“No point staying longer than we have to,” I say eventually. Hearing the anxiety in my voice. “Ready?” I wait for her tense acknowledgement, then loudly, “Miseram pacem vel bello bene mutari.”
Nothing for a second. Five.
Aequa shifts. “Well. That was—”
A grinding sound. Motion.
We both flinch back as white light bursts from the centre of the hall; unlike when I was here last, this isn’t a gradual coalescing but rather an explosion, streaming upward to form the outline of a person. At the same time the upper layer of the floor ripples, as though the stone has suddenly become water, thousands of perfectly fitting triangular tiles suddenly revealing themselves as they shift and rearrange in front of us, trickling together in the icy glow to grow and form a pillar in front of the white figure.
I watch, heart in throat, instinctively checking my self-imbuing. But just as abruptly, it’s over. Everything motionless again. The corpses on their slabs unmoving, unspeaking. Eyes still closed.
At an unspoken signal, Aequa and I creep forward, toward the glowing silhouette.
“Some kind of device.” It seems obvious as we get closer. The white outline has its hands touching the pillar.
“For what?” Aequa watches me uneasily.
I let out a long breath. “I suppose that’s what we’re here to find out.”
“I’m sure it’s crossed your mind, but youdoremember that Lanistia tried to kill you, right?”
It’s more than crossed my mind, over the past few days. “I remember. Don’t worry. She was herself when she told me about this.” I sound more confident than I feel, but we’ve come this far now. I walk cautiously into the light. Theshimmering profile dissolves, leaving only me in its place. “If something goes wrong, though, don’t hesitate. You run.”
Before I can second-guess myself further, I place my hand on the column.
Nothing happens.
I frown. Glance back at Aequa, who shrugs.
Pain.
Pain ricocheting through my head. Blinding. I can’t even scream. The stone in the pillar is moving again, rippling, crawling over my hand and wrapping it in a grip I cannot break. Some corner of my mind registers the room around me flickering as I fall to my knees. Aequa running toward me. She shimmers. I can see through her. She’s gone. I am alone in here with the corpses.
“Obiteum is lost. Do not open the gate. Synchronous is death.” The words rip from my mouth. I gasp them into the emptiness. They’re all I know. I have to warn them. Anyone who comes in. “Obiteum is lost. Do not open the gate. Synchronous is death.” The stone is flowing upward, covering more of my arm. Past my elbow. I cannot pull away.
The fire in my head clears just enough to feel the connection, now. To feel the corpses. Every single one in the room. I almost vomit. They’re full of Will, but this isn’t like what I did in the Iudicium or during the chariot race. It’s a confusion of information and sensation. Incomprehensible. Overwhelming. “Obiteum is lost. Do not open the gate. Synchronous is death.”
Sweat stings my eyes. Every muscle in my body is taut, twitching, as if straining to expel some unseen force. I feel cool hands on my face but see no one. “Obiteum is lost. Do not open the gate. Synchronous is death.”
There’s something else. Amidst all that swirling sensation is purpose. Dormant. This message we’re all repeating isn’t why we’re here. “Obiteum is lost. Do not open the gate. Synchronous is death.”
I’m weakening. Fading. I have to do something. I use everything I have learned over the past two years. Harden myself, and focus solely on that underlying sense of function.
The pain fades, leaving only an echo.
Aequa is kneeling over me. My head cupped in her hands. Wide-eyed.
“These iunctii appear to be from not long after the Rending, and were once a key component in the gate defences in the Nexus. I have repurposed them for our fight, warrior,” I rasp at her. My throat feels like I’ve been screaming. MaybeI have. The rest of the room is deathly silent. “Their processing capability is limited due to the restrictions of thesanguis imperium, but the addition of a single active mind should be capable of temporarily interceding and allowing for Synchronism to occur. Do you wish to proceed?”
I stare wildly into Aequa’s eyes. Pleading with her to understand that it’s me, that I’m still here, even as the words tumble from my mouth. I don’t know what any of it means. No context. The pressure in my head is easing further, but it leaves exhaustion as well as relief. An indescribable weariness.
Aequa says something. Garbled. Meaningless.
As I fade to unconsciousness, I can’t help but feel vaguely annoyed that she didn’t run like I told her to.
XXXVIII
“YOU ARE STILL SULKING.”
