Scand’s enthusiastic bounciness somewhat mitigated the seriousness of the adults. Lapis had no idea whether to tell him to tamp it down or ignore it. Patch solved the dilemma by planting a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, and moving on. He did deflate—if shoulders dipping counted as deflating.
Vision shuffled them through another golden corridor before taking a wide, undecorated way with dings and cracks in the walls—a service hallway. Spring’s legs brushed the sides, but she and Tia made it through. Lapis wondered why the fortune teller took them that way; a larger walking space would be nicer for the terron.
“I hate this place.”
She looked over at Patch; his patch whirled with blue light, but his relaxed muscles meant he did not sense danger. She reached over and squeezed his hand; he quirked a smile, his thumb stroking the back of her hand before he released it.
“This is an ode to the fucked-up nature of really rich people. Look how much money he wasted on this travesty, and for what? Hurting a khentauree that just wanted to walk outside? Forcing a woman to die tied to floating discs in hopes of making a god answerable to him?”
“I think it was a test run. He went crazy because he realized his own desire for eternity died with her.”
He hmphed, then nodded. “Probably. All that pain, all the continuing harm, in service of a demented shit who thought wealth made him a deity.”
“We can help alleviate some of that.”
“Yeah, centuries late.” His eyes flickered to the front. “How many other places like this are there? Where the ultra-rich have a playground of inhumanity and governments and religions and every other organization that’s supposed to keep people safe ignore it because money speaks louder than compassion and justice.”
“That’s why we’re chasers.”
“That’s why I’ll follow your brother until the day I die.”
Retribution, on a rebellious scale.
They exited into a room that did not scream extravagance, but rather plush. Deteriorating cushions covered chairs and sofas. Leather pinned to the large central table and a corner writing desk provided a softer surface. Accent tables had blanket-heavy cloths covering them, the edges broken, though no small bits coated the brittle carpet. The soft pink of the décor and the flower wallpaper accented the golden hue of the wood, which still shined despite looking frail. Lapis would not dare sit, afraid whichever she chose would collapse under her in a heady puff of dust.
Instead of tech lights, the white glass lampshades had multiple candles stuck in the center. Interesting, that much of the workstation still had extant lighting, but this room did not.
“Hey, Sanna, can you ask Vision where they get the lights? The underground parts of Jiy have tiles that glow naturally, but here, most of the rooms have tech lights, and they haven’t died.”
Sanna glanced at her, then buzzed. The fortune teller swiveled her head around, then eyed Lapis as she replied.
“Vision says that Maphezet Kez hoarded supplies. He expected the Stars to burn the Taangis Empire to ash, and he purchased many things that were to keep the workstation active until the world straightened itself out. They do not light all places, but they must keep the Cloister proper in working order. They steal the rest.”
“So they have contact with humans?”
“She says no. Khentauree sneak away with supplies. There is a town of only warehouses to the west, and the guards are lazy. They take from there.”
Only warehouses? Lapis glanced at her partner; he shrugged. They needed to ask an Abastion rebel about it when they reunited. Did they, too, have ghost stories concerning khentauree? Interesting, if so.
Patch narrowed his eye. “I can see this cult turning apocalyptic,” he muttered. “Supplies aplenty for the end of the world.”
“That might explain why he bought parts of ruins. He was saving them from annihilation.”
Tia shook her head and signed. Scand looked at them. “Tia says something smells nasty,” he said. “Like especially strong cleaning fluid.”
Sanna buzzed again, and Vision answered as she took them through the left-hand wall which, at one point, must have divided the pink room from the one next to it, but no longer.
“She says the khentauree must keep the rooms clean for Maphezet Kez and Ree-god’s return. Like with Ree-god, only certain of them maintain the inner rooms.”
“This was Ree-god’s room?”
“She says no, that other followers lived in these. Maphezet Kez and Ree-god and their closest followers had richer suites, more gold.”
Of course they did.
The next room Lapis found more interesting. The dark teal color scheme highlighted the surprisingly bright posters that filled every inch of the wall. Men and women, some photographs, some drawn, standing in heroic poses and dressed in various outfits, stood in front of explosions and battle scenes. Some wore skin-tight, colorful attire that looked uncomfortable, some dressed in plate armor not worn by peoples on Theyndora since before the Taangin invasion. Some had odd bobbly things on their heads and weird poofy shoulder pads and hems. Some held ancient incarnations of tech weapons, bulky and black, while others clutched whips, swords, axes, hammers.
Whatever the individuals wore or held, all the pictures emphasized muscular men and women with less clothing. As Scand's interest attested, some of the street rats would love the place, and she sighed, annoyed that not much had changed in the six-hundred-plus years after the Taangis Empire’s existence.
They continued through a hallway, brightly lit but with a chunk of the wall missing. Wires hung from the hole, wrapped in colorful tape. A smell wafted from it, but not the cleaning fluid that pummeled Tia’s nostrils. More mildewy.
Sliding doors stood ajar and opened into a spacious room the size of a warehouse. Their footfalls echoed from gilded panels that reflected the enormous chandeliers, the glinting golden chairs, sofas, tables, vases, set on deteriorating, tarnished gold carpet rounds. The gaps between the circular clusters reminded Lapis of a restaurant arrangement, though she did not notice any utensils, glasses or dishware.
Motion caught her attention; khentauree raced to them, cyan erupting in the middle of their foreheads.
“MEKOT! Kredi un Maphezet Kez! Medoaa keethem ba vara!” she shouted.
Only half stumbled to a halt. The rest chittered in unison and galloped towards them.
“MEKOT! Mevoto dees!”
Tia stepped in front as five beams streaked to them. They sizzled on impact, and the terron roared before swiping at the nearest mechanical being; the khentauree tumbled across the floor and slid into the wall. They did not rise, but whether broken or affected by her commands, she did not know.
“Krealti narjill zank. Ree-god ma nadaashi.” She attempted Chiddle’s inflection but did not think she succeeded. Vision buzzed, loud, and the thunder of hooves dulled to a clicking trot.
A piercing screech blared through the room. Lapis slapped her hands over her ears; Scand bent over, wincing, and Tia hunched, whining in pain. The khentauree halted their attack, and Vision streaked to the far end of the room and the open double doors. They followed, though Lapis thought her eardrums might explode when the noise increased.
Sanna kicked the doors shut after them, muffling the intensity. Lapis’s head throbbed, and by the look of the others, so did theirs. Tia kept shaking her head, and she set a hand on her back leg.
“Are you alright?”
She did not respond. Had the sound hurt her?
Scand hopped in front of her and signed; she replied, and worry wrinkled his face.
“She says her ears are still ringing, and she’s hearing nothing else.”
“We don’t have time to stop,” Patch said, pointing. Vision was far down the white-tiled corridor. Jhor, Sanna and Linz raced after her, while the rest of them kept Tia company. Her partner took the rear, tech weapon ready, so Lapis reluctantly slipped hers from her shoulder and trotted into the lead. Her last use of it only enraged her target rather than taking him out, but she did not particularly wish to indulge in a hand-to-hand duel with a code-crazed khentauree, either.
They walked another service corridor, with dents, chips, broken tile and flickering lights, before entering a hall of brown wooden paneling and umber tiles with gold veins. Golden hoops lined the right-hand way, tech lights positioned to create reflections off the shiny surfaces. Lapis squinted through the brightness, covered her eyes with her hand as if to blot out the sun, and shuffled through. Patch muttered something indistinct but overflowing with revulsion; she might have asked about it, but she spotted Linz waving to them beyond the brightness and hustled to them.
The hoops led to a normal room. That shocked her; no bright gold, no rich décor, no pictures. To each side of a broad walkway, tech equipment filled the walls; buttons glowed, symbols ran up screens, levers and gadgets and knobs decorated metallic surfaces. A faint whir and cold air came from grates in the ceiling.
Sanna already leaned over one of the right-hand consoles, Jhor flanking her. Chairs that must have sat in the way clustered against a grey, perforated block, their metal and plastic construction looking sound, though a few had twine holding armrests in place. Other seats remained under desks, and square, grey metal containers that she assumed were wastebaskets stood to the side, each shining as if recently cleaned.
Three gaps in the crowd of tech were doorways, all wide enough for Tia, all closed. Non-illuminated signs above had writing on them, but since she did not read the ancient language, she had no idea what they said.
The tech screens to the left had views of various places throughout the Cloister. Lapis recognized the waterfall and the large picture room. In Ree-god’s crypt, khentauree milled within, some pounding on the partition but unable to breach the glass and reach the collapsed body. Vision regarded them, one leg bent back and the hoof tapping, as if the images bothered her.
It bothered Lapis, too. How many more mechanical beings were there, that had not heard her commands to go rest?
Jhor stepped back as Sanna straightened. She hummed, and Vision turned from the screens. They had a quick exchange before she returned to the console.
“Lyddisian, Meergeven, and the translation hub are downloading to all linked khentauree. The interference slows the speed with coded resin, so it may fail for those far from a transmission node. There are thirty-three hundred units, many more than at Ambercaast.”
“They weathered the centuries better,” Jhor said. “But that might be because they were told to care for this place, including themselves. They weren’t allowed to go to silence.” He motioned to the terron and her charge. “Let’s get Spring settled, and Linz and I will see what we can do about her leg and Tia’s hearing.”
“What about Ree’s codes?” Patch asked.
“Sanna needs to find them first. While I know Gedaavik’s code and can read and speak some bits of Taangin, she can do it quicker.”
“Then we need to keep other khentauree out of this room.”
Sanna buzzed and Vision answered before trotting to the doorway and setting her hand next to the frame. Sliding doors zipped closed, and an ominous click resounded through the room. Of course, if upset khentauree knew the placement of the panels, they would easily get inside.
“That code is nice.” The metallic voice coming from Vision had sultry, cajoling tones, as if a seductive character in a play spoke with the main heartthrob. Had she chosen it, like the khentauree selected names? She sounded far different from the Ambercaast mechanical beings. “It feels of Gedaavik.”
“It’s based on his work,” Jhor said as he and Patch slid Spring from Tia’s back. “I just updated his hub to link modern languages into the wired set. I couldn’t have done it, though, if the Ambercaast khentauree had not kept up with changes in Jilvaynan.”
“Ambercaast khentauree are special,” Vision said. “The Ghost of ghosts is an aspiration.”
Sanna’s head rotated, and Lapis had the impression she did not like what the other khentauree said. Because she mentioned Ghost? How did she even know about him? Had Gedaavik said something when he visited? Or did Ree talk about him?
Vision opened the door to the left. It led to a stark room with random tech devices, cabinets and tables, much like the previous one used for injured khentauree. Jhor hustled inside and slammed his pack onto a metal tabletop to scrounge for tools as Tia settled Spring on another empty surface.
“Are the other doors locked?” her partner asked, peeking around the jamb as the terron backed out of the room.
“The outer, yes. The khentauree of the inner Cloister will listen to the sermon and then return to chasing us.”
“The sermon?”
“The noise in the dining hall. That is the Stars’ Prophet of Light conducting a sermon. They do so many times a week.”
Lapis frowned. “There are still people here?” She did not have that impression.
“No.”
So the Stars’ Prophet was like Ree-god, a dead human whose influence still screwed the khentauree.
“How long will it last?”
“Sermons vary.”
“What’s behind the other doors?”
“Access.”
Well, Vision was a helpful sort. Annoyed at her cynicism, Lapis padded to Scand, who signed with Tia.
“How’s her hearing?”
“She says the ringing is going away, but it’s slow. She’s concerned the noise might have damaged her ears.”
Jhor joined them, holding a palm-sized screen with a bendy wire that ended in a round grey ball. “Tia, I’m going to put this in your ear. Cassa says it’s meant for general injury detection, but we should get a better idea about any harm the sound caused.”
Tia blinked at him, then Scand signed what he said. She nodded and turned her head so he could reach the oval ear canal. He slipped the ball inside and the screen lit. He tapped on it a few times before moving to the other ear, then sighed, relieved.
“Your eardrums and membranes are a tad inflamed, but I don’t think there’s major damage,” he said. “Hopefully the ringing will go away by the end of the day.” He carefully removed the ball and Tia sagged, relieved. “Scand, you’re going to have to be her ears for a little while yet.”
The rat nodded, solemn in his acceptance of the duty.
“How are you doing?” Lapis asked him as Jhor hustled over to Spring and Linz.
He glanced at Tia, then shrugged, his face blank enough that she knew he hid his reaction. “The khentauree were scarier than the ones in the cave.”
“There were more of us in the cave, so the odds evened out.” She slipped her arm around his shoulders and squeezed. Tia must have realized he needed comfort, too, because she settled her large claw against his other side. Lapis smiled. “But don’t worry. Khentauree are no match for Tia.”
Scand signed, and the terron nodded in firm agreement.
“You did send that khentauree into the wall,” he admitted, signing with the spoken words. Tia waved a claw and snorted, as if the action were hardly mentionable, then winked at the teen.
“Ask Lapis about her first chase mission,” Patch said. The rat perked up at the mention, while Lapis wished an unfortunate case of sudden silence on her smirking partner.
“Not funny,” she grumbled.
“It was hilarious.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
Scand smiled wide enough to make a cat proud. She knew that look; he would wait for the appropriate time, then corner Patch about the tale. At least pondering what might have happened should keep him occupied while they waited for tech whatever to happen.
