Compendium (8 page)

“They’re used to remove spores from the books,” Mia said.

“Yes, I recall him saying something of the sort,” she said, looking around at the many shelves of faded volumes. “I’m Taryn Windbough, by the by. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”

“Mia Jayne. I’ve been rather unpopular among the others.” She gave Taryn a wry smile. “Brother SainClair doesn’t appreciate my presence among you overmuch.”

“Ah, yes, well, he’s always been one to stand on formality. One only joins the Order because one is called.” She gave Mia a knowing smile. It carved the edges of her lips, and her eyes sparkled. Mia didn’t think anyone had smiled at her this much since she’d arrived. “I don’t believe he’s much impressed with me either. He’s told me more than once that he finds my area of concentration useless to the betterment of the Order.”

“Why would he say that?”

Taryn glided closer to Mia on her noiseless slippers. Mia noticed that the pin on her sash bore a mature tree on it but one with no fruit. Taryn set down the load of books, parchment, and other accouterments she was carrying and turned one of the wooden chairs at the central reading table around to face where Mia sat on the ratty carpet at the base of the shelves. When it was situated to her liking, she dropped gracefully into a sitting position like a leaf falling from a tree. A slight tinge of jealousy niggled at the nape of Mia’s neck; she moved like a boar in the forest, crashing about. She could sneak, but it was never fluid, and she certainly hadn’t mastered Taryn’s economy of movement.

“Well,” Taryn finally said, “as I spend more time with the Order, I’m finding that I’ve much interest in the history of our realm and the Order’s place in that history. I suppose Brother SainClair finds so much focus on what was to be useless.” She shrugged, apparently not bothered by his wrath. “It’s of no concern to me. I’m of the firm belief that history provides many of the clues we need to secure the future, like following a trail of gourds someone who has come before has left for us to follow and use. Besides,” she added, waving a hand at the Archives, “one of our tenets is the protection of the old ways. How can we protect something we don’t understand?”

“That makes sense,” Mia said, although she could confess no great interest in history herself. She’d been dealing with these volumes for weeks, and although it was certainly interesting to think about history, it wasn’t always interesting to read about it. “Personally, though,” Mia continued, “I much prefer books that tell me how to do something practical.”

Taryn raised a thin eyebrow at that comment. “Like what? Cooking instruction?”

“No,” Mia said, “like those books that show you drawings of various types of plants so you can determine which ones can be used for light and how long, and whether they need to remain attached to the root or whether they’re portable, and whether they’re edible after their electrical function is concluded.”

“Ah,” said Taryn, “you’re much like Brother Cornelius then.”

“I suppose I am,” Mia said. “I get rather excited when he talks about his inventions, although his study is clearly focused on these volumes.” She gestured around. “He lights up like a firefly when he’s talking about book preservation and such. I think my interest is more electrochemical. I like to tinker with the trees and roots and augment hearths and such.”

“Why are you here in the Archives then?” Taryn asked thoughtfully.

“I suppose I’m needed more here. Brother Cornelius has no one to assist him.”
No need for her to know how hard I lobbied with the Taskmaster. It’s embarrassing enough remembering it.
“I like it well enough,” Mia added.

“Well, it’s certainly peaceful up here,” Taryn said, and sighed. “I should visit more often so I can get some reading done. My duties fall to assisting Brother Valentine, the Ledgermaster. It’s detailed work, which I don’t mind, but it can numb the mind. I find being surrounded by these old volumes refreshing. How did I not think to come up here before?”

Mia smiled again, even though Taryn was clearly daft for wanting to spend her time up in the stuffy Archives. “What changed your mind?” she asked.

“Ah.” She frowned and slid her eyes away from Mia’s. “I suppose I’ve exhausted all other available resources.”

“Well, I’m glad I could be your last resort then.”

Taryn’s cheeks pinked, so Mia quickly switched to librarian mode. “I’m still removing spores from the volumes up here, but I’m through with all the volumes up to this point.” She gestured to her point of demarcation. “Everything from here back has been worked through and should be fine for research. You’ll be glad to know the books are in chronological order, so the oldest volumes have been tended to. I’ve been working as quickly as possible, but if you see something you really must check out, and I haven’t gotten to it yet, just let me know, and I can check it for you so you can take it from the Archives.”

Taryn stood from the chair in one light, graceful motion. “Excellent,” she said. “You don’t mind if I get to it while you work?”

“Not at all. I’ll be glad for the company, even if it’s quiet.” And this was the truth. Mia was glad for Taryn’s company just then, conversation or not. It was nice just to be regarded and considered rather than ignored.

11
A Friend

Lumin Cycle 10152

“Hey
.”
A melodious voice floated over the short wall separating Mia Jayne’s bunk from Taryn Windbough’s.

Mia was staring at the ceiling of the barracks, her thoughts jumping around in her head. She frowned slightly at the interruption.

“Hey,” the voice repeated.

“Yeah?” Mia asked after a moment.

Blond hair and a pair of gold eyes peeked up over the wall. “Are you busy?”

Mia sighed as she leaned up on an elbow. “What if I am?”

“I’m bored.”

Mia yawned in response and flopped back on what supposedly passed for a mattress. “Blast it, this thing is so uncomfortable.”

A gold eyebrow arched upward, and a smirk lifted up the corner of Taryn’s mouth.

“What?” Mia said.

“If you entertain me, I’ll let you do it from the comfort of my feather mattress.”

Mia shot into a sitting position and stared straight into Taryn’s eyes.

“If you’re lying…” she said in a menacing tone.

“I’m not. Come see for yourself.”

Three seconds later, Mia decided that she’d died and was reposing in bliss. “Where did you get this? I need, need, need one.”

Taryn surveyed Mia’s recumbent form from the chair at her desk. “I brought it from home.”

“Figures,” Mia said. “Everyone here joined up voluntarily. I’m going to be sleeping on rocks for the foreseeable future.”

“What do you mean voluntarily? Did you not hear the calling?” Her voice was tart and hinted at sarcasm.

Mia chuckled and stretched her back as she settled into the mattress. “Ah, no. I didn’t. I thought everyone knew my story already. I figured with gossip and all that.”

Taryn shrugged and put her feet up on the bed, leaning back in the chair. “I suppose I’m not the most popular acolyte myself.”

“Well, in that case,” Mia said, then told her about her meeting with the Dominus.

“So you just walked right in and demanded to see Dominus Nikola?” she asked.

“Yep.”

Taryn gave her a funny look.

“You know, Cedar thought it was odd too, when I met him on the ship.”

“Wait,” Taryn said, her eyes glittering. “You met Cedar outside the Compound?”

Mia nodded. “I met him on the ship over here.”

“Oh, do tell,” she said, bouncing slightly in her chair.

Mia’s face grew warm. It wasn’t that big of a deal really. Her mind wandered back to the ship, and she told Taryn an abridged version of the story.

“That sounds just like him,” Taryn said with a smile, referring to Cedar’s warning about touching the boat’s trees. “Scoot over,” she added, and made a shooing motion with her hands.

Mia shoved toward the wall, and she flopped down next to her. They lay side by side, looking up at the ceiling for a long while, each lost in thought.

“You know,” Taryn finally said after a long while. “Getting such an easy audience to the Dominus is rather peculiar. We do have a pecking order here, and acolytes aren’t high on it. Potential acolytes even less so. I myself have never been privy to a meeting of the general assembly, and I’ve been here almost two cycles. Are you sure there’s nothing your father may have neglected to tell you?”

“All my life he’s been my guidepost, but now I really don’t know anymore.” When Mia frowned and bit her lip, Taryn grabbed her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

12
The Brig

Lumin Cycle 10152

“This
would be perfect
to slip inside my pallet at night to keep my feet warm against the deep chill of the Compound,” Mia Jayne said, as she handed Brother Cornelius a bowl of stew, a crusty loaf of bread, and a spoon.

She was referring to yet another of the cleric’s ingenious gourds that he called cakes. This one was flat and mimicked a miniature hearth. When agitated, it warmed instantly and remained so for hours as the heat slowly dissipated.

More than a month had passed since she had arrived at the Order. She had largely settled into a routine at the Archives, but Brother Cornelius was still able to surprise her with his ingenuity.

“My child, what an excellent idea,” he replied, beaming with disproportionate pride. “These old toes are practically numb as it is. How could I not have thought of that myself?”

“Well, I came here from the tropical hammocks,” she said with a shrug. “I’m quite unused to this chill, and I fear I won’t ever adjust. I cling to every scrap of warmth I can find!”

Brother Cornelius chuckled. “I promise to bring you a cake on the morrow then. We shall both be testers for this new idea of yours. The cakes have only a few good uses in them. The chemical reaction required is quite strong, even though the heat is fairly mild.” He patted the cake to gauge its warmth. “This one here is on its last use, I daresay.”

“So you’ll toss it then?” Mia thought about cutting it open to look inside.

“No, no, cakes are also excellent for eating,” he said, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. “Under the tough exterior is a tender, spicy meat. If you’ve been wondering what gives our stew that special kick, I slip all my exhausted cakes to Brother Borus, and he uses them in his recipes.”

Mia raised an eyebrow at that confession. She actually had been wondering how they got that deep, hearty flavor into the stew. It settled into her stomach and sank into her bones, warming her from the inside.

“Don’t be telling anyone that bit of trivia now.” Brother Cornelius’s eyes twinkled at her. “Brother Borus likes to pass that off as a secret of his cooking prowess.”

She laughed heartily. She certainly enjoyed the old man’s company, but her good cheer hinged more on the fact that, for the first time since she’d arrived at the Compound, the acolytes were going to be allowed outside tonight.

“Are you attending the Gathering?” she asked Cornelius. A smile still played at her lips.

He swallowed a bite of the stew he’d been enjoying and shook his head slowly. “Even with the night lights at their apex, it’ll be too dark for my old eyes, child. I have some of the other clerics gathering on my behalf, I’m afraid.” He spoke with a wistful tone. “I do miss the bountiful variety of foliage, but at least I still enjoy the night lights from my laboratory on clear evenings.”

The night lights were magical, but Mia truly missed the forest’s dense press of life teeming all around her. That was the true source of her excitement.

“Well, if there’s anything else you forgot to instruct the clerics about, I’d be glad to assist,” she said, as she tidied the surrounding table, putting away the wands and readying to leave. “If not, I think I’ll be off so I can prepare for the festivities. Taryn, Cedar, and I have made plans to attend together.”

“You’ve done enough for one day, my child,” Brother Cornelius said, as he scooped up a bit of stew on a piece of crusty bread. He smacked his lips in anticipation but paused. “That said, I’m glad to hear you’re getting on with some of the other acolytes.”

Mia smiled again at the old brother, nodded in a slight bow, and departed out the great wooden entry to the corridor beyond. As usual the hallway was empty. The Archives were situated in a low-traffic area of the Compound.

She walked slowly along the corridor, as she often did on her way back to the barracks, savoring her last moments of privacy before coming under the scrutiny of her peers. She ran her hand along the cold stone, looking for warm patches. She’d been taking private moments when available to seek out the elder grove.

In the last four weeks, she’d managed to extract a little bit of information from Cedar regarding how the root system conduits functioned. She was certain the major corridors joined ancillary ones accessible by tunnels. The ancillary corridors were well hidden; she supposed it was to preserve the stark aesthetics of the Compound.

She sighed. Aesthetics was subjective, and her tastes differed drastically. The Order wouldn’t stand for greenery, though, at least not in any corridors she’d been down. She approached a fork in the corridor. The left fork led to the barracks, and the right led down a dark hallway to a part of the Compound she hadn’t yet explored. As she approached the fork, she peered down the right corridor. It was a black hole descending into the earth. After stopping to listen for any footsteps or other telltale noises, she ducked down the right corridor. Now was as good a time as any to have a peek.

She pulled a small, old gourd from the pocket of her sash and tapped it against the corridor wall with a slight thrum. The gourd hummed, the noise thin in the stone hallway. A weak yellow light emanated from the fruit. It would have to do. She urged her eyes to adjust by closing them briefly and felt along the edge of the wall. She stepped carefully down the decline of the tunnel, her eyes slowly acclimating to her surroundings.

With the rhythm of her downward steps, Mia gained confidence and walked quickly toward the bottom, her slippers almost noiseless on the stone floor. The stone walls grew warmer against her hand as she descended into the darkness. The farther she walked, the more the walls took on a sheen not present in the higher levels. Some sort of film covered them. She felt it as well as saw it; it was almost like a fine moss against her fingers. She brushed her hand lightly over it and paused. There it was. A very faint hum. She pressed her ear close to the wall, and the noise grew stronger.

Mia marveled at the texture and fine quality of the moss. It was completely unlike anything she’d seen or felt before. By the time she reached the bottom of the descent, the moss had thickened and now covered the walls and ceiling of the corridor. It hummed ever so slightly in every direction, the sound comforting her.

She continued along the corridor, cautious in her movements, waiting for the tunnel to open into a room or split off, but it continued on as it was for quite some time. Then, suddenly, the hum grew louder. It deepened and reverberated through her body, squeezing her heart gently and relaxing her muscles.

It almost sounds like the forest. Almost.

She stopped and stood with her ear close to the mossy wall. At the point where the hum was the strongest, she rapped her knuckles lightly along the wall, methodically from side to side, starting near her head and moving back and forth and slowly downward along the point of concentration. There was no discernible change in the feel or sound of the stone. She was almost ready to give up in frustration when one of her slippers came in contact with a particularly squishy piece of moss near the ground.

Crouching near the stone floor, careful not to step on her robes, Mia pressed her hand along the mossy bottom of the floor. Where her slipper had given, her hand did as well. It sank into the moss with an odd sensation, and she rooted around among the slick green until she found a hole in the stone wall. She groped urgently and felt out the edge of a square shape in the corridor wall.

It was a bit larger than the width of her shoulders, slightly taller than her crouched figure, and completely disguised by the spongy moss.
Ingenious!
She pushed on the moss at the center of the hole experimentally, tentatively at first then with greater force. She squeezed her eyes closed, expecting to hear a ripping noise. Instead the moss gave way under her fingers. As if burrowing through a thicket, her hand slipped past the moss, and warm air swirled past her elbow on the other side. Mia stared at her arm, which was stuck in the moss, and twisted it back and forth. It moved freely. She pulled it out slowly, expecting to leave a hole. To her surprise, when she’d fully extricated her arm, the hole sucked itself closed. She saw no sign that anything had passed through it at all. She touched the surface of the moss again, and it sprang against her palm just as before.

“Amazing,” she uttered quietly. “Just brilliant. This must be one of the access tunnels.”

Her heart thumped in her chest at the prospect of getting a peek at the complex system that ran the Compound. She took a deep breath and leaned her head and shoulders into the moss. As with her hand, it stretched against her cheek. It was soft and fresh smelling, like when she had rubbed her face into the grass as a child. The moss gave way, but before she was able to open her eyes on the other side, footsteps resonated along the passage.

Nervous excitement dissolved instantaneously into panic. Mia wasn’t sure where the footsteps were coming from or where they were going, but she retreated back into the corridor. She pushed herself with such force that she came out of the moss too far on her heels and lost her balance, collapsing hard on her rear end with a thud. The footsteps quickened, and to Mia’s horror, Brother SainClair’s face appeared around the corner. She tried to scramble to her feet, but it was too late. He’d already spotted her.

She cringed as the roar emanated from SainClair’s lips. His boots slammed on the hard stone as he bored down on her. She braced herself for the impact of a blow. Instead he grabbed her by the neck and dragged her to her feet.

“You! What are you doing snooping around this part of the Compound?” he yelled into her turned face then shook her roughly.

Mia instinctively tried to squirm away from his grip. “I was lost,” she said quickly, trying not to stutter. Her eyes were still averted. She had to think quickly. Saying that she was trying to head back to the barracks wouldn’t work. Everyone knew where those were.
Think, Mia.

SainClair sneered, shaking her again. She was already wary of him, already hated him for how he had alienated her from the others, but now she was terrified of him. His eyes held a manic glint, and his hair was wild. There was something not right about him.

“You expect me to believe that, pretender?” he said with another growl, squeezing her neck tighter. “Do you know where you are stumbling about?”

She didn’t for certain but had every intention of finding out.

“I was looking for Brother Cornelius’s laboratory.” The thought popped into her mind with relief. “He sent me to fetch him some additional wands for tomorrow.” Her voice wavered, but she pressed on. “I’ve yet to visit the laboratory, so I got mixed up. Where are we exactly?”

She immediately regretted that last bit, which engendered nothing but additional rage. Brother SainClair’s grip on her neck didn’t loosen even a fraction of an iota.

“The laboratories are higher in the Compound,” he growled. “Are you a half-wit as well as a liar?”

Sweat trickled slowly down her sides under her robes. “I must have gone down instead—” Her voice was cut off as his viselike grip on her throat tightened. She tried to breathe, but nothing filled her lungs.

“You know what I think?” he asked casually, as if he weren’t choking the life out of her. “I think you were down here snooping around, trying to figure out a way to bring the Order down. I think you were spying on us.” His harsh, sharp face appeared ghostly white in the dim light. His scruffy jaw looked like that of weird bird with blond hairs protruding from around its angular beak, and the cold fire in his pale-blue eyes made it clear that he wasn’t jesting. He really thought Mia was a spy.

There was no way for her to contain the quaver that shuddered through her body.

Brother SainClair narrowed his eyes as if he took her shaking as a sign that he was correct. “You know what we do to spies, don’t you?”

“Yeh…” She tried to speak but was still unable to draw a breath. His grip loosened only enough to let her lungs fill with air. She took a few ragged gulps but still was unable to form words.

“You’ll soon find out.” He didn’t elaborate.

Mia’s dizziness ebbed with each gasp. At least he wasn’t going to kill her right here in the hallway.

“The Order required my presence at the Compound,” she said through gulps of air, regaining her composure and trying to add a bit of logic to his outlandish claims. “I didn’t choose to be here. Whether my father really did write that letter or whether Dominus Nikola made it up, being here wasn’t my wish. Why would I be spying?”

At her reference to Nikola, SainClair’s face grew darker. “You accuse the Dominus of lying?” He shook Mia again but mercifully didn’t tighten his grip on her neck.

“Er, I was making the point that I’m not here of my own accord.”

“I grow tired of your lies and excuses.” He turned her away from him, his hand still firmly on her neck, and forced her along the hallway. Her feet raced to stay ahead of him and avert any further pain.

Where is he taking me?

He shoved Mia back up the tunnel, and they took the fork toward the barracks. Maybe he was just sending her there. Her optimistic thoughts were dashed when they took a right turn before reaching the dormitory entrance. This turn led down a particularly narrow passage that was exceptionally long and sloped back downward. After a long while, the ground finally leveled out at a slightly wider tunnel. Spaced along this tunnel were gourds that illuminated metal doors set into the stone walls along both sides. Brother SainClair pushed her along past a couple of the doors.