Asunder: A Gathering of Chaos by Cameron Hopkin (electronic book reader .txt) 📗

unwise young men go out there… and die. It’s always the ones with more bravado than brains; the ones who have some disease and are dying anyway, or perhaps they’ve lost their love, or some other tragedy of youth. Off they go, and no one ever hears of them again. Except that every great now and then, one finds it – some hidden well of Chaos energy out in the wilds. They never speak of what it is or where they found it, but they come back powerful. Ridiculously so.”

“I am not inclined to believe in fantastical powers,” Gamarron said.

“I respect that, sir, but I’ve seen it, and so have many, many others. When a chaos wielder is about, things happen that shouldn’t happen, that can’t happen. These fools hold the power of creation, and it is terrifying. It makes them mad, volatile, and paranoid.” The unseen man’s description matched what Renna had heard quite well. The Governor of Far East was known to keep a coterie of chaos wielders, though no one knew who or where they were.

Renna stretched her neck and flexed her toes. Goddess, I’m too old for this. I’m going to fall into the street and die. As she turned her head, she saw a couple coming up the walkway. They were clinging to each other, and the man was singing. Drunk, obviously. She went cold. What if they saw her?

“Forgive me,” murmured the savage from inside the room, “But that strains credulity at best.”

Gamarron’s unseen companion cleared his throat. “We have had a profitable relationship so far, good sir; do not ruin it by calling me a liar. I saw a beggar come at this chaos wielder of yours out on the street not too long ago. The old vagrant either was very ill or else he had touched the clouds, as my people like to say. He tried to stab the young man with a broken paving stone. One second he was right there in the boy’s face, screaming and swearing while the boy’s guards wrestled with him, and then he was gone. Simply – gone. The guards looked like they wanted to fall down and pray. I pity the man that has to guard a chaos wielder. Ten seconds later the old beggar fell out of the sky fifty meters out into the bay. When he hit the water, his body burst into pieces. I saw it happen. I swear it by the clear blue sky.”

Renna paid scant attention to the story. She’d heard similar tales before, and the drunken couple was getting closer. The light from the window below was illuminating her bony backside, she just knew it. If only I didn’t stick out so far from the house; I’d be much harder to see. Her numb fingers began to slip, and she burrowed the handhold a little deeper. Suddenly the tips of her fingers poked all the way through the wood siding and into empty space. She pulled her hand out and risked falling to lean over and peek into the crevice she’d made. She saw darkness and smelled a musty staleness. An attic crawlspace – perfect. She reached back into the hole and pushed the hard edge of her hand against the wood, willing the dead tree to give way. The boards opened beneath her hands, and a dark hole appeared in the side of the house.

“I know the folk of Sky City do not give their word loosely,” said Gamarron after a long pause. “Forgive my doubt. I am one that believes that all things can be explained once they are understood. Perhaps this power of which you speak is why the man seemed so… unique to me.”

Moving as quickly as she dared, Renna widened her opening into the townhome’s attic and pulled herself into the safe darkness. Corn husks and straw served as insulation for the house, and she moved quietly, not wanting Gamarron and his friend to think some sea rat or possum had invaded the crawlspace over their heads. The pair on the street staggered past, but Renna didn’t bother closing the hole behind her. The hole would be nearly invisible in the dark, and whoever owned this place could very well fix the damage themselves. If she’d had the time and the talent, she could have pressed her way through the wood without having to cut it. An Oakie could have slid through the wood like a diver into water.

She sifted quietly through the corn husks in front of her and convinced the wood beneath her to open a knothole big enough to peek through. Her aching hands were grateful for her new hiding spot. She returned her attention to the conversation below; Gamarron’s host was speaking. How does a Sky City man end up running a criminal enterprise in Megalith? Not many of those proud fools on the Mainland. “In all honesty, I must advise you against approaching this young man, regardless of your needs. Chaos wielders are unsafe. Even being around them when they use their power can alter a person in unpleasant ways.”

“Any great power carries risk,” responded Gamarron. “I will not let that deter me.”

“Only because you lack the necessary knowledge, good sir. Those who wield the Chaos are not careful. They drink too much and live dangerously as a rule. They know they are not long for this life. So when they reach into the Chaos to bring forth their will into the world, there is always a chance that the Chaos they manifest is not the one they intend. Sooner or later, each of them – every last one that has ever been known – reaches too far. Then they are ripped to shreds by their power, along with anyone and anything in the vicinity.”

“Torn apart? How so?” Gamarron was always so neutral of tone that it was hard for Renna to read his intent. She couldn’t have said whether he was interested or doubtful.

“You know of the spore