Tuning the Symphony (Dissolution Cycle) Page 3

  A booted toe touched a pressure point in her leg and she wavered to that side with a grunt. He circled and the next punch came at an oblique angle, just grazing his glove’s leather against her chin. One of her teeth bit into her cheek.

  She saw him gather for the last strike—the one that would push her backward out of the circle. Her mind was foggy now, and slow, like cold honey. There was something she had to remember, more important than anything else. It was a simple sequence of notes.

  Oh yes.

  She reversed what she had done, gaining the phrases of her song back.

  As the councilor sprang forward, her mind cleared, her reactions increased, and she saw the opening she would not have before.

  Councilor Zsaana struck, but Rilan spun to the side much faster than she had moved before, taking a stance from Dancing Step. She caught a flash of surprise in the cat’s eyes deep under his hood as Zsaana flew past her, landing with the toe of one boot outside the circle.

  Rilan turned to him and bowed. Councilor Zsaana gave a respectful tilt of his cowled head in return.

  “Your technique, it has improved, but do not depend on such deception to save your life. It is risky. You are ready for your last test, apprentice.”

  Rilan walked to the only section of the testing area she hadn’t yet visited, near where the Spire of the Maji met the wall of the column. Back across its width, Vethis was face to face with Speaker Karendi. She held on to the hope that he couldn’t find a way to cheat his way through this test.

  Outside, it was nearly full dark in the city. In the Spire of the Maji, she saw the crowd of onlookers craning to see her actions. Her eyes roamed the various maji and apprentices in vain.

  Where is he?

  She directed a raised eyebrow to Farha Meyta, but her mentor only shook his balding head. He didn’t know either.

  Rilan faced the last councilor.

  The head of the House of Potential stared back impassively from under bushy black eyebrows, and Rilan finally looked away from the intense gaze. She had to stop thinking about Origon.

  “This is the last one, apprentice,” he cautioned, his voice resonant. “Keep your wits about you. You will need them.”

  Councilor Mandamon Feldo

  Rilan glanced down at the worktable between them, holding a contraption made of interwoven gears, levers, and springs. Many separate pieces were clasped together, some with vials of fluids held between metal pistons.

  “I, Councilor Mandamon Feldo, head of the House of Potential, challenge you to overcome my puzzle and show yourself worthy of the House of Healing. Disarm my bomb.”

  Her head jerked back up. Though he was the only councilor of her species, he was harder to read than some of the aliens.

  “Time is wasting, apprentice.”

  Rilan focused on the contraption—the bomb—and swallowed. There were no biological pieces. There was nothing for her to affect with the Symphony. The parts were obviously artifacts made with the House of Potential, many with faint brown auras, storing energy and action in different combinations. They might also store effects from other houses. Each artifact could do something as sinister as suck the air from her lungs, or merely slip from her grasp. There was one way to tell, though she had rarely used that facet of the House of Healing.

  Rilan dove into the Symphony, tracing the architecture of the convoluted thing with a finger, listening for the traces every person left in their wake. Far down in the melody there was a crumbling cadenza, the music deteriorated with age. But there was still evidence of fingers and breath touching it in the past, marking its construction. As she was only listening, and not changing, she would be able to do this multiple times. But the moment she used her song to change notes, the universe would close down on that potential for variation.

  Rilan closed her eyes, listening to the story the notes told. There was a switch, carefully placed with bare fingers when arming the mechanism, just…there.

  She pushed a point on a cubical piece, identical to every other part, and the pistons hissed, releasing the cube’s grasp. She risked a glance up, to see Councilor Feldo’s eyes trained on her, no expression on his face. His arms were crossed in front of his dark brown suitcoat.

  “Do you imagine he’ll arrive before you finish your test?”

  Rilan frowned. “I have no idea.” That wasn’t fair. She bent back to her task, trying to focus on the notes. Her mind wandered to all the reasons Origon could be late. Of all the people not to be at her test. He was scattered when he chose to be, but whatever he was to her now; professor, friend…something more…she deserved more respect than this.

  Origon, I’m going to kill you when this is over.

  She became aware of the councilor’s finger, tapping against his other arm, and shook her head, pushing the arrogant man from her mind.

  The next part to the puzzle was more complex, having changed hands several times. Finally, she traced down the answer and pressed the correct combination of buttons on its side.

  “I imagine even apprentice Vethis could finish this faster.” Rilan tried to ignore the councilor’s voice.

  The next piece was shaped like a clenched hand, fingers closed into the palm. Bare skin had never touched it, and she darted an irritated look at the councilor. He stared back.

  She dug even farther into the Symphony. This far down, chords and musical phrases sped by, faster than she could follow. Pieces were incomplete, like listening to one instrument playing something meant for a full orchestra.

  She kept on, thoughts of Origon sliding into her concentration, disrupting her test.

  So he isn’t here. Why should that matter? Maybe he was only interested in a good student. Maybe I read his attentions wrong.

  “Focus, apprentice. This is why inter-species relationships are frowned upon. Too much miscommunication.”

  What did the councilor know about it? Maybe he thought she should be with Vethis instead, just because he was near her own age and her same species? Rilan scowled up at him. Was that worry on his face? She snapped back to her task. Which piece was next?

  There were several left, but this puzzle had many dead ends. She chose a clasp holding a box in its middle. It was the most likely to be her objective.

  Something held the clasp closed, some infused air pressure captured by a member of the House of Communication. She looked into the Symphony to determine its source, peering past crumbling chords.

  Origon had created it.

  Her mind whirled, trying to understand. He had even contributed to her test. Why was he not here to see her succeed? Why wasn’t—

  Something inside the box began smoking.

  Councilor Feldo reached out quickly, his hand ringed with the rust-brown color of the House of Potential. As he made contact with the box, the smoke died away, its energy transferred before it could explode.

  The councilor flicked the air with a hand and a miniature firework shone sun-bright for a moment as the air heated incandescent, then faded.

  “And that would be time, apprentice.”

  Rilan hung her head.

  A few minutes later, she stood in the middle of the circular floor. To her right, lights were shining in the vast city outside the crystal column, especially in the High Imperium, where money and fashion were prevalent. The sons and daughters of senators, speakers, and other diplomats would be playing at cards, drinking wine, and dancing at balls. Vethis was beside her, seeming at ease, his velvet suit as unwrinkled as if he had just put it on.

  To her left Farha Meyta still watched her eagerly from the Spire of the Maji, though some of the other spectators were playing card games or talking amongst themselves. Probably Vethis’ friends who had grown bored of the tests. All six members of the Council of the Maji spoke amongst themselves in a little circle not far away, but no sound came to them.

  “Concerned, Ayama?” Vethis asked. Only one of them would leave this column a full majus. The other would have to wait until the next rising apprentice from
the House of Healing was ready.

  “Of course not,” she answered, though she felt as if she might be sick. Honestly, she was a good student. She shouldn’t be worried. The tests were made to be passed. Otherwise she would have no chance to win against the senior maji who had become the heads of their respective houses. Yet she had tied one—barely—and lost another. She had no idea how well Vethis did. He could have been a good student if he applied himself instead of lazing about with his rich friends. It was one of the things about him that annoyed her most.

  She looked up as rustling came to her. The councilors filed in a semicircle around her and Vethis, a vast difference in shapes and sizes, from the diminutive Councilor Zsaana to the towering Etanela councilor.

  Speaker Karendi stepped forward just a little, used to being the voice of the Council. Her crest of feathery hair bristled, and the Nether translated it to an impression of someone settling a jacket. “We have been discussing your tests, apprentices. Your skills are not being in question. Both of you are having enough talent in the House of Healing to work with any of the other houses in our service of the Great Assembly.”

  Speaker Karendi looked at Vethis first. “Your natural skill in healing is impressive to several of the councilmembers.” Vethis stood straighter at that, smiling.

  The speaker turned to Rilan. “And with your talent for hearing and changing the Grand Symphony, you could rise far one day—maybe even to the heights of the Council.”

  Rilan felt a thrill rise through her. They thought she was that good? Then why were there frowns on some councilors’ faces? She waited for the ‘but.’

  “But,” Speaker Karendi continued, “the maji are servants of the ten species. We are creating the portals that connect the ten homeworlds with the Nether and with each other. Without us, there could be no Great Assembly of Species.”

  Her crest of feathery hair waved as if in a breeze. “Neither of you are yet willing to serve, to ignore distractions that take you away from your work. Apprentice Ayama, you go your own way, around the rules that hold our society together. You must be finding out what it means to be helping its inhabitants, instead. Apprentice Vethis, you are, bluntly, arrogant. You must learn to listen to those who know more than you. You would do well to study with Apprentice Ayama, and vice versa. Each of you could teach the other something. Now, I will be giving over to my fellow councilors.”

  Rilan frowned at Vethis, and saw the same expression mirrored on his face. That’s never going to happen. She looked back to the house heads.

  Councilor Huar gave a big pink smile, tongue lolling in a Festuour smile. “You passed in my eyes, dear,” she said to Rilan. “I’ll be up for a rematch anytime.” She turned to Vethis, not smiling so broadly. “You passed as well, though next time I wager you’ll remember not to challenge the House of Strength head on.” Rilan wondered what his test had been. It sounded like the Festuour favored her over Vethis.

  Speaker Karendi’s crest made a single flat line down the middle of her head. Decisive. “Apprentice Ayama, while your technique may be suspect—I am not enjoying being mentally adjusted—I must pass you on merit alone.” She crossed bare liverspotted arms. “Apprentice Vethis, I am afraid you did not measure up to what I expected.”

  A straight win for her. Rilan felt a little bit of tension leave.

  The councilor for the House of Power rubbed at his rubbery mouth with long fingers, watching Rilan. The tips of his three head-tentacles twitched around his shoulders. “Try not to keep the company of that man so much. Nothing good will come of such an inter-species dalliance.”

  Rilan felt her eyebrows climb. How widely known was their relationship? This was the Nether, not a backwards homeworld. Still, she caught a nod of agreement from some of the other councilors out of the corner of her eye. The Lobath councilor looked to his left and the next councilor. It seemed that was all he had to say. What did that mean? Did she pass or did Vethis? She caught her rival frowning as well.

  The head of the House of Grace paused for a moment, looking upward from her great height. “A pass for both. There are not many who can rival me at the obstacle course. I am frankly surprised either of you came as close as you did.”

  Yep. Still an ass. And still no help to decide who would become majus. The twisting feeling in Rilan’s stomach returned.

  Councilor Zsaana folded gloved hands together, the opening of his hood pointing to Rilan. “Today, I am afraid I cannot pass you.” She gaped, and some of the other councilors even looked surprised. “Your technique, it is good, but ineffective. In real combat, with intent to injure, your technique would be impractical and you would be quickly defeated. My vote, it is going to Apprentice Vethis.” And after Vethis’ report to her, she was sure she had that one locked down. What test had the councilor set for Vethis?

  Councilor Feldo glared at her under his bushy eyebrows. His eyes flicked to Zsaana and back to her. “My vote was to fail you and pass Vethis. Before I do that, one question. Apprentice, why did you fail to defuse my bomb?”

  Rilan opened her mouth, hesitated. Her first inclination was to say she should have used some better method, but she knew that was untrue. She could tell the way she answered this question would be important, maybe to her future as a majus.

  “The truth, apprentice,” Feldo warned.

  Rilan forced the answer out, but kept her eyes on the floor. “My attachments…no…my attachment got the better of me.”

  “And this is how it will always be.” Rilan looked up to Feldo in surprise, and saw Speaker Karendi frown. “Keep that in mind. A pass for Apprentice Ayama.”

  Rilan blinked.

  Speaker Karendi looked her councilors over. “If I am understanding your votes correctly, both Apprentices have passed four of their tests and failed two. In everything, the Council must be unanimous. Which apprentice shall we pass? Please be giving your vote to one or the other.”

  In turn, each of the councilors gave their answer.

  “The House of Strength passes Apprentice Ayama.”

  “The House of Communication is also passing Apprentice Ayama.”

  “The House of Power passes Apprentice Vethis.”

  The tall Etanela councilor hesitated, hands smoothing back her mane of hair. She had been one to pass both of them. Then, “The House of Grace passes Apprentice Vethis.”

  “The House of Healing passes Apprentice Vethis,” Councilor Zsaana growled beneath his dark cowl.

  “And the House of Potential passes Apprentice Ayama.” Councilor Feldo crossed his arms. “I believe we are tied again, Councilors. Is someone willing to change their vote?”

  Several hundred ages of the universe went by, and no one spoke. Rilan’s stomach felt like lead, and she pressed her hands to her leather pants to keep them from shaking. She saw Vethis smoothing his coat again and again, though it was as straight as it was going to be.

  Gradually, Rilan got the impression of eyes staring at her from under Councilor Zsaana’s hood. “My vote, I will be willing to change. Pass for Apprentice Ayama.”

  Rilan sagged. She heard Vethis stamp a foot, and for once, couldn’t blame him. He must be surprisingly competent when testing for them to be tied. He had never been a good student at university.

  “Welcome, Majus Rilan Ayama, to the House of Healing,” Speaker Karendi intoned. “Henceforth you will be granted all privileges of majus status, including rooms, stipend, and a seat in the Great Assembly. You will also be required to fulfill all duties, including operating portals to the various homeworlds in equal portion to other maji.” The speaker let a smile show her pointy teeth. “Congratulations.” She turned to Vethis. “Do not let this be disheartening you, apprentice. With such a close test, I am sure you will be making majus next time.”

  The others followed suit, congratulating her in their various manners, and offering condolences to Vethis. One by one they passed through the wall of the column back into the Spire of the Maji proper, to the applause and commiseration of the wa
iting crowd.

  After that, it was all smiles, and handshakes, and back pats for Rilan. She spoke to all those who had watched from outside the column. Even some of Vethis’ friends came over to congratulate her, seeming sincere.

  Rilan returned every smile she got, even going so far as to shake hands with Vethis, though he did try to squeeze her knuckles off. Afterward he went to talk with his mentor, a small majus of the House of Healing who earned his living as a medical doctor.

  Her own mentor, Farha Meyta, gave her a gift of a small white bell, imbued with a permanent investment of his own song and the Symphony of Healing, held to the bell by the craft of the House of Potential. He said it would ward off disease.

  “It has been a pleasure, dear,” he said.

  “But now please get out of your apartment?”

  Farha laughed good naturedly at her joke. “I’ll admit, I am ready to be on my own again.”

  “Maybe you’ll finally find a wife,” she ribbed.

  “Or another insufferable apprentice. I used to have hair before I took you on, you know.” They clasped hands again. “Good luck, Rilan—Majus Ayama,” he said. “I’m sure we will be seeing each other across the Great Assembly.”

  Rilan took her leave of her mentor—former mentor, and slowly started pressing toward the exit. She took one last look back at Vethis, who was now talking animatedly with a large Festuour she didn’t recognize. He would become a majus eventually, and maybe this would inspire the lazy man to pay attention to his work, but she doubted it.

  She headed for stairs down and out of the Spire of the Maji. Despite her forced calm, she was about to jump out of her own head. By Shiv’s ponderous earlobes, where was that man?

  Origon