Lina, I’m sorry! I can’t help it. I’ve tried. I can’t stop! He was crying again.

I squeezed my eyes closed to avoid getting dirt in them as a force I could feel but not see pressed me deeper and deeper into the ground. Like a fragment,I thought.

Though I knew my subconscious mind didn’t need to breathe, I nevertheless suffocated under the crushing weight of Ward’s anguish and would soon run out of air and die. I was vaguely aware that my real body had slumped over on top of his and was unconscious. It was almost as if I had connected with Ward so deeply that I had left myself behind altogether. If I died here, I didn’t know if my body would ever wake up again. I had a strong suspicion that the answer was no for both of us.

I searched for the elusive Conjuration fragment in my mind and found it wisping around in the background as if trying to hide. I reached out for it, but it resisted capture, escaping through cracks in my concentration like smoke.

I would not permit this.

Come!I commanded, then imagined sucking the smoky fragment to myself like a vacuum. You are mine. Come to me. It came swiftly now, filling my unconscious body like helium into a balloon. The pressure on me eased, and I breathed easily again.

“What did you do?” Ward asked, sounding relieved.

I shot up from the imaginary ground, filled with inspiration. “Ward, I greatly underestimated the power of Conjuration,” I said. “I’ve barely used it, and only then it was to talk to Spirit. She says that the soul of a person is basically their experience of the past, present, and future. We always assume that the body, or at least the brain, is the thing that makes us think and experience things, but what if there is this thing called a soul that is doing the actual experiencing and the brain is just an interface between that experience and concrete, time-locked reality?”

“Uh, yeah, isn’t that what everyone believes?” Ward asked.

“I have no idea. I’ve always been agnostic, maybe even atheist. I still am, actually. I’m just not an aspiritualist. Is that a word?” I was too excited to analyze the semantics of my idea.

“That’s why Spirit can hear people’s thoughts—because she is seeing their soul.” I ignored Ward’s sudden shock at the revelation that Spirit could read his mind. “Conjuration lets me manipulate a soul. Doesn’t that mean I can manipulate a person’s experience? I could literally undo trauma! I mean, I’m not saying I could unmake the timeline, but maybe I could alter how someone experiences that timeline. Ward, I think I can combine Conjuration with Connection and Protection to not only heal your spirit but to send a reservoir into your soul that will let you heal yourself!”

I spoke rapidly. Rambling, actually. “Best of all, if I could give you greater Protection and we managed to teleport to Earth, we could teleport back to Monash over an Earth bridge, which will ascend your Protection and raise any traces you may have of Transformation back up to the level of a greater reservoir. Then you could travel back to Earth over a Monash bridge and ascend your Transformation. You’d be even more powerful than you were before, Ward. Of course, that will only work if I’m right about the soul being the housing for fragment reservoirs. And if the ascensions don’t kill you.”

I laughed nervously. It wasn’t exactly a foolproof plan. I wasn’t sure if I was even coherent at this point. I stopped to look around again as if this time, I would find Ward.

“I’m not sure I want it back,” he said. “It was a curse.”

“Ward, Seleca abused you,” I said in the softest voice I could manage. “She fucking abused you from the time you were a child. She is an evil, murderous disease upon this world, and we must be the cure. I need you to show yourself to me, Ward. I can’t do this without your help. Please.”

It’s amazing how far the word please will take you sometimes. I heard a scuffling noise behind me and turned to find not Ward but Rogue. He sat still as a statue, gazing up at me the way he used to, his beautiful amber eyes attentive and aware, as always. He was a huge, copper-colored hound with the same handprint-shaped white patch on his face. That patch had a slightly different meaning now, but it was a part of him, and I loved it.

Lina, you’re not going to be able to just put your hands on me and fix me. It’s not that simple. Even if you heal my spirit, the memories won’t go away. I am who I am. Ward sent his thoughts to me, but they were also accompanied by a profound emptiness I knew I wouldn’t be able to fill no matter how hard I tried. He would have to do that himself. All I could do was convince him that he wouldn’t have to be alone while doing it. I knelt in front of him, which made his dog form slightly taller than me, and I wrapped my arms around his neck.

“I don’t want to fix you,” I said. “I love who you are, my friend. I always have.” I paused for a second. I wanted to get this right. “I just know that when I was alone, I felt hopeless. I felt like I could disappear into the woods and no one would even notice. And sometimes you were the only reason I walked back out again.”

Rogue laid his cute canine face on one of my shoulders and a paw on the other, the way he always used to do. I felt a strong surge of love for him, and I sent that feeling into him through our Connectionlink. He sent it right back to me. For a moment, everything seemed like it would be okay.

“Ready?” I asked.

He made a low doggy groan, and I chuckled. “I’ll take that as an ‘I guess,’” I said.

I slipped my hand under his paw, touching the pad of his foot, then closed my eyes to concentrate. This would be my first time trying to combine three fragments at once, and it would be tricky because I had to focus on each fragment to manipulate it. I thought it might be best to add one at a time. I was already deeply connected to Ward, so I decided to send Conjuration next.

“I have no idea how this is going to feel,” I said. “Brace yourself.”

I called to my Conjuration fragment as I had learned I needed to do, and it came to me. I combined it with my Connection fragment into a blended link, and the two energies twisted around each other like colored dyes in water. The stream slid into my friend. When the Conjuration fragment went into him, he shivered violently as if hypothermic. I hung on to him, and the shivering lessened but didn’t cease.

I could feel myself getting tired already. I didn’t know how long I could keep it up, so I quickly added Protection into the stream. I still had my eyes closed, but I felt Rogue relax and then slump down out of my arms. I hung on to his paw and could feel it transforming into a hand. It was an odd, lumpy process, and a little disturbing, but I hung on. It was working! Conjuration and Protection combined to heal his spirit, and Connection delivered them.

I’m a genius, I thought, feeling extremely pleased with myself. By that time, I really should have known better than to allow myself a moment of smug satisfaction. It’s always at those moments that everything goes to hell.

I opened my eyes to find myself back in Aaron’s bedroom. Ward still lay on the bed but had slumped onto his stomach, his face smooshed into the pillow. I had fallen on top of him, my left hand still curled over his left hand. God, what would have happened if I had let go? I sat up to hear him moan a little.

“Goddess, that feels good,” he mumbled. He lifted his hips a little and reached under himself with his other hand, needing to make a quick adjustment to his anatomy. He pulled his hand back out, thank goodness.

“No comments,” he said. “Still not having sex with you.”

I snorted in a very unladylike fashion. “Still not offering,” I said.

“Well, that’s good to hear at least,” Aaron said.