Song of the Sea Spirit: An epic fantasy novel (The Mindstream Chronicles) (18 page)

“I trust the journey from Kale wasn’t too unpleasant?”

“It’s Kaild,” she said. “And no, it wasn’t. Thank you for asking.” Why was he still holding her hand? Because she was pliable. She pulled it more firmly now, and he released it.

“My apologies,” he said. “I was so mesmerized by your lovely eyes that I’d forgotten I still had your hand.”

She forced a smile.
I’m not
that
pliable.

His gaze traveled down her body and returned to her eyes. “Did the registrar not give you the proper garments?”

“Oh, she did. I... should I change now?”

“No need to strip down in front of me,” he said, his lips curved into a crooked smile. His eyes twinkled. “As long as you’re properly dressed by the time the supper bell is rung, I won’t...” He licked his lips. “...punish you for violating article one five one, section b: failing to attire yourself in a manner befitting a member of the Order.”

Jora felt the heat of a blush seep into her face. She didn’t like him, she decided, despite his handsome face and captivating mouth. She didn’t like him at all.

“Has Elder Gastone given you a tour of the bureau yet?”

“No,” she said. “He asked Novices Adriel and Gilon to do that. They’ll be around shortly.”

“Good, good. There’s one thing they can’t show you, however.” He smiled, showing straight white teeth. A truly handsome man, he was probably used to getting what he wanted with his charm.

“What’s that?” she asked warily, remembering Elder Gastone’s admonishment against wooing her.

“Come with me.” He gestured for her to step past him into the hallway.

She shut the door behind her and started downstairs. When they reached the second floor landing, he said, “My apartment is on this floor, number two twenty-two. If you need to speak with me, you will find me there or in my office in the bureau.”

She nodded and continued to the ground floor. They walked across the covered walkway, his long strides whispering while her boots clomped.

“You’ll be receiving your instruction from Disciple Bastin. She’s occupied currently, but I’ll see to it she finds you this evening. I’m guessing you’d be more comfortable with a woman as your teacher. And you’ve already met Novice Gil. She instructs him as well, and he’s only arrived within the last couple of weeks, so he’s not too far ahead of you in his learning.”

He led her through the Justice Bureau hall and out the front door to the finger-like statue at the top of the wide steps. No, not a finger, she realized. It had smooth protrusions like fins on three sides, leaving one side smooth and flat. Its tip narrowed like the beak of a dolphin. It was a dolphin, she realized, but worn down by weathering.

He indicated the statue with a sweep of his arm. “What do you make of this, Novice?”

It called to her, and she glided toward it, as if in a dream. She laid one palm on its smooth surface. A vibration shot through her entire body at once, and she yanked her hand away, crying out in surprise. “Goodness.”

Adept Sonnis was looking at her with arched eyebrows and wide eyes, clearly surprised. “You heard it?”

“I—I’m not sure.” It was a sensation as much as it was a sound. Jora touched it again, tentatively, and when she did, she felt a hum, one long note that resonated through her bones as if she were the tuning fork for the stone’s song. “It’s a single note, resonating through me. What is this statue?” she asked.

“Remarkable,” Adept Sonnis said. “Did Elder Gastone not point it out earlier?”

She shook her head. Neither Gilon nor Adriel had paid it much attention, either.

He pursed his lips as he studied her. “This is one of the seven Spirit Stones,” he said finally. “They’re spread across Aerta, and cities formed around them.”

The Spirit Stones. She’d learned of them in school when she was a child. It was speculated that they were the source of the Truth Sayers’ abilities. Serocia had two such statues, the other one being in Halder. “I learned about them when I was a child, but I’d never seen one before. They’re the source of our talent?”

“So it’s said.” Adept Sonnis laid his palm against it as well. “The tone changes every day at dawn. Some of the adepts and elders gather here to experience the moment it changes, when the first ray of sunlight peeks over the horizon.”

Jora looked at Adept Sonnis to judge whether the man was jesting, but he looked perfectly serious, even reverent, as he gazed across the tops of the buildings below. From here, Jora could see the glistening blue water of the Inner Sea. With one hand on the singing dolphin-like structure, she couldn’t help but think of Sundancer, and her eyes welled with tears. She’d only said goodbye to the dolphin that morning, but already it felt like weeks had passed since she’d last seen her friend.

“You should join us sometime. We’ve never had a novice who hears the tones.”

“Never?” she asked. “Why not?”

He smiled. “It’s a fascinating question which no one has yet answered. One generally doesn’t begin to hear them until one has been a Truth Sayer for fifteen or twenty years. In fact, one cannot be promoted to Elder until he—or she—has heard them. Now I understand why Elder Gastone took a liking to you.”

The loose-fitting novices’ garments were actually quite comfortable. The trousers had a simple drawstring waist, which she tied tight enough to stay on. The left edge of the robe tied to a string stitched into the right side seam, and the right edge tied to a string sewn into the left side seam. Both front edges had pockets sewn into them, though they were too small to carry more than a few bills or a key ring or the like. The V neckline in front was high enough for modesty, and if she wanted to tuck something larger into her robe, such as her journal, the violet fabric belt tied snugly around her waist would keep it from falling through to the floor.

Adriel and Gilon stopped by Jora’s room to welcome her again to the Order. Adriel had been a Novice for two years, and Gilon said her guidance had been wonderful during his first few confusing days.

“So tell me, how do you know me?” he asked, sitting on her reclining chair. “Who’s our mutual friend?”

Jora didn’t want to admit to having been the reason he was dragged off to join the Order, but he would keep asking questions until she told him anyway. “We have mutual friends who are in the same unit. I was checking on my friend for his papa, and your name came up. Your cousin, I think he said.”

“Yah, the loudmouth who turned me in,” he said with a scowl.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “It was my fault, actually. There were two Sayers in the room, and one of them saw me somehow. He asked the group who among them knew of a Mindstreamer, and your cousin volunteered your name while my friend stayed silent. You were discovered because of my actions. I’m really sorry. I worried about what might happen to you.”

Gilon laughed. “Don’t be. Living here beats getting driven through on a Barader’s blade. If I’d known how much better life was as a Novice, I’d have spoken up myself the day before I turned eighteen.”

“Chicken,” Adriel said.

“I’m more of a bunny—cute and cuddly.” He winked at Adriel.

“Mindstreamer, you said?” Adriel asked.

Jora nodded. “That’s what I call the Talent for Witnessing: Mindstreaming.”

“Mindstreaming,” Gilon said, nodding. “I like it.”

“Where are you from?” Adriel asked.

“Kaild,” Jora said.

“Kaild?” Gilon said, scrunching his face with what looked like contempt. Or perhaps he’d simply never heard of it, which was entirely possible, given how small a town it was.

“It’s a small town on the coast a few days’ ride to the north. You?”

“Halder,” Adriel said, pointing at herself, “and Renn,” she said, pointing at Gilon.

“Have they told you who your disciple is?” Gilon asked.

“Um, someone named Bastin. Do you know him?” Jora asked.

Adriel snickered and Gilon groaned. “She’s mine too,” he said. “A nipper.”

Jora chuckled. “What’s a nipper?”

Adriel replied, “Children who were given up by their parents because their ability to Mindstream was too bizarre. Made them nervous or what have you. They come here young, usually around ten but sometimes as young as five or six. There’s an adept who’s only fifteen years old, but he’s unique.”

“It sounds like there are lots of Sayers here,” Jora said.

“There are a couple hundred here in Jolver,” Adriel said, “almost that number in Halder and the other big cities, and then each Legion unit has one or two.”

“What’s their role in the Legion?” she asked.

“Mostly to relay messages,” Gilon said. “There’s a board on the first floor of the bureau that messengers post communications to. They use messengers who aren’t Sayers because observing a Sayer is
against the rules.
” He wiggled his fingers ominously. “Each unit has a soldier who’s designated as the messenger for the Sayers assigned to his unit, and he posts messages on a board in the command building. This enables the Sayers to get and send messages to the Order to coordinate the movement of units, arrival of supplies, and enemy sightings or raids.”

“I see,” Jora said. “No wonder they got Sayers to Kaild so quickly.”

“Yah,” Adriel said. “One of the things we learn as Novices is how to observe the messenger and access the command board, and when to alert the elders if something needs their attention. Disciples and Adepts monitor the board too, of course, but it’s more of a chore and less interesting than witnessing crimes.”

“When do we get to do that?”

“Oh, you’ll get to sit in on hearings from time to time,” Adriel said. “Gilon had his first yesterday. Disciples hear the accusation and witness the event to verify a crime was committed. The adepts make judgments and pass along sentencing recommendations to the elders. The elders impose a sentence, and then the enforcers carry it out.”

These were things Jora had learned in school, but it had been almost thirteen years since she finished, and the details of how the Justice Bureau operated wasn’t among the subjects she found interesting enough to remember. “What was it like, the hearing?” she asked Gilon. “Interesting?”

He nodded. “Oh yeah. It was a robbery. You’d think that people might think twice before committing crimes when Truth Sayers can witness the whole thing. They try to cover their faces or stick to shadows, but we can always go backward and view them in the past. It’s like they don’t think of that.”

“Assuming,” Adriel said, “there’s someone in the area to observe. You can’t observe a dead man.”

“You can in some cases,” Gilon said. A faraway look came into his eyes.

“What do you mean?” Adriel asked. “What cases?”

Quietly, he said, “I witnessed a fellow in my unit die. He was on guard duty, and I heard him shout for help.”

“Sure, we can witness someone die as it happens,” Adriel said. “But you can’t, for example, observe him on the pyre afterward.”

Gilon looked like he wanted to say more, but he closed his mouth.

Jora thought about her brother’s grisly death. She’d witnessed it after the fact, after she was unable to find him in the present and had to stream her own past and jump to him in order to find out what happened to him. “You can,” she said quietly.

“What do you mean? Observe someone’s corpse on the pyre?” Adriel asked.

“No, witness his death. If it’s someone you know, you can observe your own past, and then jump to the other person. That’s how I found out how my brother died.”

“Oh,” Adriel said. “I didn’t know we could do that. Did you?”

Gilon shook his head. “Sorry about your brother. Sorry you had to see it.”

She nodded an acknowledgment of his sympathy and took a deep breath, hoping to lighten the conversation again. “So aside from the hearings and command board, what are our duties?”

“The Observation Request Room,” Adriel said, her voice like a groan. “It’s where we sit and observe soldiers for paying customers, to tell them whether their loved one is still alive.”

“We get paid for that?” Jora asked. It sounded like what she used to do for the people back home in Kaild.

“We don’t. The bureau does,” Gilon said.

Jora scrunched her brow. “If the adepts serving with the Legion know the bureau uses justice officials to observe soldiers from the Request Room, how did they know Gilon and I weren’t one of them?”

He looked at her with raised brows. “How indeed?”

Adriel said, “Everyone learns a new skill when they advance in rank. Disciples are taught how to prevent others from observing them. Adepts are taught to recognize members of the Order who are using the Talent—the Mindstream.”

“What do elders learn?” Jora asked.

“I’m not sure. Next time we see one, let’s ask.”

“What about the daily routine?” Jora asked. “Chores and whatnot?”

Adriel and Gilon told Jora about the daily routine, the meals, and rules for social interaction. They cautioned her about which adepts to avoid and which were willing to stop and answer questions.

“Adriel’s in Elder Gastone’s hierarchy. You and I are in Elder Kassyl’s,” he told her. “He’s pretty old, though, so we never see him.”

“How old?” Jora asked.