Empha's Children

Prologue

Rodney hopped over the tiny crates that lined the alley on the way to the Sisterhood Church. He scurried through a maze of discarded drapery, under the tilted and rusting signs of stores long-closed, and into Citadel Square. They couldn’t have followed him, not through all that; not even Empha.

There were some things — fundamental things — that simply could not happen. The sky could not come tumbling down, the fish in the sea could not swim through the air, and the spirits could not lie. But they did. Rodney knew that they did. And the Sisterhood must be made to know as well, or everything his ancestors built would crumble.

“And?” A familiar voice pricked his ear. “What are you doing away from your post?”

“Gabriel.” Rodney stopped and turned as the people in the square moved around him. “I, I wanted to, to speak to you. About my assignment.”

The man pushed himself up from the wall where he leaned. He smiled. “Of course. What do you need?”

“I’m worried that I, perhaps, am not entirely suited to this line of work.”

“Spying, you mean?” Gabriel patted him on the shoulder, guiding him away from the crowds and under the awning of Abraham’s Fine Wine. “It’s a noble profession. One of the oldest.”

“I don’t doubt that it has uses, sir. But I signed up to help gather supplies... farming, if you understand. I’m... I’m weak willed.” Perhaps Gabriel was only there to put him back in line? Maybe the young man hadn’t guessed where Rodney was heading? He’d have to go back for a few weeks before sending word to the Sisterhood, but at least he would live.

“I see. Well.” Gabriel tapped his thumb on the buckle of his belt, “Why don’t we take the edge off a bit, then. Wine on me, then you’ll finish your assignment. Maybe we’ll talk more afterwards.”

The door squeaked on its hinges, and the bustling of the crowds dimmed as it closed behind them. Abraham was standing behind the counter wearing an apron and wringing a towel in his hands. He looked up and nodded. The windows were thick, bubbled, old-styled glass, from before the outsider technology trickled in, and the shop was covered in a thin film of dust and decay.

“Don’t worry, Abe’s a friend.” Gabriel pulled a seat from behind a small table, hidden under cobwebs and boxes. “We can talk here, and Empha pays the drink bill.”

Rodney joined him and watched as Abraham knelt behind his counter and produced two surprisingly clean wine glasses. He blew the dust from a bottle labeled with outworld text and pulled the cork free.

“Forgive me, Rodney, but I’m having a hard time understanding why you think you can’t do your job.” Gabriel took his glass with a nod. “You snuck from your post, through the Nexus, and into the Citadel before anyone even considered that you may have deserted. And this, from a company of spies. Frankly, I’m impressed.”

Rodney looked at the liquid swirling in his hand and nodded. Praise from Gabriel was uncommon at best, and unsettling at any time.

“And you would have managed to move further had you not stopped to speak to your daughter. Empha had no idea until perhaps twenty minutes ago.” He sipped. “That’s why I don’t have children. Attachments just make things very difficult.”

That’s also why he didn’t have brothers, sisters, or parents. At least that’s what the older members whispered: the people close to Gabriel had a tendency to disappear.

“Not going to drink?”

Rodney looked at the glass in his hands and then up at Gabriel. He shook his head.

“Your choice.” The man reached across the table and gulped the wine down. “Come along downstairs, there’s something I want to show you.”

“Yes, sir.” Rodney said.

Abraham frowned as they walked past the counter, into the back room, and down a flight of stairs into the cellar. The air was rank with the stench of mold and vermin. But when Gabriel lit the sconces at the base of the stairs, it was clear that the smell came from more than just rats.

“Who,” Rodney pointed into the shadows, at the man on the floor. “Who is that?”

“Oh, that’s Abraham. Original Abraham. Unlike our friend upstairs, he was sort of a talker. We don’t like talkers, Rodney.”

“What—”

A boot landed in the small of Rodney’s back and he felt himself tumbling down onto the dirt and mud of the cellar floor. The rats screeched and scurried into their hiding holes, and he groaned as he struggled to move away from the body of original Abraham.

“You got closer than anyone before you.” Gabriel said with an approving smile. “But no one will get this close again.” And he turned on his heels and closed the cellar door.

“I, I’m alive...” Rodney said. Gabriel had left him to die, yes, but he hadn’t killed him outright. There was still hope. If he waited till dark and overpowered new Abraham, he may have a chance. He may still be able to warn the Sisterhood.

The air shimmered in the waving light of the sconces. Blue wisps swam in front of his eyes and vanished, only to reappear the next moment. The air around him grew heavy, and he fought to control himself. With each breath what he swallowed grew thicker, filling his lungs but never allowing him to breath. His eyes dimmed as Empha enveloped him.