In the Cloister

By Jason

“You are as shortsighted as your predecessor,” S’Uba stood her ground as The Herald stepped forward.

“You arrogant old…” The Herald’s edges shimmered darkly.

Careful now, Jynn watched the tension ripple through The Herald’s wings. S’Uba held her own. The Herald was a good head and half taller than S’Uba but they had all witnessed her physical prowess when she had been on the Hunt.

She’s getting to him, Jynn thought. This is not the time to lose control! Oh, why did I think this could work?

Jynn caught the Sister’s eye and shrugged. The Sister shrugged back – what else could they do? This moment needed to play out. Like all the others before it. The Herald needed to play his part which was all well and good Jynn told herself, if he were still just playing his part.

The Herald and S’Uba argued. Each inching closer to the other, the anger in the set of their muscles. The age-old enmity hardening the tone of their voices. What are we doing? Jynn shook her head. I should never have sent him down this path. Maybe S’Uba is right – The Heralds are all too headstrong, too emotional. They had always been quick to argue. He was shouting now, no decorum in the chamber, not these days. Then again Jynn couldn’t remember the last time decorum had been entertained in the Circle. The chamber was a stage and everything in the chamber was now a performance. Yet, this was one that she, Jynn elemental Song Mistress of the Second House, had composed of her own accord.

She looked at the Herald’s flickering edges and closed her eyes.

The stage was clearing. The meeting was over. The chamber started to empty yet other performances continued in smaller troupes: petty functionaries and hangers on made themselves busy and appear important. Papers were shuffled, important discussions were held just loud enough for some others to hear but not too loud as to disturb the main players. Follow up meetings were planned as they poured over the details from the gathering of the families till all the supporting artistes had bustled off to wherever it was that they needed to be seen next.

What performances these gatherings have become, thought Jynn as she watched S’Uba move gracefully towards her offices, acknowledging a select few people as she passed through the chamber. A dignified nod here, a smile of reassurance there, a dismissive wave of the hand to some. None of this nonsense in my Mistress’s day. Well, well, well haven’t we created quite the production here eh S’Uba? Stunning, operatic even, I would tip my hat if I still wore one.

The walls of the Circle closed silently behind S’Uba. Jynn turned her attention to The Herald. Syphyn’s replacement. New and shiny and full of that annoying sense of righteousness his kind always held dear. The Herald was still seated. Jynn did not like the rigid set to his jaw. Time for another talk. She caught his eye, nodded to the outer wall where a doorway leading to a quite cloister had appeared. With a shrug of his shoulders The Herald pushed his chair back and followed.

“Her arrogance knows no bounds.”

They had barely crossed the threshold; the outer walls of the chamber had not yet closed behind them.

“Keep your voice down and keep walking,” Jynn looked over her shoulder at the nearly empty chamber. “There are still eyes and ears a plenty.” 

The walls slid closed. Starlight filled the cloister with a soft rippling light. The cloister would be theirs for some time, just as Jynn had arranged.

“Have you always been such an idiot?”

“Excuse me!”

“No,” Jynn jabbed a finger towards The Herald’s cheek, just below his right eye. “I shall not excuse you. Didn’t you see that she was baiting you?”

“Well, yes but her family have always…”

“Stop it. Stop it now. I mean it and wipe that surly look from you brow or I swear to the spheres that I shall knock it off for you!”

“She is still blinded by ambition and the rest of the Coruscation quake in her shadow.”

Jynn glared and pointed her sharpest finger into the softest part of The Herald’s cheek. She smiled, just a little, as The Herald lowered his eyes and steadied his breathing. Good, she thought. Now perhaps we can talk.  

“Forget her. Just for moment let’s focus on your performance in there,” Jynn pointed toward the chamber. “Today you brought hot-headed ignorance to the meeting instead of what was needed!”

“I cannot- “

“- what? Help yourself! Of for the love of the divine monochord will you put your old arguments to one side and use whatever passes for a brain in that shiny head of yours?”

Many emotions passed across the Herald’s face until finally embarrassment took its rightful place. The Herald nodded. Jynn relaxed a little.

“Let’s walk a while,” Jynn flew ahead a little and looked back at The Herald. “Don’t be so sure about S’Uba. She is not as blind as your anger would have you think. She has ways of finding things. Secret things. Remember what happened to Cassia?”

“Of course I do.”

“Well then.”

They turned the first corner of the colonnade and continued at a leisurely pace. Jynn hoped that, to anyone who may be watching, that this would look like two council members, one more experienced than the other, getting acquainted after another long and tedious meeting. Jynn looked up of at the vastness of the universe and smiled, it amazed her how, even after all these years, the stars still stirred something in her breast, “The Fang are with us.”

“Finally,” said The Herald.

Jynn watched the smile on The Herald’s face, the bloom of renewed confidence. This one still needs to be managed, she thought.

“Quietly…”

“My apologies Mistress Jynn,” The Herald revelled in his gentle smile, then realisation slowly dawned across his smooth face. “The Hatchery?”

“Yes,” Jynn landed on the stone sill. “I’m afraid so.”

She closed her eyes and shivered. She could see it all again: the devastation and the towering flames. The crunch of rubble and shell underfoot. How she and Peck had sat with the Sister watching tears cascade down her enamelled cheeks as the Brother howled and twisted through the thick acrid smoke, pouring his pain and anger into the twilight sky. 

“I am saddened that it took such an attack to bring them to our cause.”

Jynn opened her eyes, blinked to adjust to the light in the cloister, “It was not Gloam.”

The Herald stopped walking, suddenly he seemed unsure of where he was going.

“Are you certain?”

“Have you ever heard Gloam’s music, not a recording mind, but the actual music?”

“Once, many decades ago, when I first arrived at The Circle for my first hunt.” 

“Of course, yes. Yes,” Jynn squared her shoulders, organising her thoughts. “Gloam’s music is many things. To our ears it is illogical, it jumps and twists and turns and hurts the harmonic ear. Yet, for all its oddness, for all its bleak strangeness, it has a clarity to it. It has direction and intent. We know that his music is ancient. Possibly from a time before the Celestial Sea or the Mothers. It is due to that ancientness that Gloam’s music has absolute clarity and a purity of purpose. It is unmistakable to the Elfensai. There is nothing else like it and I can tell you that that was not the music left at the Hatchery.”

“So, who or what attacked the Hatchery?” The Herald sat next to Jynn on the sill.

“We aren’t sure yet,” Jynn raised a hand to stop The Herald’s next question. “The residual tones that we found at the Hatchery were convincing enough at first hearing. To the Fang in the midst of battle it was Gloam. To the untrained ear it was Gloam. There was a quality to the music, cutting like crystal blades. The sounds were twisted and contorted, they tore holes and wrought destruction. Yet, when we delved beneath those angular top notes, looked at the deeper elements of the composition they were muddy and confused.”

“Not like Gloam’s?”
            “No.”

The Herald looked at the cloister floor, the walls, the columns anywhere except at Jynn.

“Is it her?”

Jynn looked along the colonnade. She knew that they were alone, the manifestation of this cloister had been organised by trusted parties, but she still did not feel entirely safe. No part of The Circle felt safe anymore. She flapped her wings and continued on her way, knowing that this performance needed to continue a little longer.

“I cannot say. Peck is still at the Hatchery.”

“Your new apprentice?”

“She is one of the most promising candidates for Song Mistress we’ve had in years and has a keener ear than you or I. I am confident in my choice and her abilities.”

“I need to know for certain. I cannot act against S’Uba unless- “

“You cannot act against S’Uba full stop and certainly not on your own. What is it with Heralds, why are you all such hot-headed morons?”

“Mor-ons?”

“A human insult. I like the sound of the word.”

“I, do not.”

“Don’t take it so personally. That’s always been your family’s problem,” Jynn looked sideways at The Herald’s stony features. She stopped and hovered. In her mind she could see another possible composition, another possible path, and as The Herald stepped past her that composition started to take shape. “Then again, maybe you should continue to act the hot-headed moron? Yes… Yes… There is an old enmity between The Heralds and The Coruscation. That has not changed in generations, why would it now? Maybe, hmmm… this, you, could work to our advantage. As long as you can play your part and not get lost among the notes?”

“You would like me to continue playing as the hot-headed moron?” The Herald turned to face Jynn.

“Yes,” nodded Jynn. “I would my young friend. It is a role I think you were born to play.”

“Perhaps you need to be reminded of your place Herald,” S’Uba’s voice pulled Jynn back to the scene in front of her

Jynn shivered, the air had changed, as if a window had been left open on a crisp winter’s morning. Something was coming. Jynn looked around her at the shifting walls of the chamber. There was music riding in on the cold air, a distant chanting song. It was faint but rhythmic and moving inexorably towards the Circle.  Jynn watched the Sister scowling as she wound through the chamber’s ornate columns, her breath billowing from of her nostrils and trailing behind her. 

“And you are the person to remind me of my place?”

“It would be my pleasure young Herald,” S’Uba raised her hand, the mark of the First Mother on her luminous palm.

“You are no longer worthy of that mark.’

So, The Herald still plays his part and reasonably well, Jynn readied herself.

“I am more than this mark,” S’Uba looked at the delicate design that wrapped round her hand and along her arm. Jynn remembered the day that the Chamberlain’s needle had traced a design onto her own skin. Receiving her mark, the mark of her family, her Mother and of the Circle joined, had given Jynn a sense of pride and strength. Each design was beautiful and unique, tailored to the individual. Circles and dots danced among the intricate lines that wove in an out of each other across the skin of the recipient. No two were ever the same. There was an ancient music that lay between the ink and the markings. A sense of belonging and freedom. As she watched S’Uba staring at her own mark, Jynn knew that S’Uba’s feelings had faded and darkened over the centuries since she had received her mark.

S’Uba closed her fist blocking out the lines. “I am more than the Mother’s ever intended me to be.” 

“You have no respect for The Circle,” the Herald unfurled his metallic wings.

“None of this matters,” S’Uba stood at the centre of the chamber, glowing with a strangely serene light. “None of you matter.”

“You have lost your way S’Uba,” Jynn called out.

“It does not matter anymore.”

“Time to step aside,” said the Herald.

“Only when my task is done.”

Silence blanketed the chamber.

What is she thinking? Jynn wondered. What does she know? This is her Circle now. Jynn felt her brain jolt as a thousand ‘What ifs?” battered the inside of her skull like moths hitting a storm lamp. It was impossible to read S’Uba. Centuries of statecraft and deceit had given her the perfect armour. The perfect disguise.

Everything about S’Uba’s demeanour seemed to say, I am in control.

Jynn caught her breath. Held it in her chest for a moment. She exhaled slowly. There it was. The faintest shimmer. A brief staccato pulsing in S’Uba’s light. Jynn had seen this before: the moment where a member of the Coruscation scented their prey. Jynn prayed that The Herald had seen it too. 

S’Uba turned away from the chamber. Facing the sliding chamber walls, she gestured with her raised hand drawing a line in the air from ceiling to floor. A line of light formed in the wall opposite S’Uba. The wall parted. Cold silver light poured into the chamber. Jynn heard the cold music again – that familiar yet distant chant. She recognised it now. It was no chant. It was a marching song. The pounding rhythm of boots and the steely clash of armour. As the opening grew larger Jynn felt her knees buckle. Callie and Mabb’s fears had been realised. The Herald looked at Jynn, eyes wide. The Brother and The Sister hung in the air as they watched the opening widen.

S’Uba’s army emerged from the cold hard light.  

S’Uba turned to face her fellow representatives. Her light now echoed the silver light of her army. The soldiers passed through the opening in four lines. As they reached S’Uba’s position two lines turned left, the other two turned right. Marching till they had formed a double ring within the first circle of columns, cutting off Jynn and The Herald from The Fang. One line faced in towards Jynn, The Herald and S’Uba. The other faced outward towards the Fang. When they were in place the soldiers drew their weapons.

“Surrender,” S’Uba’s face had hardened. The statesmanship cast aside.

“Not an option,” Jynn looked to S’Uba.

Jynn took a breath and nodded to The Fang. With a slash of her tail the Sister took out five soldiers. Their bodies crashing into a wall on the opposite side of the chamber. The Brother grabbed at four more and tossed them towards the ceiling.

S’Uba stared at Jynn. A flicker of recognition crossed S’Uba’s features. Jynn knew that S’Uba would never forgive her for this. Nor would I want you to, Jynn smiled back at S’Uba then darted toward the keystone at centre of the chamber.