The Mirrored City (34 page)

Over her shoulder she spied the Archean sky ship, which was still a point of interest for the public.

“
Where are you now?
” Heath’s voice sounded in Shannon’s ears.

She struggled to reply. It was difficult controlling her own voice without speaking through her vessel. Distantly, she heard herself mutter, “
On patrol. Heading toward the bookshop
.”

“
What’s wrong with her eyes?
This is creepy as fuck, Heath
,” the repellant mage said.

Lyta’s voice replied, “
Shannon’s power is a tremendous gift you would do well to respect
.”

“
Whatever
.”

Shannon followed her host’s partner as they walked the streets of Dessim, eyes drifting to a clothing shop that had a beautiful blue and black lace dress in the window. She made a mental note to buy one later. As her partner turned to patrol the restaurant district, she took control for an instant, reaching out and brushing her hands against a young man in shabby shoes selling a basket of flowers.

Going from Patrean to human was a jarring decline in physical stamina. Her people were engineered to be stronger and healthier. Humans were born however they were born, for good or ill. She knew every inch of his body, and the scrawny flower seller had inherited little to recommend him. But as a vessel, he could weave his way through the streets to the bookstore.

She brushed her hand against any pedestrian in reach. Each touch created another node for her to explore. Her perception bled out across the city, moving from body to body as they touched each other. Shannon lost herself in a sea of sensation.

“
Where are you now?
” Heath’s voice interrupted her meditation.

Shannon replied, “
Everywhere. I’m surrounding the bookstore.”

“
Can you send someone in?
” Heath inquired gently.

“Man or woman?” Shannon asked.

“
Woman
,” Heath replied. “
Daphne is a strong fighter, but she underestimates women, especially younger women. The prettier the better.
”

Shannon felt out through her matrix of connected bodies and chose one who was willowy and beautiful. She was like Lyta, but with straight black hair and lighter skin. Shannon focused all of her senses into the one body and let the others wander off.

“Where are you going, Sasia?” another young girl called.

Shannon found her voice in the appropriated skin. “I have to do something. I’ll catch up with you.”

She stepped toward the bookshop and tried the knob. The sign said closed, but the door opened and she stepped inside.

The interior of the bookstore was trashed. Books lay on the floor amid shattered tables. The door to the back room was where Heath said it would be. She marched toward the back like she was looking for assistance.

“Hello?” she called out softly.

A furious racket of screams and smashing wood erupted behind the door, like someone was rolling an end table down a flight of stairs during a shouting match.

Heath’s voice, almost too distant to hear. “
What’s happening
?”

Shannon swung the door open and looked inside. She froze in the doorway.

A dark-skinned woman in glowing armor was slashing furiously at a piece of the chimera looming over her. The moldering shreds of the cloak flapped about as the creature danced around her pounding with its fists. It had one arm covered in pustules and another arm was skeletal with a fleshy hand on the end of it.

“
Shannon? Talk to me.
”

She looked around the room. It was another library with a floor covered in a circle of arcane-looking runes. They were glowing red.

She glanced around furtively. There. A young man cowered behind a stack of books. His eyes were blue as the sky and wide with fear.

“Soren,” Shannon called out. “Run!”

The battle paused as all three of them looked at her. The hooded thing screeched from behind its obscuring cowl, but she could imagine what kind of horrible face lurked there. Daphne’s scarred face was puzzled; her brow was sweaty and her eyes registered panic. Soren ducked behind the books, trying to make himself as small as possible.

The chimera, or one third of what was left of it, took the opportunity to swat the side of Daphne’s head and hurl her against the runes on the floor. The room exploded in red light, knocking Shannon flat on her back. The body couldn’t move.

She retracted her senses to the next available host. It was like the lights in the room went out, and she moved to another part of her domain: a stocky man shopping for boots in an adjacent shop. She bolted out the door.

The shopkeeper yelled, “You have to pay for those! Thief!”

She ignored him and tore around to the bookshop. Sasia’s body lay limp and convulsing on the ground. She stepped over it and peered into the room. Daphne lay face first on the floor, twitching. The chimera was gone, and the glowing runes were just plain white chalk.

The pile of books Soren had sought for refuge was scattered. Her brother was nowhere in sight.

“
The creature was here.
Daphne is hurt, and Soren is gone,
” Shannon reported through her own body.

“
What about the Sword?
” Maddox asked.

Shannon looked around. She saw a scabbard on Daphne’s hip. A jeweled Sword hilt rested in the sheath with a silk scarf wrapped around the Sword handle. “
It’s here.
”

“
Grab it,
” Maddox insisted.

“
Don’t touch the hilt,
” Heath cautioned. “
Grab the blade or use something to pick it up with.
”

Shannon nodded, realizing only afterward that no one could actually see her doing so. “
I’ll get it.
”

She made her way over to the Abbess. “
A magical red light went off. She’s twitching, and there’s another girl who was hit. Will she be okay?
”

“
Yes
,” Heath said. “
It’s a nasty spell, but I know exactly what she used. It will wear off. You need to get back here with the Sword before it does.
”

“
I should just kill her,
” Shannon said.

“
Shannon, don’t.”
Lyta’s voice, full of concern.

“
You killed people, Lyta,”
Shannon said. “
She kidnapped my brother and put him in danger.
I’m protecting my—our family.
”

“It’s not like killing Fodders. She’s a real person.
”

Shannon’s chest tightened. Her mother was a Fodder. They weren’t the same under the law, but how was it right to value one life more than another?

Heath’s voice. “
She was my mentor. I will tell you the same thing she told me. ‘I can’t ask you to be a killer. There is no going back from it, but you will face no judgment from me or anyone for doing what needs to be done. This decision will define you for the rest of your life. Are you someone who does what’s merciful or someone who does what’s just?
’”

Maddox’s voice. “
But you had already smoked a fuckload of people before the Inquisition, Heath.
”

“
Those were crimes of passion and greed. To kill with purpose is to become the hand of justice and shape the world.
”

Maddox’s voice. “
Guides, just pinch her nose and cover her mouth. I don’t agree with Heath on any of his bullshit, but in this one particular case, you’ll be doing the world a favor.
”

Shannon knelt down beside Daphne’s shivering body. Her face was bloody, her eyes rolled back in her head. “
I wonder if I can stop her heart if I take control
.”

Lyta pleaded, “
Please… don’t. Just take the Sword. You don’t want blood on your hands. You’re too good for this.
”

“
They’re not my hands
,” Shannon mused out loud, examining her meaty palms. She cared nothing for the woman on the floor, truth be told. But because of her, that horrible creature had Shannon’s brother.

Still, she hesitated. Ohan was the god of life and healing. Though her prayers were seldom sincere, she had been taught from birth to embrace peace. She had learned to show love to her fellow believers above all others, but that love would also make faithful of the heretics. War and murder were things conducted by soulless Patrean proxies like the confessors who plied their trade in torture.

She suddenly realized she could do whatever she wanted without consequence. She could be anyone at any time, and no one would ever trace it back to her. She was more powerful than she ever imagined and she held a life in her stolen hands.

Two long roads lay ahead of her, leading in vastly different directions.

“Fuck it,” Shannon swore for the first time in her life. “I’ll make my own path.”

She reached toward Daphne…

Shannon’s head slammed against the wall, sending red shockwaves of pain through her skull. Blood dripped into her left eye as the flash of lightning blinded her and the sound of booming thunder rumbled the floor. She pressed her hands to her bleeding face.

“Chimera!” Heath screamed. “Maddox, Lyta, hold it still!”

“Trying,” Maddox grunted.

Another crash of broken furniture.

Lyta growled, “Get the fuck away from her, you—”

“Where did she go?” Heath asked urgently.

“It’s a fucking teleporter. How the fuck should I—”

Silence.

“What’s happening?” Shannon asked. Her head hurt, and the pain was too intense, too sudden to focus. Everything had happened so fast.

“Shannon.” Heath ran over to her. “Get behind me. I need you to sense where—”

Silence.

Shannon shut her eyes as tightly as possible. She knew she was alone. And then she sensed she was not alone. A hand brushed against her head. She could feel long fingernails, but too many fingers to be a human hand. She was on her own, and she needed to fight.

Fight, Shannon, fight it.

It grabbed her head and slammed it against the wall…

Try to connect. It has senses.

…and slammed again.

You can do this.

Slam.

Take control.

SLAM.

And darkness.

T
HIRTY-
O
NE

War Council

J
ESSA

Each Tempest is blessed with a unique gift from Kultea. Perhaps the most interesting accounts are those of Virana, who was a scholar of physiology before an unfortunate chain of assassinations placed her upon the Coral Throne.

She believed that electricity was not just an elemental phenomenon but was present in all life, that the brain was nothing different from the Everstorm on a smaller scale. It was said that she could make others dance like puppets for her amusement.

When she became Tempest, it was also whispered that she could give a parody of life to the dead. Rumors are whispered of chimeras, stitched from the flesh of the recently dead, raised as her servants.

Her reign, while brief, was regarded as one of the most fearsome in the Imperial line. She was succeeded by Arrix the Unstable, the wind walker.

—A HISTORIE OF TEMPESTS, VOLUME XII

JESSA LOOKED OUT
across her trusted advisors: Her aunt Sireen, the bubbly vivacious schemer who cradled Torin in her arms. To her left was Pisclatet, the passively insulting obsequious schemer. Cameron, the father of Jessa’s son and traitor to his nation, stroked his graying beard. Beside him sat Turnbull, a very sweet plump man who enjoyed court drama far too much, waving a perfumed fan. Finally, there was Warmaster Joy, the comically misnamed Patrean general who hid anything resembling a personality behind her martial demeanor.