Threads 511-Ith 5

Lin Mei, Minister Tang’s assistant, straightened up.

Tcho-Ri let out a short, sharp yip, but then caught herself and nodded.

They ascended the narrow staircase, which ran around the circular chamber. It wound around and around, rising up the narrow tower. They passed several floors, increasingly organic, where small numbers of ith were arrayed in a position that seemed prayerful, hands clasped over their heads, bellies down to the floor.

These ith were all aged and withered, their bristles white and crumbling, their features sunken, and their breathing labored. They lacked any of the piercing that the other ith had. Despite the heat and atmosphere, they radiated calm and serenity, peaceful sleepers all. The impurity in the air was thick enough to make her eyes water, even with the protection from her mask. Qiyi rustled in agitation.

They arrived at the top of the stairs.

The air thrummed with vibration and was thick with humid heat. Veins containing brackish black fluid pulsed in the walls. The small room was centered on a singular feature: a rising ridge of flesh growing out of one wall.

It was composed of the fused bodies of ith in varying states. Those nearest the bottom were the most distinct, their outlines fully visible, arms outstretched upward, clasped onto the melting limbs of those above. All tangled together and curled in on each other, silhouettes faded as they rose higher in the mass, becoming fuzzy outlines and then indistinct lumps until at last, they were indistinguishable from the flesh which lined the inside of the tower.

“This is the third mind, the third heart of Ha, who oversees this city. As you can feel, they are near empty now in the off-season. The incarnate assembly is scattered, performing their tasks across fields and mines.”

Ling Qi swallowed down the nausea in her stomach that the impurity and the sight stirred and suppressed the revulsion that arose. There was something of a spirit here, but it was hollow, like an empty water vessel, with only a whisper of thought spiraling and sparking through the conduits.

“This entity is your leader?” Minister Tang raised an eyebrow. He looked unperturbed. “A gestalt spirit, fed the memories of your passing elders and ancestors in order to give guidance?”

“To give oneself to the Mind directly as their body grows feeble is a high honor for those whose deeds have brought prosperity to Ha. Tcho-Ri hopes to be among them one day, when her heart fails and her self dies. The Minister Tang’s assertion is not fully correct. The dead cannot and should not command the living. It is only with the incarnate assembly that the Minds may be awake. Out of session, only the simple dreams of the people and deposited wisdom of the past are here.”

Minister Tang’s eyebrows drew together in perplexity, and he turned to Zhu Fan. Zhu Fan’s brows were furrowed as well.

“There are methods of communion between some dozens of cultivators. These Minds are not so different in practice than war formations, wherein an officer empowers their formation while being empowered in turn,” Zhu Fan theorized. “The bleed of spirits and the breakdown of identity, particularly with mere mortals or their equivalents, suggests a scale that is absurd.”

“The Mind is singing,” Ling Qi said. “I can hear the voices of the ones below, too. Those are still alive?”

Tcho-Ri tilted her head, growling low in her throat. She was surprised that Ling Qi could… What, discern the underlying harmony?

“Those below are in their final days of self-hood,” Tcho-Ri revealed. “Honored Guests, this one can offer you witness to the Incarnate Assembly when its next session takes place. Please understand that I am not attempting to deceive when I describe the current matter. Tcho-Ri and her peer voices are those who are able to speak and choose in the interim, and we are chosen anew at each assembly.”

Ling Qi considered what she had seen and heard thus far, and a notion came to her. “It is as if the ministries rule here in the day-to-day.”

The ith considered this: “Perhaps? My knowledge is limited. Is a ministry a department of experts on a single subject empowered by the god to make decisions within the remit of their expertise?”

“We will need a long discussion on the matter, but there is some merit to the comparison,” Minister Tang acknowledged grudgingly. “However, right now, there is the matter of the other city and its demands. This is the matter that needs to be spoken of immediately.

“Tcho-Ri will access the sleeping wisdom of the Mind for this, if her own knowledge is deemed insufficient as promised. It is difficult to make words from this, with only one Voice in communion,” the ith warned, bowing low.

She braced herself for pain, like a cultivator preparing for a tribulation. It wasn’t only a matter of difficulty.

“Then the Baroness’ skill will be useful, if the emanations of this spirit defy traditional translation,” Zhu Fan said mildly. “I sense our time for questioning shall be limited.”

“One voice alone may only endure so much of the Voice of God,” Tcho-Ri agreed.

“I would say for you to work your will, Minister Zhu, but your qi is too pure,” Minister Tang concluded. “It would damage this structure.”

“Like a sovereign’s qi injected into a mortal’s meridians, at my judgement,” Minister Tang’s assistant said. “The network appears remarkably fragile at this location.”

Tcho-Ri’s breathing hitched.

“I will not demand this. Baroness, you say you hear this Mind’s singing?”

“I do. It is very subtle, little different from the harmony audible from the city itself.”

“I believe we may make several inferences on their intentions, merely with the knowledge we have gained here,” Zhu Fan said. “However, we must begin with the intentionality and methods behind this most recent attack and the message that followed.”

“None of the mortals apprehended for their participation could be interrogated, even with the Baroness’ lead. Studying the residue left behind when they expired has been useful for improving the detection capabilities of security, though,” Minister Tang said.

“And Tcho Ri may have answers for this, without needing deep communion. This Mind node, and her specialty, is foreign affairs and… intelligence?”

The last word was a few sharp yips in rapid succession, spoken with hesitation. The more direct translation might be ”self and other knowing.”

“I believe you have used the right word, if you mean diplomacy and spycraft,” Ling Qi suggested.

Tcho-Ri nodded after a pause. “This is the correct meaning.”

“Then access your archive, and answer the question,” Minister Tang demanded.

Tcho-Ri’s ears twitched, her teeth grinding slightly. Ling Qi would have taken it for frustration or anger, but it seemed more like agitated nerves. The ith loped forward and took in a panting breath as she laid out her palms against the smooth, faintly pulsing surface of the ridge across what seemed like the back of one of the ith that was lowest in the fused mass.

Her fingers sank inward like soft clay, and thin filaments of flesh rose from the surface to plunge into Tcho-Ri’s hands. Their guide stiffened, like she was being shocked, and Ling Qi could feel a strange surge in the previously quiescent harmony of the Mind, like a slow-flowing brook suddenly overflowing its banks in a thunderstorm.

Stolen novel; please report.

“Honored Guests. Please ask. Questions. Of. Clear and. Limited. Scope.”

Tcho Ri spoke haltingly, and Ling Qi understood immediately, remembering how Snowblossom Lake had innocently tried to stuff her head with thousands of years of climate data for a simple question. “Questions with too much room for tangents will cause overload.”

Minister Tang glanced at her. “Like that, then. This assembly distributes the load.”

He did not phrase it as a question.

“I believe it is more complicated than that, but yes, best to treat this like a spirit oracle,” Zhu Fan advised. “What method was used to ensorcel the mortals whose details our missive provided?