Entering the Compound (Caveman Chronicles)

The Index -|-

Zara woke from her slumber when she heard Viinox’s footsteps in the hallway. She sat up and turned her head. “Where have you been all week?”

“Yeah,” said Kpleeb grumpily as he stood and worked the cricks from his back. “These reed mats are terrible. I guess I’ve gotten used to the comfy hammocks on the Greki.”

Viinox stopped and retrieved a thin tablet from its pack. “I think I’ve found the key word.”

Zara stood excitedly. “Wow, I bet it was hard to find! What is it?”

“Before I tell you, I want to explain what I found. This information reveals much about the Xih. I searched for the library and found nothing special, but there was a reference to the oldest physical portion of the library.” Viinox pointed in a seemingly random direction. “I went there and found actual, physical records and a very old library terminal complete with an ancient data entry system.”

Kpleeb grunted. “Will this long story of yours last another week?”

“Da,” said Zara gently, “Viinox said this is important.”

Kpleeb took a long pull from a tumbler of water. “Alright, alright. Go ahead then.”

“So I searched for a few words before I found the right pattern. Xih was first. Apparently, it meant ‘seven’ in a very old dialect. There was a Council of Xih many years past in the earliest days of the Xi expansion. I found that the Council of Xih was a guidance committee that served the Predominant by providing information and recommendations for various decisions such as which laws were needed and which planets would be a priority for colonization. Quite possibly, they served the original Predominant.”

Kpleeb was listening now and issued a low whistle.

“Anyway,” said Viinox, “it appears the Council of Xih took control of the Predominant. There is are old records where the Council disagreed with and countermanded the Predominant’s edicts. It’s difficult to say what happened in the background, but the Council’s orders were adhered to, not the word of the Predominant. This indicates a power struggle. There was a change in empire’s foundation because a few dozen years later, there is a record of Na’s destruction and replacement.”

Zara shook her head. “Wait, you’re saying the Predominant were in charge and then the Xih conducted a coup and replaced them?”

“Replaced them with who?” said Kpleeb. “I’m confused.”

“I believe the Xih started by replacing Na with an Ixant they created and could control.” Viinox tapped the tablet it held. “Though they are not named, there are vague records of beings imbued with special powers. Zara, we know that they call you Ixant fifteen.

“So the whole Xi empire on every orb has been governed by the Xih for a long time then?” Kpleeb shook his head in amazement. “And the Xi don’t even know.”

“I believe this to be true. Anyway, the Xih created kerflk under a different name, which brings us to this key. The original designation for kerflk,” Viinox confirmed. “Pre-Consolidation. The term was standardized to kerflk during the imperial reform period. Most records with the original name were purged from active archives. This record survived because it was ceremonial rather than administrative. They accidentally preserved their rituals even as they revised their history.” Viiinox glanced at its tablet. “Listen to this. ‘From the unworked stone, the maker’s hand calls forth the edge that cuts, the answer that lives in the willing grip. This slips through the walls built to contain it. The knowing tool, remembers the hand that shaped it and opens to the voice that speaks its name.'” It nodded at Zara. “Are you ready?”

Zara opened herself to the aji-realm and then nodded.

“Kriifal,” Viinox said.


The symbol flared in both the visible and the aji spectrums. Once, twice, a pulse of light so bright that for a moment the entire chamber was visible in the aji-realm as it might have been centuries ago—pristine, lit, alive with the movement of imperial functionaries long turned to dust. Then the light gathered along the edges of the door and the stone itself began to move. It did not slide. It was grinding. The sound was low and massive, stone against stone with the patient, inexorable weight of something that had been waiting a very long time.

Kpleeb dropped to one knee and pointed his lightning spear at the now visible opening, and the Ganix fanned out to do the same.

The door opened inward, which was the first surprise. Xi architecture favored sliding mechanisms, recessed panels, and the clean efficiency of things that moved along tracks. This door ground on pivots set deep into the stone, rotating on an axis that should not have been possible given the weight and thickness. The sound it made was the sound of very old engineering being asked to perform a long neglected duty.

Beyond the threshold was a deep gloom. Cool air moved past them, carrying a scent that Zara categorized automatically: ancient stone, the faint metallic tang of preserved systems, and underneath both, something vegetal and unfamiliar, like leaves crushed underfoot in a forest she had never visited.

Kpleeb activated his light first. The beam cut through the darkness and revealed a corridor that was nothing like the grand administrative chamber where they stood. The passage was a perfect triangle in cross-section, its walls meeting at a pointed ceiling that lofted three meters overhead. The surfaces were smooth, polished to a finish that caught the illuminator beam and threw it back in precise, geometric reflections. No carvings. No imperial markings. No evidence of the bureaucratic obsessive decoration that had covered every surface of the structure outside. Just clean lines and perfect angles, the architecture of a space designed for a single purpose that its builders had not seen fit to advertise.

“It’s clean,” Viinox observed. Its voice carried a hint of genuine surprise, carefully contained. “No dust. No debris. This corridor has been maintained.”

They advanced, Kpleeb and two Ganix at point, a low illumination emitting from the bottom corners of the corridor as soon as they stepped over the threshold. Zara and Viinox followed behind them, close enough to communicate while speaking quietly. The remaining Ganix covering the rear. They moved quietly, but the acoustics of the triangular corridor turned even the softest footfall into a sound that traveled, bouncing off the polished surfaces and returning as faint, distorted echoes.

The corridor ran straight for thirty paces, then intersected with another identical passage. Left and right branches offered the same featureless triangular geometry. Kpleeb chose left after a brief consultation with Viinox, who had produced a compact scanner and was reading its display with focused attention.

“The energy signature is strongest in this direction,” Viinox said. “Approximately two hundred paces ahead. There’s a chamber or a junction that’s larger than the corridors.” In a few minutes, they approached another junction. “Just around the corner,” murmured Viinox quietly.

They advanced with greater caution and peered around the corner. Ahead, the corridor widened, the triangular cross-section expanding gradually until the pointed ceiling was lost in shadows and the walls curved outward to meet what could only be described as an antechamber. Circular, maybe thirty paces in diameter, its floor inlaid with a pattern of concentric rings alternating between a marbled white stone and some dark material that absorbed rather than reflected light. A tall door made of the same dark material was set into the far wall flanked by six alcoves that each held a stationary figure dressed in a deep brown tunic.

Kpleeb held out his hand slowly and whispered. “As soon as we step into the hall, they’ll know we’re here. We’ll need to attack all at once.”

Always ready, the Ganix warriors shifted on the balls of their feet and stayed silent.

Kpleeb whispered “After three.” He thrust his fist downward slowly three times and on the third, raised his lightning spear and fired. A dozen channels cracked through the antechamber at once, each a white-blue fork that struck an alcove and shards of stone and wood blew apart in a flat bang of light. The warriors began to sprint toward the room.

In a cloud of debris, four of the Xih guards crumpled and fell out of their alcoves, but the remaining two appeared to be unfazed and leapt from their spots to level their long staves. Two of the Gannix collapsed and began to scream, clawing at their temples, but the remaining Ganix closed the distance and quickly overwhelmed the tall, cloaked Xih, piercing them over and over with their short, thin spears.

Just then, the dark rings on the floor disappeared entirely and several Ganix warriors fell into the spaces beneath the floor.

Return to Yefrtil (Caveman Chronicles)

The Index -|-

Zara followed her da through the enormous front door to the Grand Yefrtil Administrative Center. They had been here before, wandering the seemingly endless halls full of ancient beauty. This time, a nervous energy tickled her scalp. “I hope we can actually find the Xih,” she said quietly.

Kpleeb turned , his footsteps echoing between the smooth marble floor and the high ceiling overhead that glowed with a pale green light. “What did you say, Zara?” His brow furrowed in question.

“I said,” Zara started, “I hope-“

A case clattered to the floor as Viinox lost its grip on the handle.

Zara grimaced. at the interruption “I said, I hope we can actually find the Xih. This place is huge. It’s possible the clues we have are only a stepping stone to the next thing.” She raised her hands. “This could be an endless search here on Yefrtil and on any number of other orbs.”

Kpleeb nodded. “We need to do one thing at a time and that thing is Yefrtil right now.” He pointed toward Viinox and Kanta walking toward the triangular structures in the distance. “Let’s get settled, set up, and run our scans.”

Zara nodded and began to follow him. Her da’s legs were much longer, and soon she fell behind. The halls in the Grand Yefrtil administrative Center were deceptively long, and by the time she arrived, Kanta and Viinox had completed their integration with the Xi library systems.

“Well, hello there, short stuff,” Kpleeb said with a grin. “Where have you been?”

Zara grinned back at him. “I stopped for a nap, da, and dinner too. Is the scan equipment ready? I’d really love to get started.” She waved at the group of Ganix warriors that stalked nearby like lions in tall grass.

Viinox and Kanta reached into their cases and handed each warrior a yellow rod the length of their forearm. Viinox pointed at the glossy, black tip. “You must keep the black end above your head at all times. You should traverse each hallway as fast as you please and come back here when you have seen every available space.”

The Ganix warriors turned the rods over in their hands and stood stiffly as if waiting for more instructions.”

“You may go now,” said Zara waving the back of her hand at them. “Make sure you enter every space.”

The warriors bounded away like jackrabbits, sprinting into the distance and soon disappearing from sight.

Kanta was pushing buttons on her console. “The feeds are already coming in,” she bubbled. With a flipper, she tabbed through a series of indistinct black and white images filled with lines. “I love how fast these Ganix are.” The images disappeared and symbols began to flow into the data cloud that hovered above her visual device.

Zara leaned in. “It’s working, we just need more. I wonder how long it will take for the Ganix to finish? The end of the main hall is about a day’s travel for most people.” She turned to look down the hallway. The end of it was invisible behind an atmospheric fog that obscured every feature.

Kanta waddled over to a pile of soft bags that had contained some of the equipment and flopped down. “Time for a nap.” Her big eyes closed immediately as soon as her head laid back, and her gills fluttered softly within her water-helmet.

“I’m a bit jealous that she can do that so quickly,” said Kpleeb. He grabbed his bag and lightning spear. “I’m going back to the Greki to talk to Daert. Let me know if we find anything, okay?”

Zara nodded. “I’ll be here watching the reports. Hoping for a match to one of our clues.” She watched Kpleeb walk out the door and then turned back to the cloud of data. The whole cloud flickered as patterns, symbols, and lines flashed incredibly fast, each one appearing for a fraction of a second. After a few moments, she turned to one of the Xi library devices. Carefully, she copied the symbol that they had found on Nidix and issued a search. She had already searched from the command center on the Hsstak, but it was connected with the Xi knowledge base in a limited way and had returned nothing. The Xi library held the complete repository of Xi knowledge as far as Zara knew.

The library search displayed a silvery triangle with lines that extended and retracted from each point in a repeating pattern. It was mesmerizing, but after a few moments, Kanta’s data cloud flickered red for a second and emitted a quiet noise.

Zara swiveled her head and waved her hand excitedly toward Kanta and Viinox. “We found the symbol! Look, it is located about a quarter of the way along the structure in one of the nooks.”

Viinox analyzed the display momentarily before lifting its chin. “This is the same as what we saw on Nidix, but the analysis is not complete. We must scout this location.”

“I’ll stay here,” bubbled Kanta. “We may need immediate access to the Xi library.”

They packed with the efficiency of people who had done this many times before. The Ganix fell into formation without being ordered. Zara stood and slipped her arms into her back pack slings before tapping her necklace. “Da, we found the symbol. I’m sending the location.”

Kpleeb replied over the communication device. “Take the warriors and check it out. I’ll come to you soon.”

###

Archon Nikert took a full forty-nine breaths to analyze the cor and hear the acolyte speak with its hidden voice. The acolyte nearly succeeded in concealing its thoughts, but Nikert could sense the faint, quivering whiff of its telepathic emissions, and the tuning of it exuded distress. The Archon’s lower slits twitched in pleasure knowing that the acolyte before it suffered. Nikert waited longer now, asserting dominance, increasing pain, before finally looking up from the scroll. “Acolyte? Present.”

Acolyte Sen-Afuek presented its fingers in the modified taw that was befitting its station and then straightened slowly, its cor whispering a terrified lament.

Nikert felt the delicious shiver of the acolyte’s pain vibrate in the air. An acolyte would remain bent for any amount of time required of course, but Archon Nikert’s previous experiment had been far too expensive, the senior acolyte too great a loss.

The acolyte still presented its taw, all three fingers on each hand pressed tip-to-tip in a delightful and fitting homage to the communion of the Xih’s glorious past. Its rough brown robes were snug, with a low collar that did not hide its gently fluttering neck slits.

The Archon lifted its chin ever so slightly. “Begin.”

“Greatest Archon, Nidix has missed the assigned check in.” The acolyte’s face was perfectly void of emotion, a stone wall of indifference. “A vessel has been dispatched to obtain a first hand report, which is expected within the next twenty days.”

The last time the slaves failed to check in was after the disruption of the aji. The prior was the rebellion of Ixant nine. Without facts the seven cannot convene. Nikert glanced down at the scroll on the wooden surface, yet did not read the ancient text. “Depart from me until the required report is complete.”

The gossamer veil closed silently behind the acolyte, and the Archon’s neck slits palpitated twice in a dramatic sigh. It placed its fingers gently on the scroll and twisted it closed, the delicate, metal shell settling in place with a quiet snik.

###

Zara stood staring intently at the wall. “Here it is,” she stated under her breath. The symbol was cut into the stone and collected shadow. She placed her fingertips on the carved pattern and traced the lines with deliberate pressure. The carving was perfect—no irregularities, no tool marks visible to the naked eye. Surrounding the symbol were others that appeared to be from the same family. “Can you translate this, Viinox?” she asked.

Viinox tilted its chin downward. “Not yet. Until now, I have assumed that this was a marker, not a word. Architectural markers usually indicate access points,” Its voice carried no emphasis, as though it were reading from a manual. “Or containment boundaries. The grand administrative center was initially designed to house sensitive materials. If this symbol appears in both locations, it suggests a connection between Nidix’s operations and whatever the Xi or the Xih considered worth protecting here.”

Zara opened her senses into the aji realm and saw the web of faint luminescence that traced the architecture in lines of soft blue-white light. Active energy signatures and patterns flickered through the entire batch of symbols, and the primary symbol blazed with the culmination of their aji. It appeared as no mixing of aji that she had ever seen. Beneath the symbol—or within it—something else took shape. A door, maybe. Not merely a physical aperture in the stone, but a discontinuity in the aji field, a threshold marked by the same symbol rendered in light rather than carved lines. It hovered at the surface, waiting. “It’s not just a marker,” she said. “It’s something else, maybe a button or a lock., and you wouldn’t see it without enhanced perception.”

“A perceptual lock. Rare, even for imperial security,” Viinox stated “Active locks aren’t carved into walls without reason. What we’re looking for has ancient value and is well-hidden. Value demands protection.” It connected with Kanta who was located at the Xi library terminal. “Kanta, I am sending you an image. Please translate this as soon as possible.”

“I will,” replied Kanta. “The Builder is on his way to your location.”

Zara slowly made a circuit of the short hallway and alcove. The walls were covered in beautiful patterns and murals unlike any she had seen except for here in this expansive structure. Scroll work, filigree, and silvery abstract symbols surrounded by greenery and majestic landscapes covered almost every surface. There was, of course, the majestic figure that was a common feature in each of the alcoves. A Xi, tall and proud was dressed in ornate silver armor with a small, tricorn helmet on its head that glinted with a red light. On the armor’s chest was etched a heptagon with each of its seven sides emitting a single line that faded a short distance from the starting point.

“I found a very old key document written around the time the grand Yefrtil administrative center was built.” Kanta paused and then read the translation. “I am not forged in fire, yet I hold an edge. I am not alive, yet I answer the hand that knows me. Walls are built to keep me out, and still I slip through. Speak my name, and I remember my maker.”

Zara repeated the riddle and then again. It was specific and every word carried weight. It wanted not just any word, but the right one—a name that matched the description with the exactness that imperial systems demanded. Not forged in fire, yet holds an edge. Not alive, yet answers the hand. Empires build walls, but it slips through. Knowledge, then. Or a tool. she thought. Something that cut without being a blade. She tested the first obvious answer immediately. “Aji.”

Nothing happened. The symbol’s aji aspect pulsing at its steady, indifferent rhythm.

Zara shrugged. “Xih. Kerflk. Yefrtil. Nidix.” She turned to Viinox. “Any suggestions?”

“Kerflk would be my first guess, but if that’s not it, perhaps we should look in the library.”

Kanta’s voice bubbled through the communicator. “I’ll start compiling a list of possible matches.”

Just then, Kpleeb arrived. “Greetings, my dear,” he said with a smile. “Have you found the symbol?”

Zara squeezed her da’s arm excitedly. “There is a lock or something.” She read the riddle again. “What do you think it means?”

Kpleeb grinned widely as he stood back and looked at the wall. “You know I’m not great with these weird Xi languages and word games.” He paused for a minute and twisted his face. “Try every word you can think of. Can we bring in a device that will speak Xi words directly from the library?”

Zara frowned. “That’s actually brilliant, da. Maybe we can.” She tapped her necklace. “Kanta, can you ask the library interface to speak entire records one word at a time?”

“Starting from which record?” replied Kanta’s voice.

“Anything really, but perhaps the most useful will be older records.” Zara nodded at Viinox. “We can just leave the receiver here, right? The words can trigger the lock.”

Viinox lifted its chin a notch. “Unless we are here, how will we know if the lock is opened?”

“I plan on staying here with the Ganix warriors..” She turned to Kpleeb. “Da, you can stay as well, right?”

Kpleeb shrugged noncommittally. “I suppose. We’ll need to get sleeping mats and some food and water. It could be days!”

Viinox spoke up. “This, I can arrange, and I will go to the library and conduct additional searches. I have a feeling this word is very old.” It turned to leave. “Expect your supplies to be delivered soon.”

Zara waved. “Thank you, Viinox.” She turned to her da. “We’ll find the word, da. I’m sure of it.”

Closing the account (Caveman Chronicles)

The Index -|-

Kpleeb’s shoulders shuddered as he sobbed, his head and eyes cast down. Beneath him, his bare feet were sunk into a thick mud all the way to his ankles. The mud generated by his endless tears. He didn’t care. Heart straining with substantial pain that wracked his shoulders as he wept, and snot streamed between his knees.

A hand touched his shoulder gentle yet firm. He saw feet, smooth and hairless.

“What’s wrong, Kpleeb?” A hand smoothed back his shaggy mane.

He looked up at Thoka’s beautiful face, full of youth and vitality, eyes bright and intelligent. Her pearly white hair was perfectly kept as always. Kpleeb sobbed again and closed his eyes tightly.

“I’ve failed you.”

“How so?”

“They’re all still alive!” he wailed, tears adding to the mess surrounding his feet.

“The Predominant are dead, Kpleeb. You did it.” A gentle hand stroked his hair. “You made them pay for their actions.”

“I came to avenge you. At Zara’s request I held my wrath for the leaders, and… they weren’t even in charge!” Kpleeb slammed his fist into the dirt at his side. “The Xih pull those strings, they travel to orbs and collect innocent beings and take them and experiment on them and kill them. These Xih do all the evil things, or do they? Could it be another puppeteer? Another shadowy group of evil Xi? How many more do I have to destroy?”

Thoka was silent.

“I would kill every last Xi for you, my love.”

“I know you would, but… would it satisfy you?”

He ignored the question. “I need you Thoka. They’ve ruined our lives. They stole you from us!”

“What is past must remain in the past. Do not carry this evil forward with you. Do not let it infect your future, Kpleeb. You must let go.”

A memory appeared before him, filling his senses. Thoka laying on her back in the cave on Phaedro, what skin was visible was mottled purple and blue. Her heart was stopped. Her mouth a gaping terror, frozen in pain and dripping blood.

“Thoka!” he screamed hoarsely, his lungs burning.

Her head turned, blue eyes gentle and pleading. “It is only you that suffer now. Let me go, my love.”

“I can’t!” Kpleeb bent lower to wrap his arms around her, but she was gone.

###

With a start he opened his eyes and saw a dimly lit room and a red-tiered console. Sitting up abruptly, he wiped tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. He was on the Greki.

Kpleeb reclined back into his sling silently. The ceiling above him displayed a vibrant and crisp image of Nidix that floated like a jewel in the complete darkness of the void. The vision before him was so perfect that his stomach twisted at the apparent height. He looked left at the doorway to let his mind in on the nature of reality and breathed carefully for a moment. Nidix grew smaller as the increasing thrust from Greki’s engines continued to accelerate the vessel toward the great barrier. He sighed and pondered all that they had learned.

I can’t bring Thoka back. There is no return to what we had before, and yet- I still have Zara. She wants me to think about the future with her. If we live through this, will I sit around? What does an old caveman do?

Kpleeb remembered the canyon river tribe. The Fab Elder Shoofit was the oldest caveman he had ever known.

What did Shoofit do? He always talked about his children and their children. Even above his position in the tribe, his source of pride was being the Elder to his bloodlings. Maybe Zara will have children one day.

He saw it clearly: Zara surrounded by children, a whole brood of them, each one sharper than the last. The image made him smile.

That wouldn’t be so bad. I could teach them to build. We could go somewhere quiet and live peaceful lives.

His console blinked at him, indicating Zara’s request to speak. Kpleeb sighed and tapped one of the protrusions.

“Hi, Da. I just wanted to make sure you are alright.” Zara paused, emotion crossing her young face. “I just woke up and realized what we went through was intense in so many ways.”

Kpleeb grunted and waved his hand. “Oh, I’m fine, Zara. I’m glad the Predominant are dead, happy to be alive.”

“Don’t wave it off, Da. We’ve been driving hard to find the Predominant. I know you have needed revenge for what the Xi did to Mama and me. You have done everything since your capture to arrive at this moment, and now that it’s done, you have to find another purpose.”

“The fight isn’t over, Zara!”

“My fight is not over, but yours is. You can’t bring mama back.”

“I won’t let you confront the Xih without my help. This isn’t negotiable.” Kpleeb shook his head emphatically.

“I welcome the help, Da. I need your help, along with that of Viinox, Kanta, and whoever else. But you helping me against the Xih doesn’t make this your fight. You said you’d take revenge on the Predominant, and you have. Please let your future battles be without Mama in mind.”

“Are you really going to tell me that I can’t take more revenge if I want to?” Kpleeb huffed and threw up his hands.

“How many Xi can replace Mama? Is it a hundred? A million? A hundred-billion?” Zara’s face was twisted in a pained look that bothered Kpleeb. “I’m not saying what we’ve done so far wasn’t worth it, but we both need a life after this. I cannot lose you as well.”

Kpleeb sighed and nodded. “I know-I know. It’s just… difficult. Nothing can replace your Mama.”

“Then the payment is settled. Untold millions of Xi killed on our journey here, plus the Predominant. Agreed?”

“And the Xih.”

“No, Da. Your revenge has to be closed off right now or I’m afraid it will consume you.”

Kpleeb shoot his head slowly. “Maybe. That’s all I can give you right now.”

Zara smiled gently. “Maybe is fine for now. When this is over, the Xi will be leaderless and we will be in the position to ensure that this does not happen again. We can be the influence, Da.”

“It sounds like you have big plans.”

“I have dreams mainly, but some plans too. I just don’t want to have gone through this pain and suffering-the loss of Mama along with the kidnapping and everythig else-and not enjoy the fruits of our effort. We deserve a life! You were stolen from your life, and mine never really belonged to me.” Zara brushed a curly, brown lock out of her eyesight. “If we aren’t planning to live past this battle, we might as well quit now. Which reminds me. I was thinking that the kerflk was created by the Xih-“

“-and they might be immune to it?”

“Maybe. Or they might be able to manipulate it in ways we don’t understand. I do know that the Mangas and his crew could not wield aji. I am hoping that it is the same for rest of them.”

Kpleeb nodded slowly. “I certainly hope so. We will need to be careful with the Xih if we can find them.” He sighed dramatically. “I know that I can live after this, Zara. I want to live, but I need to think about where and how and… what I can do. I haven’t thought about anything but revenge in a long time.”

“Da, you build amazing things, and I know you can build even more that are not weapons. Your name can be more than the Builder that takes down the Predominant, you can be the start of a new era for the Xi, the Hkkli, and everyone else.”

Kpleeb shrugged uncomfortably and yawned. “Maybe. I’ll think about it.” He waved. “I’m going to eat now.”

“I love you, da. Thanks for considering this. Bye”

Kpleeb clambered to his feet and then scratched his side with his hairy knuckle. [Zara is so kind hearted. I wonder if she is going to be able to eliminate the Xih? Does she really have it in her?]

“Roasted muskrat leg,” he muttered at the food dispenser. Putting his palm on the wall, he stretched while his meal formed. What would the Xi empire be like without the Xih and the Predominant?

The Dust of Gods (Caveman Chronicles)

The Index -|-

They found a quiet corner near the chamber’s eastern wall, where the devastation was thinner and the marble retained some of its original polish. Zara leaned against the cold stone and let her weight settle. Her right shoulder had stiffened to the point where raising her arm sent white-hot pain lancing across her collarbone. She missed Qon and ached with a constant, dull throb that nothing seemed to touch.

Kpleeb stood beside her, one hand braced against the wall, his makeshift cane propped between them. The lines around his eyes had deepened, carved by pain and whatever damage the Qon threads had done to his chest. He looked older than he had that morning.

“Da,” Zara said. Her voice came out thinner than she’d intended. “Qon left me. It just pulled away when they called, and it went to them like it was going home.”

Kpleeb leaned his weight against the wall beside her, the broken spear shaft propped between them. His breathing was rough and ragged. “It acted like an entity, not a mindless energy. Entities have their own allegiances.”

“But it was with me for years.” She flexed her right hand, and the motion sent a jolt of pain through her stiff shoulder. “I could feel it thinking, sometimes. Not in words, but… it had a mind of its own. It wasn’t just a tool.”

“Tools have preferences if you know how to listen.” Kpleeb shifted, wincing, and adjusted his grip on the makeshift cane. “My favorite hammer back on Phaedro always balanced better in my left hand. Never figured out why. The wood was cut the same as the others.”

Zara almost smiled. “This isn’t a hammer, Da.”

“I know.” He was quiet for a moment, his gaze looking across the chamber to where Kanta and Viinox worked over the chalk map. The light from the dome caught the care-lines on his face. “But if you believe you can control it, you should try to call it back. We’re going to need every asset we have against whatever comes next. The Predominant may have been just… caretakers, maybe. Or puppets. If it’s the Xih really running the Xi empire, well—” his shoulders shrugged slightly as his brow furrowed. “They probably have resources we can’t even imagine.”

The suggestion landed in Zara’s chest and sat there, heavy and complicated. Part of her wanted Qon back with a desperation that bordered on hunger. She felt awkward without it. The confidence it had given her, the sense of being more… all of it was gone. She felt like a limb had been amputated. But another part, colder and more rational, remembered the way Qon had fought to leave when the Predominant called it.

“What if it doesn’t want to come back?” she said quietly.

“Then you make it want to.” Kpleeb’s voice had that particular flatness it took when he was stating something he believed was obvious. “You’re the Ixant, not it. You’re the one with the hands and the brain. Qon is just energy with opinions.”

“Is it, though?” Zara pushed herself straighter against the wall, ignoring the protest from her shoulder. “Where did it come from, Da? The Predominant called me their creation. Did they make Qon too? Is that why it went to them when they called?”

Kpleeb was silent. His jaw muscle tensed, and she could see him turning the question over, looking for angles. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “But if they made it, they made it to serve. And right now, it’s not serving anyone. The bulk of it is hiding like a scared animal. That’s an opportunity.”

“For them or for us?”

“For whichever of us is brave enough to reach for it first.”

Zara looked down at her hands. Her right knuckles were swollen where she’d punched Na, the skin split and dark with dried blood. She remembered how Qon had felt, its silky touch and the electric joy of use it. She hadn’t really thought to question what it was or where it came from. It was just there, a close companion when she needed one, power when she had none.

But friends didn’t abandon you when stronger voices called. Tools didn’t choose new masters.

“What if it was loyal to them all along?” The question came out quieter than she’d meant it to. “What if everything it did for me was just… training? Preparation? The Predominant said I was a success. What if Qon was the leash, and I just didn’t feel it tightening?”

Kpleeb’s hand found her uninjured shoulder and squeezed. His palm was warm through the fabric of her sleeve, callused and solid. “Then you take the leash and you put it around their neck instead.” His voice had lost its edge, replaced by something quieter that she recognized as the tone he used when he was being careful with her. When the subject mattered too much for bluster. “You’re my daughter, Zara. You’re stubborn and smart, and you don’t quit. Whatever Qon is, whatever it wants, you’re stronger than it is. I’ve watched you be stronger than it for as long as you’ve been alive.”

She wanted to believe him.

“Try,” he said. “Not for me. For both of us. We need our best strength if we expect to conquer the Xih.”

She closed her eyes. The marble was cold against her back, the chamber silent around them except for the soft murmur of Kanta’s voice as she worked and the occasional click of Viinox adjusting its hologram.

After a long moment of contemplation, she opened her eyes and met her Da’s gaze. His face was lined with pain and something harder beneath it, a resolve that had carried him across the galaxy for blood. She saw her own reflection in his eyes. Smaller, more sensitive, and afraid. She didn’t like what she saw.

“I’ll try,” she said. “Let’s help Kanta first.” She clambered to her feet.

Kanta produced a dozen, large vials from her satchel, each one as long as Zara’s hand, sealed with stoppers of some pale material that caught the light like bone.

Viinox took three and moved toward the largest concentration of riiat. The plume that had billowed from Ka’s dissolution, now settled in a fine, gray-white layer across the marble near the center of the chamber. Its three-fingered hand moved with delicate precision, treating the riiat as it was: the remnants of the Xi soul. It scooped the powder with the edge of a vial, careful not to spill. The dust was lighter than it looked. It caught on the slightest air current, swirling in faint eddies around Viinox’s wrist before settling into the glass.

Zara took a vial and knelt beside what remained of Ja. The riiat here was fine and powdery with a faint bluish cast that the others didn’t have. She dipped the mouth of the vial into the dust and watched it fill. The powder felt strange against her skin as she scooped and brushed it toward the vial. It was not quite like sand, not quite like ash, something between the two. It was dead, in the most literal sense. The remains of something that had thought itself a god reduced to sediment she could carry in a bottle.

She sealed the second vial and held it up to the light. The dust inside caught the pastel glow from the dome and held it, each particle a tiny, dull mirror. Three Predominant. Six vials of dust. She slipped hers into the pocket of her vest and felt the weight of it there, cold against her ribs.

Kpleeb had gathered Na’s remains himself. He worked methodically, his injured knee braced against the marble, one hand steadying himself while the other swept dust into the vial with brisk efficiency. When he was done, he held a sealed vial and examined it with an expression Zara couldn’t quite read. Something between satisfaction and a quieter emotion she thought might have been disappointment.

“It’s not enough,” he said quietly. “For everything they took.”

“No,” Zara agreed. Nothing would be. “But you got the Predominant. You avenged Mama.”

Kpleeb grunted noncommittally. “It doesn’t feel like I expected. Are you going to ask Qon to come back or what?”

Zara nodded.

They finished their work and stood in a loose circle near the center of the chamber, where the three thrones sat empty on their dais. The marble here was veined with threads of gold and purple that caught the light and seemed to pulse faintly, as if the stone itself remembered what had happened here. The air felt charged. Not with threat, exactly, but with potential.

Zara stepped deliberately into the center of the circle. Her boots left prints in the thin layer of riiat that still coated the marble. Her right shoulder throbbed in a hot, insistent rhythm. The emptiness in her ached.

She closed her eyes and reached.

Not with her hand, really. With something deeper. The part of her that had always known how to find Qon and the other aji. That instinctive sense of a power waiting just beyond the edge of perception, warm and silky and alive. She reached into the hollow space outside of her and pushed against its edges, and for a long moment, nothing happened. She opened her senses in a way she had not done since she was kidnapped on the Hsstak and Mangas had falsified every sense.

Then she felt it, a flicker, distant and faint, like a star winking once behind thick cloud. Something stirring in the distance beneath her feet. Not answering, not yet. Listening.

Her jaw tightened. Her shoulders stiffened, the injured one protesting as she squared them. She could feel the conflicting currents moving through her, dread, cold and sharp, remembering how Qon had fought to leave her; and beneath it, a harder resolve that felt like her father’s hand on her shoulder. She was not going to beg. She was not going to negotiate. Whatever Qon was, whatever it wanted, she was the Ixant.

She placed her right hand on her chest and called silently.

The response was not immediate. For several heartbeats, nothing changed. The chamber remained silent, the light shifting across marble floor, Kanta and Viinox watching from the periphery with still, attentive postures. Then Zara felt a tremor through the stone beneath her boots, subtle as a sigh.

A thread seeped from the floor below here. Not a flood, not the brilliant surge she was used to, but something slower and more cautious. Thin tendrils of golden light crept across the marble like searching fingers. They were invisible to anyone who couldn’t see aji, she knew. To Kpleeb, to Kanta, to Viinox, there would be nothing to see but Zara standing in an empty circle, her expression fixed in concentration. But to her, the chamber began to flood with gold.

The tendrils found her boot first. They coiled around her ankle, hesitant and testing. She felt the contact like a question. She didn’t answer it with words. She answered it by opening herself. It was not surrender the way she had when she was young, but deliberate and controlled, a door opened on her terms.

The tendrils rushed up her leg. They wrapped her thigh, her hip, her torso, coiling around her ribs, and the feeling was so familiar it made her breath catch. Familiarity flooding back into her core. The smooth brush of something alive against her skin, beneath it, through it. Qon wound around her forearm, and the contact sent a shock through her that made her teeth clench.

It was different. The Qon that returned to her was not the same that had left. There was a wariness to it now, a hesitation she hadn’t felt before. It pulsed against her glove in irregular rhythms, testing her grip, probing for weakness the way it never had. She felt its confusion or what she interpreted as confusion, that wordless, emotional sense she’d sometimes had of Qon’s state. It had been called away by masters it recognized, and then those masters had died, and now it was being called back by a hand it knew but didn’t entirely trust.

Zara closed her fingers around the thickest coil. The golden thread flared, and she felt Qon resist. It was not fighting, but a push, firm and questioning. She pushed back. Harder. Her jaw set into a line so tight the muscles in her temples ached.

“I am not a servant,” she said aloud, though the words were really for Qon. “And neither are you.”

The resistance held for one long, suspended moment. Then it broke. Not in surrender, but in something closer to recognition. The golden tendrils tightened around her arm not as bindings but as an embrace. Familiar and strange all at once. Qon was home, but home had changed, and they were both learning the new shape of it.

She turned to face the others. Her Dad was watching with a concerned look mixed with something she couldn’t name. Kanta’s large eyes were wide behind her helmet, water sloshing gently as she tilted her head. Viinox stood very still, its neck slits fluttering in that rapid pattern that meant something complicated was happening behind those blue eyes.

“Qon is back,” Zara said.

Kpleeb nodded once, sharp and satisfied. “Good. Now let’s find out what the Xih built at Yefrtil.”