Within the security of a rented hideout in Rustwells upper decks they studied the data-slate. The coordinates did not point to a place. Instead they represented a series of spatial frequencies directions, for a navigational ritual.
"It's a coordinate " Morgan remarked, furrowing his brow at the moving symbols. "You don't travel on foot to this location. You… defocus, in its direction. So we require a guide of traversing non-Euclidean space.. Before you inquire no I am not acquainted with anyone."
Sierra, who had been reviewing the Rustwells notices on another gadget glanced up. "I might." She swiveled the screen around. It displayed a rough hand-sketched flyer advertising "Passage, to Un-Spaces" and marked with a sweeping 'L.W.'
"Lorelei Wilde?" Cassiathon asked, unbelieving.
"Her melody has faded, but her understanding of geography remains " Sierra concluded. ". She's likely desperate. Valentina deserted her the moment she ceased to be useful. She could barter passage, for safety… or vengeance."
It was a plan. Yet it was the option available, to them.
Lorelei was discovered in a condemned hab-pod, the atmosphere, with the odor of rot and cheap fragrance. The magnificent siren appeared as a ghost. Her beauty remained,. It seemed fragile her eyes empty. The deep quiet surrounding her was tangible; she navigated the world shrouded in a veil crafted by Cassiathon.
She gazed at him not with loathing. With a tired painful acknowledgment. "You " she croaked, her voice a broken instrument. "You stole my song."
"I offered you silence " Cassiathon responded, maintaining his space. "An alternate present."
A sharp grin flickered on her lips. "A philosopher. How delightful." She glanced at the data-slate Morgan held. "The Silent Monastery. You're, after the Mad Weaver. You'll either perish there. Lose your mind with her."
"We'll risk it " Sierra replied. "Are you able to bring us to the fold?"
Loreleis eyes wandered. "The routes connecting this place to that one… they consist of recollection and vibration. I am no longer able to call them forth with a song.. I still recall the melody." She fixed Cassiathon with a glance, a glint of shrewdness, in her depths. "You hold a piece of the quiet that shackles me. You might… shatter that quiet like a chime. Employ it as a tuning fork to uncover the discord that guides to the fold. My brain can supply the chart if your strength can supply the lock.
Their alliance was founded on shared harm. Cassiathon's making had shattered her; now they would employ that fracture as a weapon.
"I require a focus " he stated. "An item of yours imbued with your essence."
Lorelei, instinctively took one scale from her wrist. She gave it to him. It felt chilly. Vibrated with a quiet yearning energy.
Grasping the scale Cassiathon shut his eyes. He searched for the " note" he had composed—the idea of stopping now intertwined with Loreleis essence. He did not invoke it. He attuned himself to it.
A faint perceptible vibration filled the air originating from him and the scale. It was a noise, a force that caused the teeth to throb. Lorelei winced yet concentrated her gaze perceiving things beyond sight.
"There…" she murmured, directing a quivering finger not toward the wall. At a rift, in the air where the trembling formed a stationary wave of distortion. "Attack now! With purpose! The Monastery is a site of possibility. Imagine… a ball of yarn you want to decipher!"
Cassiathon concentrated his intent. Directed the quiet vibration into the gap.
The world did not break apart. It unraveled.
A passage of twisting iridescent fog appeared at the heart of the hab-pod stretching into a distance that was painful to behold.
"The path remains stable while your attention remains steady " Lorelei said, collapsing onto her cot drained. "Leave now.. If you encounter the Weaver… let her know the music beyond has fallen eerily silent."
Without another word, Cassiathon, Morgan, and Sierra stepped into the shimmering, unstable tunnel, leaving the Rustwell and all solid reality behind.