“I’ll tell you what I think, sister,” Sree continued after a few moments.
“Please do.” Rin smiled, glad to have been spared trying to explain the inexplicable and defend the indefensible.
“Either our magic was left behind by a passing deity or it was a unique eruption of the otherwise inaccessible magics which secretly drive our world. In either case, we must ask the same thing.”
To Rin’s ear, both explanations sounded farfetched. She preferred to think that she alone in the history of the world was special, though she knew how foolish such a conceit was.
“Maybe the gift was offered to others,” Rin proposed. “But they waited too long to use it and perished. Or maybe they didn’t know what it was or thought the knowledge perverse or crazy. Maybe I was the first to accomplish what the gods wished. Luck could explain why I was special. Perhaps my circumstances and aptitude happened to allow proper application of the knowledge. For all we know, the gods tried many times before finding somebody who made it work.”
“And then they ordered you to undo it, to condemn those you elevated?”
Rin leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “Things may not have turned out as they hoped. It could have been an experiment or a proof of concept. Or maybe they just changed their minds. Who knows how the gods think?”
Sree thought for a few moments.
“What was it like when they spoke to you? It was twice, right? What are the gods like?” she asked distractedly, as if weighing something.
Rin would have angrily dismissed such a question under ordinary circumstances, but did not feel it contentious or insolent coming from Sree. With a sigh, she explained. “They did not actually speak to me. I never met them, sister, and cannot tell you what they are like.”
“A dream then?”
“No, it is hard to explain. The tales of such happenings are just tales, the inventions of the ignorant. The gods did not appear to me or speak in a dream or send an angel. It was much more subtle than that. Have you ever had a sudden idea? It was as if I knew particular things with great certainty. The idea didn’t materialize all at once, but I could recognize its outline. The details dwelled right below the surface of my mind. I could sense their presence but not force them to take form.”
“However, once acknowledged, they slowly coalesced of their own accord. As long as I kept the idea in the forefront of my being, made it my purpose, it did not fail to reveal itself over time. I felt as if I was discovering something. Maybe that’s how a mathematician or artist feels. If so, I envy them. I only got to experience it twice. The idea was part of me and came from me, but there was no plausible way it could have.”
Sree nodded and smiled. “I believe I understand what you are saying, even if I never have experienced it. The knowledge emerged as needed. Was it the same when you learned how to rebind bigger spheres and upgrade your own?”
Rin nodded. “How do you know about that?”
Sree quietly appraised her sister. “You told me.”
“I said nothing of the sort.”
“Not in so many words. You’re destroying us, so you have some means to do so. I find it easier to accept one type of magic than two. Even if you half-heartedly argued the point, you seem to be of the same mind.”
Rin grimaced. She had severely underestimated her sister. She would have to watch what she said more carefully. But such caution immediately struck her as pointless. What damage could Sree do that she had not already done?
“A hammer can remove the nails it put in place.”
“Indeed, but if that was the case you simply would remove our protections and kill us. By all accounts, that is not what happens. You can be cruel, but even you would prefer a simple killing to something eternal.”
Rin wondered what precisely those accounts were and from whom, but she decided against asking. It was more important to ascertain just how much Sree had deduced.
“A killing is eternal,” she noted dryly. “Is that all?”
“You only became active in the last few centuries. That means you either were immured until then or something changed. If it had been me, my top priority after escaping would be to avoid capture.”
“You’re not me.”
“Indeed, sister. That is why we love one another.”
Rin was unsure how to take this but decided to let it slide. She got the impression she had made Sree nervous and that her sister now felt the need to dispel suspicion. Was she afraid Rin would renege on her promise? She gave Sree a wan smile.
“I don’t know how you were imprisoned, but I doubt such a thing could be done to me. It seems likely you originally had fewer protections than I do. I know I’m making a lot of assumptions, but I feel fairly certain of this. What puzzles me is why you would give yourself fewer protections.”
Rin shrugged. “Who can say?”
Sree sighed. “I doubt you would expose yourself by meeting with me, let alone take all the risks necessary to seek us out and destroy us, if you aren’t supremely confident in your current protections. That means you have at least eight.”
“Or maybe I’m just better at using them now.”
“You also didn’t contradict me when I mentioned rebinding your own sphere or that you have more protections than anybody else.”
Rin eyed Sree for a moment. “Maybe I wasn’t paying attention to what you said.” She leaned in. “Does it bother you to be ignored by your own sister? Because that’s what will happen after I fulfill my promise. I’ll never think of you again.”
Sree smiled. “Well, I won’t press the point, sister.”
“You already have.”
Rin wondered why she hadn’t been on guard when Sree mentioned the rebinding and number of protections. Was it because she felt at such ease speaking with her sister. There was a time when she almost viewed her as part of herself. A part she now was called upon to amputate. Maybe Rin just was distracted by her sorrow under the circumstances. Was that Sree’s purpose? What if the promise was intended to throw her off balance. Rin’s mind raced.
Once again, she calmed herself. She could not afford clouded judgment, especially around Sree. She could end up making another mistake like the promise, though Rin had a hard time imagining any mistakes left to be made. However, there was one thing she did need to worry about. It was fine that Sree had inferred such things — even impressive, if a bit disturbing. But what about him?
“Does anyone else know?” Rin ventured through gritted teeth.
Sree slowly shook her head. “I haven’t told anyone, but it is possible that others have figured it out on their own.”
“Others do not have the luxury of unfettered access to my thoughts, sister.”
Sree smiled.
Rin fixed her eyes coldly. “Does he know?”
Sree shook her head. “We never spoke of it.”
This felt evasive, but Rin did not wish to belabor the point. What was, was. Nothing would be gained by driving Sree into a corner, though any such concern was dispelled when Sree casually returned to her earlier obsession as if the last ten minutes had never happened.
“Has it occurred to you that maybe you and the crafting of these spheres are inseparable? That they always were part of you, waiting to emerge?”
Rin shrugged. “It’s an irrelevant distinction. We’re all part of the universe. Whether they came from me or were given to me or always were with me is immaterial.”
Sree slowly shook her head. “Are we all part of the universe? Are you sure of that? What if these spheres have severed us from it.”
“You spoke to that effect before, sister. These are interesting ideas, but we will find no answers. If that knowledge is within me, it hasn’t revealed itself. Most likely, I have been taught all the gods intend to teach me. As for the rest, all we may do is speculate. But is it your purpose to debate philosophy? I thought you had something to tell me.”
Sree nodded and thought for a moment. When she resumed, she spoke slowly.
“I was trying to ascertain whether you are indelibly attached to the act of crafting the spheres rather than just to your sphere itself, like the rest of us. I am not suggesting you apprehend the loss of your gift, and I have no desire to instill doubt or worry, sister. I just fear for you. These gods gave you this ability, and then asked you to destroy all that you created.”
“Yes, though they didn’t ask it, per se. They simply endowed me with the will to do so. Just like the knowledge.”
“And what makes you certain more knowledge won’t appear at some point too?” Sree suggested.
“I’m not. It may. What of it?”
“What worries me, sister, is that you may not like this knowledge.”
“I’m unsure what the point of all this is,” Rin griped, once again growing impatient.
“You accepted a gift from an unknown stranger.”
“I didn’t have much choice, but yes.”
“Is that really true?” Sree prompted. “You could have ignored it. You yourself suggested that others may have before.”
“They probably did not know what it was.”
Sree took a breath, and her voice recovered its usual melody. “Or maybe they knew exactly what it was. Would it not be wise to ask about that stranger, sister? That is all I am saying. Perhaps these gods are not as kind as they seem. There may be a greater cost to all this than you could bear.”
“I see,” Rin replied severely. “You do not wish to enter the abyss alone.”
Sree looked hurt. “That was very cruel, sister.”
Rin suddenly felt awful. This could be the last time they talked, and Sree had chosen to warn her. At the very least she could attend to that warning. There would be time enough to debunk these concerns later. Her temper quieted.
“Very well, suppose this is true and these gods are malicious. What avails me that knowledge? Other than worrying and fearing and hesitating, what can I do about it?”
Sree’s face lit up. “You understand, then! You finally have asked the right question, sister. You have all the time in the world, until you don’t. When they call for payment, it will be too late. You are protected now. Search this world for hints. Go beyond it if you must. If they never call in the debt, then you simply will have wasted a little time out of forever. But if they do, then there is a small chance you will have found a way to deny them, to evade that reckoning.”
Rin gave a light laugh. “There is no way to avoid a reckoning. That’s why it’s called a reckoning.”
A dark look crossed Sree’s face. “Sister, nothing in this universe is without cost.”
The fervor of her injunction took Rin aback. A minute passed before she replied, and when she did it was to steer the conversation away from her sister’s intense focus.
“And you?” Rin ventured. “What of you? Do you fear the cost?”
Sree offered a maudlin smile. “What you see of me is just a shadow, a remembered affectation. I have paid that cost for a very, very long time. Please free me, sister.”
“It will take a while to find the right way,” Rin warned.
Sree suddenly looked skeptical, and Rin snapped at her. “I promised I would, and I will.”
In response to her sister’s pained expression, Rin softened. “I know I haven’t been the most … reliable since last time. But this is different. I will do as I said.”
Sree nodded acknowledgment but still seemed wary. Or maybe she just had suffered for so long that the promise of relief felt implausible. Rin wondered what the years really had been like for her.
“You think it is a simple matter, but it is not,” Rin explained gently. “My feelings aside, it will take time to do this right. Believe me, you want this done right.” There was an ominous tone to these words, and Sree nodded silently.
“There, there, sister,” Rin comforted her, dabbing at one of Sree’s tears. “We’ve agreed on this, and I won’t forsake you.”
She looked her younger sister in the eyes and suddenly had an idea. “Now I have something to ask of you.”
"The idea didn’t materialize all at once, but I could recognize its outline...once acknowledged, they slowly coalesced of their own accord. As long as I kept the idea in the forefront of my being, made it my purpose, it did not fail to reveal itself over time... The idea was part of me and came from me, but there was no plausible way it could have." The process of inspiration--wonderfully distilled!