Chapter One
Wallside
The muted chime of the evening bells was all that could be heard in the little entryway, as the young man crossed the tiles to reach the courtyard. Outside, the bustle of the city streets continued unabated beneath the eternal twilight sky. The murmur of the guests in the ballroom past the empty flagstones rose and fell in a comfortable, familiar rhythm that echoed out past the archways. The wedding itself was long since over, the guests trickling out slowly as the family gathered around the new couple to congratulate them.
Truth had not been invited. He understood why, of course. But he did want to at least give his sister her wedding present, and now, with the party winding down, seemed his best chance to do so quietly. The courtyard was open to the sky, and a gentle breeze flitted through, ruffling his burnt amber hair as he walked towards the ballroom. He had decided not to wear his uniform, as it would be certain to set people off, and so he was wearing a simple buttoned shirt and slacks dug out of the back of his closet. Formal enough for a wedding, he hoped. Or at least for after a wedding.
He hesitated in one of the archways, realizing more people were still here than he’d anticipated. He didn’t see their parents in the crowd, thankfully, but Spoons was still chatting with her new husband’s parents, arm looped through his. Her blue eyes, so like Truth’s own, were bright with emotion. He watched, smiling fondly, as some comment from her new mother-in-law sent her into a fit of giggling. When the groom nudged her to point Truth out, she turned and called his name with delight.
“Truth! Oh my god, Truth, it’s so good to see you!”
So much for an unobtrusive entrance. He walked over quickly, dropping a kiss on his sister’s proffered cheek and handing her the wrapped package. She didn’t open it, setting it aside so she could take his hand, pulling at him as she said, “Look, there’s still cake! Do you want some?” She added with pride, “I baked it myself.”
Of course she had, a professional chef and baker wasn’t going to trust her wedding cake to someone else. A lopsided smile tugged at his face, and he replied, flattening his voice as he always did in public, “I was just stopping by on my way home to give you my best wishes- there’s really no need to-”
There was already a slice on a plate being proffered to him, and he couldn’t just say no to his sister’s baking. Everyone was politely ignoring his presence, so he accepted the plate. Hands on her hips, his sister was watching him expectantly. “Well, go on, try it!”
Light and fluffy, with hints of vanilla and cinnamon, it was definitely the best thing he’d tasted in weeks. The drizzled lemon icing was just tart enough to counter the sweetness of the cake, and before he realized it he’d wolfed the whole slice down. Spoons was delighted, of course, and there was already a second slice waiting for him. He tried to protest this one too, but she seemed determined to make the most of his company. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to stay for just a bit –
Behind him, he heard a slightly slurred voice speak, clearly pitched so he could hear. “My little Juanita has embraced her supernatural heritage! She’s already left to go back to her work, you know – I’m so proud of her, even if she won’t tell me the details for my safety. You don’t see her parading around with those overdressed thugs!”
It was definitely time to go. Spoons had heard, too, and didn’t protest when he said quietly, “Sorry, Spoonsy, looks like that’s my cue to leave. Have a good night-”
He turned, and was met with all five feet of his aunt’s swirling skirts and heavy perfume looking down her nose at him disdainfully, despite being a full foot shorter. She held a half-empty champagne glass delicately in one hand.
“Hello, Auntie Isabella. I… was just leaving…”
“Always taking the easy way out, aren’t you,” she sniffed. “Anyone else from the family would have at least tried to use conscientious objection to get out of being conscripted, but I guess that was too much work, hm? Couldn’t resist the free ride?”
He winced, but couldn’t reasonably object. He had gotten the best medical training available out of it, in addition to the other benefits. “I just came to wish my sister well at her wedding, Auntie, I’m not here to argue-”
“A wedding to which you weren’t invited, as I recall!” She wagged a disapproving finger at him. “You shouldn’t even be here, and you know it. Nobody likes you, and I don’t know why your sister still harbors any sympathy for a scumbag government dog like you.” Oh dear. The situation was rapidly deteriorating, and she was still blocking his exit.
“I’ll just… go now.”
He attempted to edge past her skirts, but that simple phrase was too much for her inebriated fury, and she reached out to grab the front of his shirt. “Oh, is that what you said after your people arrested my husband? ‘I’ll just go now, don’t want the family seeing what a rotten person I am-’”
Spoons had hold of their aunt’s arm now and was trying to calm her down, but she wrenched it free, shoving the champagne glass at the nearest person and rearing back to punch him. There wasn’t any way to avoid it, even as the rest of the family tried to intervene too, but he could at least roll with it so it wouldn’t do as much damage.
For an older, out of shape woman his aunt sure hit hard. He saw stars for a moment, and with a blink realized he was sitting on the floor. At least now he could stand up and hastily retreat back to the courtyard, brushing off his pants and combing back his hair with his fingers. He prodded his eye gingerly. It was already puffy, and would likely start turning black shortly, if it hadn’t already. And because so many people had seen him get hit, he would have to leave it alone…
“Truth!”
He turned at that voice. His sister clattered across the flagstones after him, her elaborate white skirts bundled up in her arms so she didn’t trip. She let go of them as she reached him, and the delicate material drifted gently back to the ground to resume its previous flowery shape.
“I’m so sorry, Spoons… I should have just left immediately. Your cake was amazing but I don’t think it was worth ruining your wedding for.”
Spoons snorted, her usual indelicate mannerisms looking out of place in all that finery, spun silver earrings swaying with the motion. “To be fair, Truth, that’s one of the better family interactions you’ve had recently. I’m not going to blame you for it.”
Truth sighed, running his hand through his hair again, letting his usual lilt creep back into his voice. “I don’t know why she always thinks using pretentious words like supernatural instead of plain old magic like regular people is going to put me in my place.”
She snorted again. “She’s always been that way, Truth, even when we were kids. She just didn’t used to aim it at us.” She added, taking his hand, “I still don’t understand why you don’t just tell the rest of the family, you know they can keep a secret.”
Truth glanced around. They were alone in the courtyard, but he lowered his voice anyway. “It’s not about whether they can keep it or not, it’s about how much scrutiny I get from my superiors as an officer. Even the slightest hint of anything unnatural and I’d lose my job, my commission, and my source of funds for my little clinic, as well as all the information I pass along – not to mention, they’d probably court-martial me and send me straight to prison if they found it was true. The family’s distaste for me is an unfortunate, but extremely convincing smokescreen, you know that.”
“You could always charge for the work at your clinic, you know.”
“And you know exactly how many people can’t afford that kind of care in the underground, Spoons, I couldn’t do that to them.”
He patted her arm, and said, “You’re lucky you don’t need to worry about any of that yourself. Sometimes I worry you’ll forget you ‘don’t know’ I’m talented though – I don’t want you getting tagged for concealing a magic-user either.”
“Truth-”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve been here too long as it is – I should get back to the clinic. It’s still the weekend, and people know that’s when they can see the surgeon instead of Cherry.”
He dropped another kiss on her cheek, and said, “Congrats, by the way. He’s a real catch.”
Spoons blushed and smiled at him, waving goodbye as he ducked out the entrance before anything else could happen.
Nightside
Oreo counted the buttons on the console again. There were exactly 47 of them, just the same as the last time, and the time before that… There was really no reason for her to be out here on this surveying trip, but B kept insisting on teaching her how to navigate planetside in the little hopper. She kept telling her, she hadn’t gotten it so she could fly through an atmosphere, but she knew somehow it would still end up being her turn to pilot on the way back. She watched the lights of another ice mining camp pass beneath them, one of the few visible features from up here nightside, then sighed, turning back to the cockpit.
“Are we there yet?”
“Nearly,” B replied, not turning, lights from the instruments edging her delicate plastic features. It was easier for her to just plug herself into the controls and interface directly – another reason Oreo didn’t think she needed to be along – and she was draped in cables pulled from under the cockpit’s sleek exterior. “The last survey team said there had been a ravine collapse and there might be something buried under the ice back here, but it wasn’t on their itinerary so they didn’t take a look.”
“I know,” Oreo said. “You told me when we left.”
“And I’m telling you again in case you weren’t paying attention the first time.”
“I still don’t see why we couldn’t just wait until we sent a regular team out and check it out then. Shards, Buttercup, this was supposed to be our day off.” Oreo flopped into the copilot’s seat and slouched, letting herself sprawl out into the space B wasn’t occupying. Her ponytail slid over the back of the chair in a messy black tangle. “You were just bored, weren’t you?”
“It was an excellent opportunity for you to practice flying without needing to worry about fuel conservation.”
The android’s fingers danced across the console, flipping switches and turning knobs with a graceful precision that Oreo envied. They were descending now, and she remembered to clip herself into the seat as a precaution. Their flight slowed to a hover, the craft turning gently to present them with the best view. Below them gaped the dark maw of the new crevasse, their lights tiny against its massive sheets of ice. She pulled out the binoculars. B was controlling the hopper, so Oreo’d be the one watching for anything interesting.
They descended for what seemed like miles. The entire bottom had fallen out of the old valley, it seemed – and there was still no sign of the ground.
“Do you think it reaches the core?” Oreo asked idly, scanning the walls around them.
B lowered her eyelids in acknowledgment, watching the instruments. “I doubt it. Those ones usually don’t get covered in the first place.”
“True,” Oreo said, going back to watching the walls. There was silence as they dropped further, down so far now they couldn’t see the edges of ice framing the sky anymore. Oreo pointed an exposed ledge out to B. Bare earth – they must be approaching the bottom. B turned to follow it, dropping down along the edge to skim over the frozen dirt. And then Oreo saw a flash of green under their lights.
“Wait, wait, woah, back up again. That shouldn’t be there.”
The android obliged, retracing their path slowly, until Oreo saw it again. There, in a crack in the ice, was a patch of grass, somehow thriving despite the cold and the dark.
“Okay,” Oreo said, “Now I’m interested.”
It took some time to find a stable point close enough to land the little hopper so they could both get out and take a look. The crack was more of a passageway, now that they were closer – and when they shone their lights into it, there was more than just grass growing in it. “Magically preserved, you think?” She lowered her voice and added, finger to her lips, “I can sense traces of a fading look-away spell, too.” Oreo’s breath puffed out into the chill air with each word.
“Old world remnants,” B agreed, turning her arm to let the sensors in it scan the foliage. “Wild phlox. That doesn’t grow here naturally anymore.”
“Come on, let’s check it out,” Oreo said, starting into the cavern without waiting for B. “You’d have said by now if there were old warbots or anything dangerous around.” The android, one digit raised in protest, lowered it without comment and followed. The grass grew thicker and lusher as they headed deeper, behaving for all the world as though it was a balmy wallside evening in some wealthy manor’s garden instead of nightside, miles beneath layers upon layers of ice and rocks.
Eventually, they turned a corner, and the cavern opened up before them, an enormous, perfectly carved sphere in the ice marking where the boundaries of the spellwork lay. As they watched, birds flitted across the wide space and into the crumbling building in the center. The magic sustaining the grass, the birds, and the flowers had not been so kind to whatever this had been – a temple, perhaps? Some kind of elaborately carved stone was still visible in the pale gleam of the ice coating it.
“Dude,” Oreo said, “This is so fucking cool.”
She stepped out into the cavern proper, startling more birds. The central building was the only thing inside, other than the quiet greenery, so she headed straight for it. B followed silently, playing her sensors across the open field and the building. As they reached it, she reported quietly, “It appears to be structurally sound, if not in the best of shape.” Oreo nodded, stepping inside and raising her flashlight. More birds startled, rustling wings echoing off the icy stone. As they reached it, she reported quietly, “It appears to be structurally sound, if not in the best of shape.” Oreo nodded, stepping inside and raising her flashlight. More birds startled, rustling wings echoing off the icy stone.
The building was relatively tall, and the ceiling remained a dark void unless one of them turned their light directly at it. Glinting icicles and the occasional bird were the only things up there, and they stopped bothering. B murmured quietly, “There appears to be a large central chamber to the right. Anything of interest will probably be in there.” They turned down that hall, then turned again to find themselves facing a pair of stone doors, still standing despite all they’d seen. An ominous red x had been hastily splashed across them who knows how long ago – a warning for ancient travelers that had never arrived.
“That paint is ancient,” B said, scanning it. “Who knows how long it’s been here.”
“You want to slice them open?” Oreo asked.
B shook her head, the steam from her heat vents wavering with the motion. “They’re carved. Probably worth studying if not worth money.” She bent to examine the crack between them. “Barred from within. Disease, maybe?”
Oreo’s brow wrinkled in concern. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“You can always stay back here and let me go inside,” B said, flattening her arm and extending it through the crack to knock the bar off. The noise it made was so loud compared to the previous stillness that they both froze in anticipation. Birds chirped at them in annoyance, but nothing else happened, and after a moment they both relaxed. The android set her shoulder to the first door and shoved it aside, revealing a tall room, shattered glass dome open to the sky – or what would be the sky if it weren’t buried in ice. “I don’t sense any known pathogens, though. It’s up to you,” she said, stepping over the bar and starting right for the shelves full of preserved books.
Oreo wasn’t paying attention. Her gaze had immediately been caught by the pair of imposing statues seated by the far wall. Two men, larger than life – one carved out of some black stone, and one out of pale golden marble. Each was dressed in a loose robe of the same color, sleeveless and slit down the sides, tiny pinpricks of embroidery tracing obscure patterns across the folds. Their entwined hair draped across the floor and the walls, gold and black, stretching up to the ceiling. Even the finest of strands had been detailed – they had to have been carved right into the wall for that complex of a structure. She stepped closer. The amount of detail in those composed, sleeping faces was incredible; just similar enough to show they were related, but different enough that they were easily told apart. Paint meant to mimic tattoos accented the differences.
“Bee, look at these statues,” she whispered. “The artistry is absolutely stunning.” She reached up a hand to gently touch the pale statue’s face.
“Oreo, wait,” B said uneasily, “I don’t think those are statues…”
She realized her mistake the moment her fingers touched flesh and two pairs of colorless unblinking eyes opened, staring straight at her. Everything after that happened in a blur.
“Temerators!” thundered the pale statue as he stood, draping hair whipping back and out threateningly. The dark statue said nothing, merely gazed blankly at them, before disappearing entirely in a gust of air. B had activated her stealth camouflage in horror, but loops of hair swooped out to snag her anyway. Oreo’s gun was in her hands, and panicking, she fired point-blank at the pale statue’s face, even as she felt the moving coils snag her ankles and pull her off balance. The statue didn’t even blink as the bullet shattered against his cheek, arm lashing out in retaliation, magic gathering in that clawed hand before hitting her square in the chest.
Nothing happened. At least, not right away. She was upside down and dangling a foot in the air before she felt a burning itch start where she’d been struck. The statue didn’t seem concerned with them now that they’d been contained – his attention was on the empty seat next to him.
“Heu,” he said, voice gentle now and somehow… sad. “O Imum, ubi te?” He reached a hand out as if he could summon the other man back, but there was no response.
“He disappeared right after you yelled,” Oreo volunteered helpfully, still swinging in the air. She would very much like to scratch at her chest but her arms were pinned to her sides. B made a little hissing noise as if to tell her to shut up, but it was a little too late – the statue turned his attention back to his prisoners.
He stared at them a moment, eyelids flickering as he seemed to analyze the deepest inner reaches of their souls, then said, fumbling for words as though speaking in a foreign language, “What, exactly, are you doing in here? Did you not see the warning on the door?”
“Well,” Oreo started, fidgeting under that eerie gaze that looked through her and not at her, “The paint was really really really old, so we thought maybe whatever it was wasn’t a problem anymore? This place has been buried in ice for a really long time, after all….”
The statue blinked in surprise. “I’m sorry, what? What ice?”
“You know, the glacier? Since we’re nightside?”
He said, frowning, “Your words ring true, but the images in your mind make no sense.”
From her own cocoon of hair, B inquired, “Exactly how long have you been asleep in here?”
“Too long, clearly,” he muttered under his breath. Then, louder, turning his gaze directly towards the pair of them, he said, “It doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that my brother is unstable, and I do not know where he has gone.” His words became clearer the longer he spoke, as if he was tuning his accent to their ears. “I sense no malice from either of you; if I release you, will you refrain from any further aggression?”
B acquiesced immediately with a simple ‘Yes.’
Oreo, though, said, “Only if you tell me what you did that’s making me itch so badly.”
“Ah,” the statue said, righting Oreo and lowering them to the ground, “I do apologize for marking you. It was a reflex after your attack, but presents no current danger. The itch will subside after the mark settles.”
Released from its unnatural animation, his hair settled back as though it had never been anything else. Oreo said suspiciously, noting his phrasing, “Current danger?”
He nodded. “You have sinned, and not atoned for it,” he said, gesturing with one hand. “The mark shows that I may render justice for your sin.”
That sounded complicated. “What?”
The statue tilted his head to the side and said, “To put it bluntly, I am allowed to execute you.”
“I’m sorry, what? Because I shot at you?”
“No,” he said calmly. “You have killed someone, and the weight of that guilt hangs heavy on your soul.”
She took a step back, fear starting to bubble up in the back of her head. “That- that was self-defense!” To the side, she noted absently that B was watching this whole conversation with interest, probably recording it for later.
“Yes, I could see that in your mind,” the statue agreed. “I am not inclined to punish someone so heavily for defending against a legitimate threat to their survival.” He paused, tilting his head to the other side. “You are lucky he didn’t notice. He might not have had enough… discernment to understand the difference.”
She relaxed a little. “So… can you take it off then?”
“I am afraid I cannot, as it is at its essence a curse. Once marked for judgment, the only way to remove it is to properly atone for your sin. As I said, I do apologize… it was a reflex.”
Oreo said, fidgeting uncomfortably, “Well, shit.”
He was unconcerned, waving a hand in dismissal. “I am patient. The only real time constraint is your lifespan; it can always be dealt with later. Right now,” he said, gesturing towards the empty chairs, “My brother must be found. The hope was that his rage would have dimmed during our slumber, so that I could heal him when we woke – but I do not know if it actually has, nor where he could have gone. He could be wreaking havoc somewhere as we speak.”
B said thoughtfully, “If you’ve been asleep as long as I think you have, he won’t be familiar with anything outside. What would he do about that? Exactly how unstable is he?”
The statue lowered his head in thought, one finger rising to settle under his chin. “He will be feeling as drained as I am now, perhaps more. In the absence of the familiar, he would gravitate towards the nearest aether-rich environment so he could recover his strength.” He nodded. “As to his state of mind…. Before I managed to subdue him last time, he leveled a small forest in anger, and was not responding to verbal instructions.”
“Okay, that sounds… pretty bad,” Oreo said, trying not to wince. “Aether-rich… that… wouldn’t happen to be the underground, would it, Bee?” She was afraid she knew the answer already, and the android’s small nod was just confirmation.
“It tends to concentrate where we set up, due to all the magical activity, so if not our pocket of the underground it would certainly be another.”
“Can you send them a message from here?”
B shook her head, already turning towards the exit. “We’re too deep beneath the ice and too far from the wall. We’ll have to get back to the hopper first to boost the signal.” She waved a commanding arm at the statue, saying, “Come on, then, spooky, we can fit one more person in the hopper, even a giant. Let’s go find your missing scary friend.”
“Spooky?”
The startled look the statue gave the android’s back was the most human thing Oreo had seen from him. He elected not to comment further on the improvised name, saying instead, “A moment,” straightening to his full height – eight feet or so, Oreo guessed – then whistling, and one of the many birds fluttered down through the open roof and onto his shoulder. That was all he needed, apparently, because he vanished in a gust of wind, leaving Oreo alone in the empty room. Her chest had stopped itching, she realized, unzipping her thick coat briefly to take a look. Three curving vertical lines, with a small diamond beneath the middle line, just like on the statue’s face – and roughly carved into his chair too, she noted.
If she didn’t move, though, she’d be left behind, and she zipped her coat back up and hurried out after B, following the determined tap tap tap of her plastic outer shell against the stone.
