44

The Void

KNOT RUSHED BACK THROUGH the Void, finally finding the place where he’d first entered it. He recognized it easily enough; Winter was not the only one with an anomalous appearance in the Void. As he was pulled away from the Coastal Road, he’d noticed two great spheres of translucent color in the Void—one blue, the other a shining silver. The two bubbles were impossible to miss, and he navigated his way easily back to them. They’d almost merged, their outlines barely discernible.

“You see Lathe?” Kali asked. She had traveled with Knot, gliding by his side back to the Coastal Road.

“Aye,” Knot said. At the center of the two spheres, Knot saw Lathe’s sift. Without Knot’s multiple sifts, it was a simple star-light, blueish in hue.

“Yes,” Kali said, approaching the sift with him. “That one is definitely Lathe. Without his sift, you won’t have your psimantic abilities, but I’ll tell you something very few people know. Everyone…”

Kali trailed off as Knot tentatively reached out his tendra—two of them, each hardly more than a trickle— towards Lathe’s sift.

“How did you know to do that?” Kali asked.

“A psimancer named Wyle,” Knot said. “He told me all beings technically have tendra in the Void, if they somehow find their way into this plane of existence.”

Kali huffed. “Wyle. I should’ve known. He’s the one that stabilized your sift, I take it?”

“He is,” Knot said. He stopped his tendra just before they made contact with Lathe’s sift. “Ain’t sure what to do here. Any suggestions?”

“You’ll need to make contact with him first,” Kali said. “After that—”

When Knot’s tendra made contact with Lathe’s sift, a burst of light radiated outward.

Then, Knot felt himself propelled forward through the Void, inward, into Lathe’s sift. Everything magnified around him, and then was still.

Knot stood within what appeared to be a huge ball of blue light, facing Lathe. It was like looking in a mirror: shaggy brown hair, brown eyes, sinewy bodies, nondescript features. Beneath that, they could not be any more different.

“How did you get in here?” Lathe asked. His voice echoed in the blue haze. It was flat, without emotion, without pretense.

“Long story,” Knot mumbled.

“Your priestess is about to be taken over by a Daemon,” Lathe remarked.

“We must…” Knot hesitated. “Cinzia is about to be taken over by a Daemon?” What in Oblivion is he talking about?

“I can’t let you back in,” Lathe said, shaking his head. “Even if I wanted to, I… she would not allow it. It appears I’ve gotten in a bit over my head this time.”

“What happened to Cinzia?” Knot demanded.

“She will be destroyed, and only the Daemon will exist. I didn’t know until just now—Goddess, of course she didn’t tell me—but the same thing will happen to me. It’s already happened to Mefiston’s avatar.” Lathe’s eyes slid away from Knot, his voice still eerily flat and emotionless. “I thought I wanted to live. I suppose I still do. But this… this wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“Then let me back in. We can fix this.”

“No,” Lathe said. “I don’t control that anymore. She will not let me.”

Knot swore. He hated not having a physical body. He needed to hit something.

Then, a third presence joined them in Lathe’s sift. While both Knot and Lathe were almost solid, the third presence had a fuzzy, transparent quality to it. At first Knot worried it was Bazlamit, but the form’s ever-shifting face gave her away.

Lathe stared at the new projection, eyes wide. “Kali?”

“Hello, Lathe,” Kali said. “It’s been a while.”

“What in Oblivion are you doing here?”

“I wish I had time to explain that,” Kali said, “but I don’t. I think I can help you. Both of you. I think I can distract Bazlamit long enough for her to relax her guard. Then you can let Knot back in to take over your body, Lathe.”

“I’ll die,” Lathe said. “Or I’ll be as good as dead, anyway.”

Kali shrugged. “You’ll die either way. At least if you let me help, you won’t be responsible for allowing a Daemon to take its true form on the Sfaera.”

Lathe met Knot’s eyes, and again Knot had the strange sensation he was looking into a mirror.

“Shit. Let’s do it.” Then, Lathe actually chuckled. It was the first sign of emotion Knot had seen from him throughout the conversation. “Knot… take care of myself, if you know what I mean. And, Kali, it was good seeing you. Give my love to Sirana, if you can.”

Lathe’s form flickered, then faded, as did the blue light all around them.

Knot and Kali were back in the Void.

“Even if I could, I doubt that would happen,” Kali muttered to herself.

“Don’t you have a job to do?” Knot asked.

Kali smiled at him. “On it.”

Almost two dozen multicolored tendra exploded outward from Kali’s shifting form, jutting out in all directions. The tendra extended outward an impossible distance, until finally each one made contact with the very edge of the silver bubble around Lathe’s sift.

The moment they made contact, the hazy exterior of the silver bubble shifted, and it suddenly became solid.

“What—”

“Send your tendra into Lathe’s sift again,” Kali said through gritted teeth. “Do it now.”

Knot obeyed without hesitation. As his own tendra made contact with Lathe’s sift, the same flash of light pierced his vision.

When Knot opened his eyes, he found he actually had eyes to open.

He was in his own body, and it was a foggy morning on the Coastal Road. He was holding Eward, as if threatening him. He immediately released the man. Cinzia writhed before him on the dirt road, blue light bursting forth from her as she screamed.

What… what are you doing here? a voice inside of himself asked.

Throwing you out, Knot thought. I do not want you here. I did not give you permission. Get out.

You cannot—

Then, the voice was gone, and Knot was himself again. The light crackling from Cinzia’s body faded, and she slumped backwards into the road.

Knot looked around. Eward was with him, and five Prelates. The bodies of the Sons and Goddessguard lay behind him.

And there, at his side, was Astrid.

“Knot?” she asked.

Not trusting himself to speak, Knot knelt down and held her as if he would never let go.

“Uh… nomad? I know it’s been a long time and everything, but isn’t this a bit much?”

Never.

And, for all her talk, Astrid was not the first to pull away.

When they separated, Knot reached into the secret pocket in his trousers, pulling out Astrid’s voidstone, the blood-red rune glinting. He held it out to her.

“I’ve had a lot of free time over the last few months,” he said.

Astrid stared at the voidstone. Then she turned away. “I don’t think I can hear it. Whatever it is, I don’t think I can—”

“It ain’t what you think,” Knot said. He pressed the voidstone into her hand. “You’ve been responsible for a lot of shitty things on this Sfaera, darlin’, there’s no getting around that. But that ain’t all there is. The Black Matron, she made you forget all the terrible things, but she made you forget all the good things you’ve done, too. And you did a lot of good, Astrid. The Black Matron made you think your only redemption was through her, but the truth is, you’ve been working at it your whole life.”

Astrid buried her face in his shoulder. “I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Knot said. “We can talk about it as much as you want later. Or as little. It’s completely up to you. I just wanted to… to thank you, for lettin’ me in.”

* * *

Astrid pulled away, wiping her face. “Enough with the hugs, nomad. Eward’s going to think we aren’t fit to lead him into battle any longer.”

Knot laughed, as did Eward behind them. Astrid had almost forgotten the lad was there.

“I’m glad you’re back,” Astrid said, looking up at him.

Knot smiled. “Me too.” He glanced over at Cinzia. “We’d better help her…”

“She’s out cold.” Astrid grabbed Knot’s hand and led him a few rods down the road. “Come here, I want to show you something.”

There, lying on the damp dirt road, mangled and filthy, was the Black Matron. The woman’s eyes were open wide, staring up at the clouded sky, but she did not move. Her head was bent back and twisted unnaturally. Dust caked her robes, staining the once bright white and red fabric.

“The bitch is dead,” Knot said.

“Damn right she is.”

The Black Matron was dead, and Astrid could do nothing but stare at the woman’s mangled body. She was vaguely aware of Cinzia regaining consciousness behind her, of Knot moving away to help her to her feet, and of Eward and the remaining Prelates gathering the scattered horses and preparing to leave. The entire time, Astrid could not tear herself away. How one person could have caused her so much grief, Astrid could not comprehend.

She flinched as a hand gently touched her shoulder. She turned to see Knot standing behind her.

“Eward and the Prelates will take care of the bodies,” Knot said.

Of course they would. They could not very well leave the bodies of a Cantic matron, priestesses, Goddessguards, and Sons in the middle of the road.

She looked back at the Black Matron’s body.

“You all right?” Knot asked.

Astrid took a deep breath, felt the dampness of the fog around her, the comforting cover of the clouds in the sky. Then, she turned away, and did not look back.

“I will be.”