Shenu breathed deep of the incensed air and tried to control his rising temper. Across from him, Zinnia sat in lotus on the plush rug, her upturned palms cradled in her lap and her slitted green eyes reflecting the flame curling up out of her hands. The single tongue burned steady, lazily flickering in the cup of her fingers. A simple exercise to channel Sol's Light. Zinnia had no problem with it. In fact, she had a notable talent for adhering to the flame. If only she could turn that gift to the Void now!
He had been sitting with her for at least an hour now in the Central Study, trying to get the flame to shift to the compacted glow of the Void, to no avail. Summoning the Void cold, so to speak, had gone nowhere. He'd thought that perhaps attempting to transition already channeled Light might help speed things along. Clearly, that was also going nowhere. Why was it so difficult to summon the Void in her? Was she trying to thwart it?
He could see the tension between her eyes, her face slowly hardening as she concentrated.
"Breathe," he murmured, not wishing to disturb the quiet atmosphere. The study was lit by a single kerosene lamp — electric lighting was distasteful for such meditations — and by the fire in Zinnia's hands. Shadows danced over her pale blue face. A sheen of sweat sparkled on her brow.
"Do not think of yourself as separate from the Void," he said softly. "Its potential exists within you always. You think of it as opposite Sol's guidance, as the absence of Sol. This is incorrect. It exists alongside. One does not cancel the other eternally. One arises, the other falls, and so on through time. Sol has arisen in your body. Let the wave crest, and the Void swell up in its wake."
Zinnia's breath was shaking. She was starting to tremble. The girl was holding on too tightly! The flame in her hands shivered and went out. She sighed, slumping out of her meditation posture. Over Shenu's shoulder, Ushabti fidgeted, dark fins flickering.
Shenu resisted the urge to sigh himself. How could he explain this to her? For him, the Void simply appeared. He could no longer adequately describe what it had been like in the beginning. He simply felt it well up, a great yawning vacuum in his guts and lungs and heart, until it propagated in his palms. He let that feeling come now, and a humming violet sphere blossomed in his own upturned hand.
"Attend," he said, and Zinnia's back straightened immediately. There would be no lazing about in his lessons. So many Mentors let their Novices off the hook at the first sign of frustration and fatigue.
"Hold to your Light," he said. "I will pass you the Void and you will catch it as your own."
Zinnia's eyes grew wary. Shenu knew she wanted to ask a question.
"You will not be harmed, so long as you can allow your Light to embrace the Void I give to you."
Zinnia swallowed, looking even more anxious. In all likelihood, this would end with a bad burn. There was no point in stopping to soothe her. Her Ghost would be able to repair any wounds caused. And perhaps fear would help her break this wretched block at last!
"Hold out your hand," Shenu instructed. Obediently, she cupped her palm. He moved his hand to hers.
"Do not anticipate," he said when she flinched. "Concentrate on your Light."
He gave her a moment. He could feel her tension growing. She sat absolutely still. Even Ushabti, notorious wriggler that it was, did not blink.
He turned his palm over, letting the Void sphere detach. The gesture was not strictly necessary, but he felt he could at least give her a final warning. The sphere fell lightly to her hand. A flare of golden Light surrounded it, sparking against her palm and blinding them both. A moment later she cried out and clasped her hand to her chest. The Void sphere was gone. The lamp flickered.
"Heal her," Shenu sighed.
Perdita appeared from Rest, chittering and clicking while it worked over her palm. He had forbidden the Ghosts from speaking during these sessions in order to maintain calm and quiet. Zinnia had a bad habit of arguing with her Ghost. She ought not to give the creature such leeway to chide and torment! Perdita was too headstrong, and its murmurings now in the Ghost language were its way of bending his rules.
The smell of burnt flesh fouled the air, mingling with the cloying incense. Zinnia's small hand was a charred mess, barely recognizable as a hand anymore. The skin was both boiled and frozen where the two instances of Light had touched it. To her credit, Zinnia did not wail or moan, though tears did sparkle in the corners of her eyes. Ushabti watched her Ghost work, clicking thoughtfully before remembering to be quiet. Shenu rather wanted his Ghost to remain at Rest, but it was good for Ushabti to watch Manifested while the less experienced Ghost worked. Perdita was a respectable, sensible Ghost when it was not being prideful. That didn't mean it couldn't use some pressure in the form of Ushabti's physical presence. Ushabti had a lot of useless talents, but its penchant for quick and efficient healing was not to be underestimated.
Zinnia worked her healed hand into a fist several times, good as new. She turned away to wipe her eyes and compose herself. Shenu sat and considered his options. He could have her fetch a pair of gauntlets for Novices, ones that helped concentrate channeled Light. How he hated those devices, though! Cheap tricks for lazy pupils! And what use would they be if she couldn't summon the Void in the first place?
The girl was just being stubborn. She was getting in her own way time and time again. He would not coddle her with training apparatus and comfortable shielding! Besides, sometimes a sharp pain did wonders to clear the mind.
"I trust I don't have to explain what just happened," Shenu said.
Zinnia shook her head.
"No, Guardian," she answered quietly.
"Sol's Light would have shielded you for a time, but the reaction, as you saw, is explosive. You must match your Light to mine. You must call forth the Void."
"Yes, Guardian."
She looked tired and a little sickly in the lamplight. There would be a point where it would do no good to push her any longer. She would just hurt herself over and over again as she fell deeper into doubt and exhaustion.
This was not that point.
"We will use the remaining time to meditate on the Light," he announced. "You will use this new experience as a guide. You will remember the tenets of the Void."
"Yes, Guardian."
She was growing quieter and quieter. An obedient Novice did not need to be a mousy one!
"Speak up!" he snapped. "Do not sigh at me like an insolent Hunter!"
Zinnia flushed.
"Yes, Guardian!" she declared, a good deal more brightly.
He nodded and Zinnia settled back into her meditation posture, palms cradled, eyes downcast. He continued to sit opposite her, pretending to meditate himself. Instead he just watched her.
Those Cryptarchs were taking the stuffing out of her every day. He still maintained that her promise as a Warlock was exceptional. Why she chose to muddy up her priorities with that pack of fools was beyond him. Even more staggering was Ikora Rey's insistence that she do so! Zinnia's enthusiasm for the Cryptarchy he could chalk up to a Novice's ignorance and naivety. What was Ikora's excuse?
Perdita hovered over Zinnia's shoulder, her eye also downcast to the patterned rug. It was not useless to teach meditation techniques to a Ghost. Ushabti had long been tutored in such things. The effects were never quite the same, due to their vastly different neural structures, but he would not fault a Ghost for trying. About the only thing not disappointing in this whole situation was Perdita. The Ghost was perhaps the only reason Zinnia was not a complete loss yet, though his own mentoring had to take a lion's share of the credit. It wouldn't do to let Perdita develop an inflated ego.
The Bond on his left bicep stung once, as if a hundred little needles had suddenly pushed into his skin. He barely caught himself from hissing with pain. The damn thing was prone to such strange attacks lately. Zinnia did not stir from her meditation. If she had noticed, she gave no sign. Her own slim, silver Bond glinted in the lamplight. It was simple and unadorned, save for one tiny etched vine running through the center.
Perhaps he ought to take her Bond away. Tell her a Warlock who refused to channel could not rightly be called a Warlock for long. If she had to work to regain her Order status as hard as he had worked to be inducted into the Warlocks in the first place…
The datapad at the door to the study room beeped softly. Shenu grit his teeth. Ushabti made a move toward the door.
"I will answer," he reprimanded his Ghost. "Continue until the timer sounds," he instructed Zinnia.
The Tower pageboy standing in the doorway fidgeted with his coattails. He stared up at Shenu and thrust out his hand. A single-use encryption stick sat on his small palm. Shenu snatched it from the boy and sent him off with an irritated wave. The boy scampered down the hall and around the corner. Shenu eyed the stick in his hand. If this communique was what he thought it was, he'd be sure to give the New Monarchy a piece of his mind about entrusting it to the bratty children who made up the page network!
Glancing over his shoulder to make sure Zinnia was still attending to her task, he shut the door, isolating himself in the hall. He fished his datapad out of his vestment pocket and inserted the encryption stick. A tiny New Monarchy crown sigil flashed on the screen over a password prompt. He entered his identification. A message appeared a moment later.
Vanguard negotiations are going nowhere. The Bull is Hakke's last try. Do not look to my associate at the next Consensus meeting; he is a dead end. You and I will discuss options after.
—T
Shenu sighed and tapped the screen once. The message disappeared. He removed the stick and a few moments later it dissolved into a shard of glimmer in his hand. He pocketed the glimmer.
So Chancellor Thompson was not going to come right out and endorse him yet, was he? The Monarchy would rather have him wait for Hakke to court Shaxx's sympathy before they would pounce? Typical foolish Faction games! And as for the associate…he'd bet his Bond that referred to Hideo. The Monarchy spent more time playing against each other than anyone else, so it didn't surprise him that Thompson was not trying to get Hideo's assistance. That was fine with him. Hideo had his nose so far up Zavala's backside it was a wonder the man could see where he was going!
He pulled up the Tower intranet, looking for the Consensus schedule. He would have been at the next meeting whether or not the Chancellor had prompted him, but now he knew he must not miss it.
The timer chimed at long last. Zinnia let out her breath, caught it and looked anxiously for Shenu, then released it again when she realized he was still taking a private message outside the door. Perdita wriggled her fins, relieved to finally be able to move around. Zinnia thought she herself might be fused into the awkward, cross-legged posture Shenu insisted she assume for meditation. Ushabti hovered nearby, blinking curiously at them both.
She held out her previously burned hand and examined it.
Did it hurt very much? Ushabti spoke up. His soft voice always sounded like he could barely get his speech processors to work. It was as endearing as it was hard to hear. He was so very different from his Guardian.
"Light, yes!" Zinnia sighed. "I think the Void hurt worse than the flare of Sol's Light! It was so unbelievably cold!"
Um…may I see your hand? Ushabti asked. She was surprised by the question, but held out her hand for him. The Ghost hovered near, clicking and sending out a wash of Light. Perdita looked on, stonily silent.
A good, complete healing, he announced after a few moments. Well done, Ghost Perdita.
I should hope so! Perdita clicked, sounding more than a little frosty. She still did not like Ushabti going over her work.
"It was well done," Zinnia said, hoping to soothe her Ghost's ruffled fins. "Ugh, I don't think I'll ever get feeling back in my legs!" she grumbled, gingerly unfurling herself from the meditation posture. Her bare feet felt like blocks of rubber.
Um…I could fix that, Ushabti offered.
"No, thank you!" Zinnia laughed. "Perdita tried that once, and the pins and needles were ten times worse! I'll be fine. Besides —" she lowered her voice, glancing to the door to make sure Shenu wasn't coming back already — "I think Shenu wants me to go through it. Something about fortitude." She grinned at Ushabti. The Ghost chirped once, a tiny laugh, and the long spines of his shell quivered. It was the only mirth he allowed himself. He especially knew Shenu's penchant for lessons learned the hard way. It seemed to her that poor little Ushabti was often the pupil for those lessons, at least as much as she was.
The Ghosts watched her grimace and fidget as the feeling tingled back into her legs. Light, but it was unbearable! Couldn't Shenu give her one of those cushions he liked to use? He'd claimed they were for long meditations. Wasn't this long enough? Then again, he probably used them on his hours-long Dives.
The thought made her uncomfortable. She didn't much like contemplating Dives. What good did it do to dwell on the Before? In the early days, she had often entreated Perdita to tell her about where she had found her and any other details the Ghost knew. She herself could remember — albeit hazily — the Venusian jungles and clifftop grasses on the afternoon of her Rebirth. Perdita hadn't had much to offer except that she had been alone, was wearing civilian leathers when she had died, and that half her skull had been demolished by a heavy bullet. She had lain in the shadows of a little shack for some fifty-odd years. The shack had rusted in the briny, sulphuric air and she had become bones and cloth for the flora to cover and the fauna to pick over. Then, Perdita had arrived, and everything was new again.
Not that she wasn't ever curious about who she had been. But nobody had come looking for her. Nobody had waited in a crowd and called out to her. Whatever she had done, whoever she had been, was long forgotten to all. She'd had to make a new life for herself, and this seemed as good as any that could have come before. She adored Perdita, even if the little Ghost could be so aggravating, and she reveled in the Light. Before, there had been no Perdita and no Light, and thus her interest waned.
The pins and needles subsided and she was able to stand again. She smoothed her vestments and fussed with her bun.
"Thank goodness that's over!" she sighed in relief, luxuriating in a long stretch. "It feels like I've been hunting down the Void for days!"
You did very well, Ushabti chirped, floating up to her eye level.
"Tell that to him," Zinnia said ruefully, jerking her chin at the door.
Guardian Shenu pushes you because he believes in you. Ushabti blinked at her through his clouded lens, his fins twitching in their nervous way whenever he said something that made him embarrassed. Talking to her always seemed to make him embarrassed.
"We'll see how long his belief holds."
Don't worry! Ushabti said, coming a little closer. Um, I have never known a Warlock to not have trouble with some kind of Light.
"Even Shenu?" she asked skeptically.
Ushabti turned to glance at the door, then flitted closer, voice lowered conspiratorially.
Even Guardian Shenu! Your Sol grenades are his envy! Um, he still can't muster them as well as you do. Oh, it puts him in a foul mood!
Zinnia stifled a laugh behind her palm, imagining the senior Warlock sweating as much as she had been as he tried to summon the flame.
"Thanks, Ushabti," she grinned. He was doing his best to try to cheer her up, risking joking about his Guardian when they both knew that Shenu would be angry about it. She reached out and stroked one of his spines with the backs of her fingers, just above his old scar. Ushabti trilled and glanced away, shy as ever.
The study door opened and Shenu's dark form filled the doorway, black vestments even deeper than the room's shadows. His stony expression matched their severity. Whatever had interrupted the lesson had not brightened his day. Then again, nothing seemed like it could brighten the Warlock Mentor's day.
"Your lesson is concluded," he said brusquely. "Are you available tomorrow afternoon?"
Zinnia shook her head. "No, Guardian. I will be in the Archives."
Shenu nodded. His eyes remained cold.
"Very well. Inform me promptly when you are free. We must not delay."
That sounded just like what Master Rahool had told her that morning. She would not tell that to Shenu, however. She may not know how to brighten his day, but she surely knew how to make it worse.
"Yes, Guardian," she said instead. Shenu gestured her dismissal and she hurried to the door to get her boots on. She risked a glance back to smile at Ushabti in parting. The Ghost was still watching her from across the room while Shenu extinguished the lamp and straightened up the study.
Out in the hallway, she and Perdita blinked in the wintry sunlight spilling through the corridor windows.
"Sorry, Perdita," she said. "I don't think I'll ever get a handle on the Void."
Perdita clicked and bumped her shoulder affectionately.
Keep working.
Zinnia felt like getting some fresh air while the weather was still behaving. Adept Dudley was calling for more snow tonight. She really did like snow. It was just a pity that it had to be so cold! She wandered the winding paths that snaked through the North Tower past the Archives and passed through a series of oddly-shaped courtyards. One such courtyard had a swath of dead grass and an old, dry pool from a neglected water fountain. The Tower walls swept away at the far end of the courtyard, revealing a breathtaking view of Twilight Gap. Quarrel was sitting on the brown lawn, enjoying that view.
Zinnia was filled with joy at seeing her new friend, as well as a mix of curiosity and jealousy. The woman was so tall! She was everything she wished to be: her height, her elegance, the way she moved so easily. Tory had her marked for a Hunter, and as much as she wished to disagree with him, she suspected that he was right. Quarrel could surprise them yet, but that grace begged for the Hunters. And she had a ship! And her very own weapon as a trophy from battle! Guardians were already abuzz with her exploits at only three days old.
Despite all that, she was humble and kind. Quarrel hadn't yelled at her for the prank she had played with the elevator. So she would swallow her jealousy and help her settle in to Guardian life the best she could.
Quarrel sat looking out toward the Gap. She always seemed to be looking toward the horizon with longing. That too spoke of a Hunter. It was not enough for those cloakswishers to hear stories or read books about a place. They always wanted to see a thing for themselves. Zinnia thought she could understand that, but it was a little nicer to be able to read about the wilds from the comfort of her bed in the Tower.
Quarrel's pale grey eyes squinted in a smile when Zinnia approached.
"Well, how did it go?" Zinnia asked, taking a seat on the dry grass next to her.
"You were right," Quarrel said. "The Speaker is like no one else."
Zinnia grinned. How she wished she could have another meeting!
"I knew you'd like him!"
"I feel better," Quarrel said, looking back toward the Gap. "Purposeful."
"I felt the same," Zinnia agreed. "The Speaker inspires in a way that the Vanguard can only dream about."
"I didn't know there was a Darkness," Quarrel said softly. "Ghost mentioned it. He was trying to tell me. But the Speaker…I thought…" she trailed off, shaking her head.
"What?" Zinnia prompted.
"It's stupid."
"You can tell me!"
"When he spoke of the Darkness…the shadows gathered. Only his voice kept them away."
She glanced at Zinnia as if to catch her laughing.
"I said it was stupid."
"It's not!" Zinnia insisted. "The Darkness is out there, sometimes closer than we think. When you are with a Guardian whose Light shines so brightly, the Darkness throws its shadows. You are of the Light. You can't help but feel its antithesis!"
Quarrel still looked thoughtful.
"What's wrong?" Zinnia asked.
"I still have so many questions," she said. "There's so much I want to understand." Again her gaze drifted to the towering mountains. "He said I was a weapon of the Light. But how can I fight this Darkness? Why me? I'm nobody. Maybe I have always been nobody."
Zinnia felt a wave of sympathy. She remembered these questions, though she didn't remember them hitting her so hard as they were troubling her friend now.
"Does it matter anymore who you were?" she asked gently.
Quarrel considered the question and was silent.
"Do you remember anything?" Quarrel asked eventually.
"Nope!" Zinnia answered cheerfully. She hoped that her good mood could dispel some of her friend's doubt.
"Doesn't that bother you?"
"Nope!"
She laughed at Quarrel's expression. The woman would eventually see what was so funny!
"Believe me, I know how you feel! It's just that I decided a long time ago that it didn't matter. I am here now. I have Perdita. I have the Light. The whole universe is out there, and I can see it again! Death was not the end!"
Quarrel nodded, though she still didn't look convinced.
"There's no way I will ever remember, is there?" she asked.
Zinnia shrugged, plucking at the dead grass tufts.
"There are ways to try," she said slowly, wondering if she should even mention these things. "They aren't foolproof, and they're very advanced. I'd say you'd have better luck trying to interpret a drunk Ghost's scans than untangling your experiences from a Dive."
"A Dive?" Quarrel frowned at the word.
"A Thanatonaut Dive. Thanatonauts bring themselves to Revive in order to probe their minds at death. Well, as close as they can get to death, being a Guardian."
"Bring themselves to Revive…you mean they kill themselves?" Quarrel looked suitably alarmed at the idea.
"Yes," Zinnia replied. "It started as a cycle-down exercise from the Exos, discovered in the Crucible. Then Guardian Shenu postulated it might work on organic Guardians as well, and he began to study his deaths. He's been at it for a very long time. As far as I know, he hasn't learned much. Nobody has. Just fragments of memories, more delirium than truth."
"Guardian Shenu…" Quarrel murmured, thinking. "I met him. Dark eyes? Frowns a lot? Wears that black bracelet?"
"That's him," Zinnia agreed. She grinned at Quarrel's description of him and the Bond. Shenu would not be pleased to hear either things referred to that way. It was funny, but perhaps she should educate her friend about Warlock Bonds so she didn't have to embarrass herself.
"It's called a Bond," she corrected. She held out her left arm so Quarrel could get a look at her own. "It's the symbol of the Warlock Order."
"Like Hunter cloaks?" Quarrel ventured.
"Uh huh. Although, these do more than just look good. A Bond helps you focus your Light." Cloaks were neat and all, but Bonds held so much more potential!
She looked at Quarrel curiously.
"You met Shenu? I'm surprised he didn't pounce on you with questions! He's always muttering that he'd like a new Guardian to talk to."
"Well…he did mention he would like to speak with me if I remembered anything."
"Sounds like him." Zinnia rolled her eyes. "He grilled me when I was first assigned to him, even though it had been months since my Rebirth. I don't know that he's ever really recovered from his disappointment when I told him I couldn't remember anything."
Quarrel smiled sympathetically. They watched a crow circling on the wind.
"I want to go back to the Cosmodrome," Quarrel announced.
"When? Now?" The very idea filled Zinnia with giddy glee. She had never been there, but she'd heard the stories from Cayde's scouts about a swarming nest of Fallen squabbling over Golden Age technology. She was immediately jealous again. Of course Quarrel would have a gun and a ship and an exciting story after being Reborn in a place like that! She had been languishing in a deserted trader outpost on Venus, without so much as a can-opener lying around nearby!
"Soon," Quarrel answered. She played with the edge of the scarf she wore, a present from her Ghost. "Very soon. Amanda Holliday has been working on my ship. It's supposed to be ready any day now."
"I wonder if the Vanguard will authorize it?" Zinnia mused.
Quarrel's expression grew troubled.
"Why wouldn't they?"
"Well, you're new. The Cosmodrome is a dangerous place — not like I have to tell you that! They probably won't want to risk you going in alone. Not until you're more experienced."
"I guess I don't have to go alone," Quarrel said. Zinnia's hopes rose.
"I'll go with you!" she offered, hoping she didn't sound too pathetically eager. She was desperate to patrol somewhere new. If she had to make the same boring circuit around the provinces with Shenu one more time…!
Quarrel looked pleased at the suggestion.
"I'd be happy to have you along. That is, if you don't mind poking around some old ruins."
"Have you met a Warlock? You'd better bring some bags, because we're taking home as much as we can carry! Ooh! If we can get something really good there, I bet Master Rahool would let me off of shelving duty at last!" She could already imagine it: her triumphant return to the Archives with Golden Age tech that would make the Cryptarch's golden eyes pop out of his head. He'd give her the day off. He'd release her from the penances. Light, he might even let her onto the Vault Project!
"We should go check on your ship now!" she cried.
"Sorry," Quarrel laughed. "It's not ready yet! I was just at the Hangar."
Zinnia sighed. Hurry up and wait. Wasn't that always the way of it?