Heretical Fishing

Book 4: Chapter 18: Both

Book 4: Chapter 18: Both

The slightest of breezes occasionally flicked past as I stared out at the ocean, its surface calm but for the small waves crashing on the shore. The sky above was a canvas of red and pink that slowly bled to yellow the closer it got to the mountains behind me, and I released a breath as I appreciated the swathe of colors even an expert painter would struggle to replicate.

A fur-covered head bumped against my thigh, and I smiled down at the goodest of boys. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Borks whined in agreement, staring up at me with a tongue lolling from the side of his mouth. He was in his default Golden Retriever form, and I scratched behind his ear, both of us enjoying the touch. After a good scritching, I patted him on the top of his head. “Let’s unload your dimensional space. It shouldn’t take long.”

He barked, turned, and ran toward the cart that the others had just finished unpacking.

“Ohhhh,” Deklan drawled, “look who finally came to help.”

I immediately adopted a haughty air, standing taller and puffing my chest out. “Did I say you could speak, peasant? Wait until my lord father hears about this...”

“He’s finally gone mad with power.” Dom shook his head. “Maria was right all along.”

“You dare?” I recoiled as if physically struck, contorting my face into a mix of disgust, confusion, and anger. “I could have you whipped like butter-based frosting. I could have your buns beaten until toasted. I could have your entirely family packaged up like so many sugary donuts, then sell you at a discount like the poors that you are—”

A familiar presence approached, and I cut myself off.

Barry strode across the sand, one eyebrow slightly arched at the colorful words I’d been using. He wasn’t the presence that had halted my passionate diatribe, though. The smaller man beside him, not yet tall enough to reach his father’s shoulders, wore more pride than I’d ever seen him wield. His aura was familiar, but undeniably different.

My words had initially died because I didn’t want to say anything uncouth around the impressionable lad, but now it was an entirely different thing holding my tongue. Paul, Barry and Helen’s only son, had become a cultivator. Something about his aura was… muted. Like there was something sealing off the rest of his power.

As he got closer to us, he must have sensed a portion of our combined power, because a flicker of hesitation appeared. His eyes darted to his father. And while he gazed up at the marble sculpture of a man, I wondered what was going through his mind. They had a healthy bond, and it was normal for a boy to see his dad as the strongest man he’d ever seen—but what if your dad actually was the strongest man you’d ever seen? What did Paul see in his mind’s eye when he looked up at the real-life version of a Greek god...?

I didn’t have to wait long for an answer.

Some of Paul’s pride returned after but a moment, his nostrils flaring and shoulders straightening as the mere act of looking at his father seemed to reinforce his spine. Barry, despite what one might expect from his particular image of hyper-masculinity, got down on one knee and scooped his son into a comforting embrace. Every ounce of hesitation and worry sloughed away from Paul as he grinned and made a token effort to push his father away.

Barry lifted his son with ease, then set him down before me and released him, a hand remaining on his son’s shoulder to remind him it was going to be okay. It might have been a small gesture, but its impact was great.

“Paul, mate...” I said, smirking at how tall he was standing. “I know it’s been a while since I last saw you, but I don’t think time explains how much you’ve changed…”

His answering smile could have lit the ocean's depths. “Hi Fischer! I became a cultivator yesterday! Just like you and my dad and my mom and Uncle Leroy! Oh, and Auntie Barbara! And—”

“I can see that, mate,” I interrupted with a chuckle, then continued before he could start rattling off names again. “How long have you, uhhh—”

“Known about cultivators?” he blurted.

“Yeah. That.”

“Ages!”

Barry gave me an apologetic look. “I can probably answer that in more detail. Paul has known since the king’s attack, but he suspected—”

“I knew you were a traveler since forever ago!” Paul said, leveling a finger at me. “I heard Mom and Dad and Uncle Leroy and Aunty Barabara talking about it!”

Barry winced and rubbed the back of his head. “Well, there you have it. We’ve been keeping him away from everything since then, which is why you’ve not seen him around. Obviously, we could no longer hide it after the battle.”

“It was so cool! The explosions were like fireworks, and then the boulders! Covered in lightning! Then you were there—or that’s what Mum says anyway—and it was like... giant lights everywhere all at once! How did you do that? Dad said maybe I can do that too if I train and remain good! Or maybe I can get super strong like him! What does my core feel like? Mom said you’re much better at sensing them than anyone else!”

With each unhinged sentence, my joy blossomed further. Paul may have become something more than his age, but he was still a boy at heart, which was something we had to protect at all costs. I couldn’t think of anything worse than someone growing up too quickly.

All it took was a quick glance toward Barry to see that he was sharing the same thoughts. We both nodded, not needing to voice the agreement.

“All right,” I said, stepping forward. “Why don’t the three of us go for a walk? This is something huge, Paul, and now that you’re a cultivator...” I leaned in close, looking around conspiratorially. “There are some secrets I have to tell you...”

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By his reaction, you’d have thought I had just told him I’d buried a tonne of candy somewhere nearby. As I led him and Barry down to the water, his thoughts raced, their tone continually shifting. All were positive, so I let them run rampant. And only when they became tinged with the faintest whisper of anxiety did I speak.

“Okay, Paul,” I said, kneeling down so we were eye-to-eye. “Are you ready?”

He nodded.

“First, I should ask your dad what he’s told you so far. Barry?”

“Well, suspecting his awakening would one day arrive, we’ve been emphasizing the responsibility of those with power since before the church formed. After the king attacked, we stepped it up even more. And over the last couple of days...” He patted his son on the upper back. “How many hours did you spend learning with Ellis yesterday?”

“All of them! And I didn’t complain once! Even when he had Pelly and Bill drop me out of the—” He clapped his hands to his mouth to cut himself off, a burst of panic coming from his half-muted core.

The air grew dangerous, and Barry leaned down, looking into his son’s eyes. “Drop you out of the what, Paul?”

“It… It was supposed to be a secret...”

“What did Ellis have them do, Paul? Tell me.”

Paul’s face fell, and the words came out as a whisper. “He had them drop me from the sky…”

“Where did this happen?”

“Please don’t be angry. It was fun after the first few times, because I realized it wouldn’t hurt.”

The air warped around Barry, an odd hum suffusing our surroundings. “Where, Paul?”

“Past the mountains. He said it was safer to do it away from everyone—”

The hum coming from Barry grew sharp, cutting Paul off. “Safer for him, because no one would see.” He stood to his full height, his body shivering with fury. “Can you continue this conversation without me, Fischer? I believe I have to go have a chat with our mutual friend…”

“Of course, mate. Do what you gotta do.”

Surprisingly, Borks stepped forward to join him, a bone-deep anger burning within him. Before I could ask, Borks sent his feelings through our connection. Ellis had endangered a young member of the pack—such things could not remain unchecked.

With each step Barry took back toward Tropica, the ground shook.

Cinnamon, out of nowhere, leaped to Barry’s shoulder and started punching one closed paw into the other. Unsure if she was genuinely angry at Ellis or just looking for an excuse to deliver a good beat down, I queried her. As with Borks, she offered it up freely. As her emotions washed over me, I couldn’t help but pity the man they were off to find.

“Which was it?” Deklan asked after a moment.

“Huh?”

“Her motivation.” He pointed at Cinnamon. “I can tell Borks’s with a glance, but Cinnamon is harder to read. Is she genuinely angry, or is she just looking for any reason to kick the shit out of someone?”

I snorted. “Worse.”

“Worse? What could be worse?”

“It’s both. She’s pissed at Ellis and looking for an excuse to belt the absolute piss out of anyone she can.”

The twins cringed, both releasing an audible hiss of air through their teeth.

***

Despite being within the walls of a supernatural prison, Ellis was having a wonderful evening. With so many experiments to run and observations to record lately, he had found little time to slow down and enjoy life. And to Ellis, nothing was as relaxing as crafting. He had dabbled in every profession he knew of, and though they all had calming qualities, leatherworking stood high above all the others. Well, that had been the case—until he discovered alchemy.

The moment he had learned that they could hide the presence of cultivators—even from someone as powerful as Fischer—he knew that he would have to explore the craft. He had thought to learn the basics. To glean just enough that he could guard against it. But then he had felt its magic for the first time.

Previously, Ellis would have scoffed if he had heard anyone other than a child or a dullard refer to something as magic. Yet he could find no better descriptor for the process occurring before his very eyes. Rather than chi rushing and slamming into the cauldron, it flowed in with unhurried ease, expertly weaved by the alchemist Solomon. Beside Solomon, Francis was a man possessed, passing off ingredients before the former could finish asking for them.

Together, the men were a force of nature. And Francis was not even a cultivator, making their coordination even more impressive, though that would soon change if he continued down the path he was treading. If presented with the crafting of any other profession, Ellis would have focused on the unascended man, intent on gaining insight into his eventual awakening.

Instead, Ellis stared into the mixture, its dark blue swirls seeming to draw him in. It had started as a thin liquid, with a consistency akin to purified water. From there, it had become like salt water or blood, somehow thickening despite not losing any vapor. Now, it was as thick as soup, and all Solomon had added was plant-based materials.

But Ellis well knew it wasn’t the ingredients causing the transformation; it was the essence. Its slow and methodical addition mystified Ellis, because it defied the control that a newly awakened cultivator should have. Something about Solomon’s alchemy was different. Ellis was sure of it. No matter how long he stared, though, the secrets remained undiscovered.

With frustration billowing up, Ellis rallied his thoughts, focusing on what he knew.

There were two possibilities. The first was that it was something unique to alchemy, the profession somehow allowing more finesse than anything else. If this was the case, Ellis hadn’t been able to replicate it. Which was why he suspected the second theory, that Solomon was special?, having somehow earned more control than any other—including Fischer when he was at that stage of cultivation.

It made no gods-damned sense. Ellis pressed his forehead against the bars that contained the two men. He focused on the icy touch of the metal as he closed his eyes, trying to brute-force a solution for this vexing conundrum.

Unfortunately for Ellis, and for more than one reason, the former archivist had chosen the worst possible moment to close his eyes.

The first was that Francis’s awakening arrived. It happened so fast that Ellis missed almost all of it, his eyes firmly shut and attention aimed within. He returned to the world as fast as he could, only just catching the last of the golden light as it left the newly ascended alchemist. A wave of euphoria washed over him, which would have brought a smile to his face if not for the exasperation and sheer incredulity keeping him grounded.

Quick as it arrived, the body-wide bliss was gone. And just as suddenly, another presence filled the void left behind. An oppressive aura engulfed him, seeming to force itself upon every inch of his being. He had felt this sensation before. He knew its source well. That alone would have been enough to make his blood run cold. This time, though, there were additional layers present. Hints of fury, reprimand, and... excitement?

With a tight chest and prickling skin, Ellis slowly turned to look at the other reasons he’d chosen the worst possible moment to close his eyes. Barry, his body vibrating with fury, was more muscular than Ellis had ever seen him. Borks strode beside him, his hackles high and head lowered.

From atop Barry’s shoulder, Cinnamon sneered down at Ellis with an imperious glare. She was the source of the excitement, and with no small amount of alarm, Ellis realized there was more depth to her core. Cinnamon had experienced a breakthrough.

Ellis swayed, his legs giving way before the weight of what was to come. Barry closed the distance in a flash, one of his muscular arms more than enough to keep Ellis upright.

“Hello, mate.” Barry’s voice was harder than granite and colder than ice. “I was just chatting to my son, and he told me the darndest thing...”