“The temptation is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Not just the promises of power—no, it finds out exactly what you want, and it finds a way to promise that to you, too. For forty years I’ve dealt with the Eldritch’s whispers in my head, living on the verge of a utopia I can’t accept—paradise cloaking a darkness within, all wrapped in those abyssal whispers.”

—From the writings of heretic Jula Chedris

 

Zaina stared at the ceiling, bored of scrolling through her vexicon. This cell was much nicer than her last one in the Celestial Sanctuary, but it was still a cell she wasn’t allowed to leave. Guards brought in fresh supplies daily. Supposedly, this was all for her safety.

Are they really trying to keep me safe, or everyone else?

Compared to her previous stay, this room was at least four times as spacious. All the same amenities provided by her hut lined the walls, leaving plenty of room to practice magick. Her abilities were still forming, and her progression was slow. All she could summon were bubbles of light and tiny waves of sound.

Whenever her sense of boredom became mind-numbing—which was often—she’d lay on her bed and pull up more information about magick, or the history of the Order of Riiva, or whatever was on her mind at the time. There was quite a vast library contained within the vexicon’s network, with more being added daily whenever scholars transcribed old books and new to digital formats.

“House alert” was the friendly name for Kaado’s planetary lockdown. There was little to be done but wait in this room until the situation blew over. Somewhere beneath the sanctuary, her mentor was awaiting trial. Much to Zaina’s amazement, she still hadn’t learned that awful woman’s name—but her being the murderer didn’t make a terrible amount of sense.

She sighed. Was her mentor guilty? She was brash, sure—rude, yes, and absolutely not a fun person to be around. But killing for the Eldritch? Zaina wasn’t so sure. Besides, she saw the heretic and her mentor at the same time. If her mentor was guilty, there had to be someone else in on it, too.

Still, the evidence was somewhat damning. The video feeds near her mentor’s hut were cut off that night by the same particle decay. Though she wasn’t sighted en route to the Celestial Sanctuary, the video feed there, too, had been interrupted when the High Scholar was killed. They were last seen talking to an attendant before the frame froze—when next it picked up, several minutes later, the attendant was missing, apparently having been so distraught she locked herself in a closet; and the High Scholar was dead, a fang sticking out of her chest. One of her arms hung over the edge of her hover-bed, which was grounded and tilting to one side.

Zaina sighed. Part of her wanted to put all of this behind her—to move on with her life as a lancer and get to saving the galaxy. Another part of her was worried trouble was following her wherever she went, and that she’d never escape it. Was this a string of bad luck following her, or something more malicious?

With a wistful frown, she summoned her cipher and waved it around a bit. What good was this weapon while it was stuck in here? She knew the scholars suspected her—was that why they wanted her down here, comfortably out of the way?

One of her hands reached up and touched her face—something from Demelia had stuck with her forever, whether she liked it or not. No matter how far she traveled, how many lives she saved, how many heroic stories about her were told—she was still a heretic, and people would always blame her when bad things happened. Lancer powers were brief and temporary, but the Mark of the Recalcitrant was forever.

Zaina’s cipher dissipated. Who would ever want this?

Her reverie was interrupted by a knock at the door. Zaina’s head tilted—it wasn’t the right time of day for resupply. Time usually passed by at a grindingly slow crawl—had she lost track of it?

The cell door opened. Two lancers were stationed outside, further muddling the line between prison and safe house. Zaina’s visitor walked in, and her heart swelled with joy at the sight of a friend.

“Ovela!”

Flashing a bright grin, Ovela replied, “Hey, Zaina! How are you holding up?”

“Oh, you know,” Zaina said as her friend closed the door behind her. “The usual, plus some. You?”

Ovela took a seat in one of the spare chairs against the wall. “Oh, I’ve been pretty good, to be honest. Can’t say I remember a more exciting time to be on Kaado. But then I saw your name on the docket for today, so I made sure I’d have a little time to stop by and chat for a bit.”

Zaina’s head tilted. “Docket?”

Ovela nodded. “My list of meetings to arrange. I get people where they need to go. High Scholar Vae wants to talk to you again, apparently—no clue what it’s about, but it must be related to the investigation.”

Zaina grimaced. Surely there couldn’t have been another death—lancers were stationed nearly everywhere. The heretic wouldn’t be able to make a move without someone knowing.

Zaina leaned back and released a deep, heaving sigh. “He’s probably going to try to have me arrested again. I mean, why wouldn’t he? He hates heretics, and he already got his way with my mentor.”

Ovela leaned toward Zaina. “You mean—you think she’s innocent?”

Zaina’s shoulders sank. “I don’t know what to think. Nothing makes sense anymore.”

Ovela reached over and placed a tender hand on Zaina’s back. “I understand. I thought the world was fair once, too. But it’s not, sadly. If the world was fair, we’d be able to be lancers forever, right?”

Zaina chuckled. “Right. I guess it’s out of my hands either way.”

“But you know,” Ovela said, pulling her hand back, “if she is innocent, that would mean the killer’s still on the loose. Someone killing scholars, blending in, and escaping punishment—nothing like this has happened on Kaado for thousands of years. It’s crazy to think about.”

“It must be the stone. The Eldritch is behind all of this—I know it.”

“I think so, too. Have you heard anything about the investigation, aside from who they’ve arrested? Do they still think there’s a third heretic?”

Zaina weighed her answer, then said, “I mean, there has to be, right? My mentor was cleared of the first murder. It wasn’t until the second that her feed started acting up. Plus, I saw her the same night the heretic came here—she couldn’t have been in two places at once. Personally, I don’t think she did it—I think the third heretic did it to throw everyone off their trail.”

Ovela rubbed her chin and nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. Lull everyone into a false sense of security.”

With a half-grin, Zaina replied, “Well, if that was their plan, it clearly didn’t work. Kaado’s on high alert now. There’s no way whoever’s doing this is going to get away with this for much longer.”

Ovela leaned in and asked, “Are you scared?”

“A little,” Zaina admitted. “But I have to be strong if I’m going to be a lancer. I have to be ready to stand up to this sort of thing, right?”

Ovela nodded. “Yes, exactly. Now—we have a few minutes before we get going. Mind if I make a cup of gamba?”

Zaina gave her the go-ahead, and Ovela brewed enough for both of them. The flavor was much more bitter than Eva’s gamba, but it was still tasty enough and filled her with energy.

“All right,” Zaina said once she had drained her cup. “Let’s deal with this elderly fuck.”

Ovela started down the dim corridor outside Zaina’s chamber, leading her back into the central hall beneath the Celestial Sanctuary. Zaina tagged along right behind her. It was eerily empty and quiet, with the sounds of their footsteps ringing out.

Zaina caught up to her friend and said, “Say, have you heard anything about the murders?”

Ovela gave a curt nod. “I saw the second one.”

“You—wait, what?” Zaina asked.

Ovela had a distant expression as she said, “I was talking to High Scholar Fidabow about some chronicling assignment High Scholar Vae asked about when that damned crazy half-heretic came out of nowhere—there was a fire in her eyes—and slew him. I went and hid, thinking I was going to die for sure.”

Zaina was taken aback. Here she had been doubting her mentor’s guilt the whole time, when her friend had been there. “I—I’m so sorry, Ovela, that’s—that’s terrible!”

“It’s fine,” Ovela said. “She’s in custody now. Now they just have to catch that third one, and everything will be back to normal.”

Zaina’s eyebrow rose. Ovela didn’t seem like it was fine—something was wrong. She was very aloof and bubbly for having been through something so traumatic so recently.

“So,” Zaina asked, “who else saw it?”

“No, it was just me. High Scholar Fidabow liked to study late at night—a lot of Scholars do, since it’s quieter.”

“You were working at night?”

Ovela shrugged. “High Scholar Vae sends me on tasks all times of the day. It’s my duty to get people where they need to go.”

Zaina gave a nod as she followed her friend down a hallway that seemed separate from the rest of the building. They exited the Celestial Sanctuary and headed for the island’s hangar.

“Where are we going?” Zaina asked.

“High Scholar Vae’s not in the Celestial Sanctuary right now,” Ovela said. “We’ll be meeting him and the others in one of the high-security storage cells.”

Zaina shuddered. It had to be important if it involved being so close to the stone—the Eldritch’s whispers seeped into her mind. I hope that bastard Vae knows what he’s doing.

They flew across Kaado’s interior, darting between islands and catching up. Zaina promised to show Ovela her new armor and complained about her mentor. Finally, they arrived at an island with its edges nearly overtaken by a single, imposingly tall, windowless building. There was only one door, guarded on either side by lancers. Ovela flashed her credentials, and they were allowed inside.

“So,” Zaina said, “you know what this meeting’s about?”

“It has something to do with the orb,” Ovela replied. “Beyond that, I’m not really sure. Sorry I can’t tell you more.”

Zaina flashed a half-smile. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m just a little worried about being so close to that—thing.”

“Right,” Ovela said.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Zaina asked. “You know, if you want to talk about the incident—I’m here to listen.”

“I’ll be all right,” Ovela said. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

Zaina nodded. Her friend was acting strangely, but that wasn’t for her to judge—after all, a High Scholar was brutally murdered in front of her. People reacted to trauma in different ways.

They turned a corner, and there was a hallway with a single door at the very end.

Weird, there’s no one standing guard.

“Well,” Ovela said, gesturing toward the door, “High Scholar Vae awaits. He does like his privacy.”

Zaina trotted along behind Ovela to the end of the hallway, and the former lancer opened the door.

“Head on in,” she said, gesturing for Zaina to go in first.

Zaina entered the room. The first thing that hit her was the smell—it was the odor of death, of blood, waste, and decomposing flesh. She glanced over at a black object in the corner of her eye—it was two lancers, each impaled with a heretic’s fang, their crumpled bodies shoved against the near wall. On the other side of the room, leaning on its side, was the hover-bed of High Scholar Vae—he, too, was dead, a fang sticking out of his chest, pinning his corpse inside his grounded hover-bed.

The second thing was the whispers—they were back in full force, threatening to take over. Zaina faced the side wall—there, emanating a foul aura from within its hyper-glass case, was the Eldritch’s orb.

Zaina’s heartbeat thumped in her ears. Every muscle in her body was heavy, weighed on by fear—what the hell was going on? An iron crash came from behind her as the door slammed shut. Zaina turned and gasped.

“We’re finally here,” Ovela said with a triumphant grin, brandishing a black sword.