Total pages in book: 214
Estimated words: 195876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 979(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 653(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 195876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 979(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 653(@300wpm)
"Here at Confluence. Is that even possible? Could there be a siphon on campus? I know they are just supposed to be monsters from children's stories, but I thought if anyone would know it would be—"
Voss rises and circles his desk to sink into his chair. He leans forward, fingers forming a steeple. "It is possible. Yes."
His straightforward admission knocks the air from my lungs.
"Where exactly did you hear this rumor?"
"I don't recall." The lie seems to hang in the air, bright and obvious as it waits for him to strike it away and demand the truth.
But his only reaction is the smallest tick at the corner of his mouth. "I see. Little is known about siphons. Even among the powerful. Though encountering a siphon and living to tell of it is virtually unheard of, we know they exist. Would you like to know how, Nessa?"
My throat works against a sudden dryness, but I nod.
"It's the condition of the victim afterward. If they had no affinity, the eyes become empty sockets of shadow. The veins blacken, and every drop of liquid in the body evaporates, leaving a shriveled, horrific corpse. For those with an affinity, the mark is completely blackened, as if burned away. The sight is... deeply disturbing."
I think back to the hushed conversation I overheard with Raith months ago on the castle walls. "Has a body like that been found here? On campus?"
A troubled shadow crosses his features, like storm clouds momentarily blotting out the sun. "That would be extremely concerning. It would mean our protections have failed and the siphons are far more powerful than we anticipated—that they can move freely among us even in a place where the average student possesses enough power to overwhelm several trained soldiers."
"So... it wouldn't be possible?"
Voss interlaces his fingers, eyes never leaving mine. "I didn't say that. I merely said it would be concerning."
"Does anyone know what they look like? Siphons, I mean."
"Just like you and me. Identical, if they wished it. We believe they can adopt the forms of those they observe. Or perhaps physical contact is required to steal another's appearance. We don't know. But it's the only explanation we've conceived for how they evade detection so thoroughly." Voss sighs. "Centuries of confronting them and our knowledge remains pitifully limited."
"So what do we know?"
"Good," he says with a half-smile. "You're asking the right questions. We know they can kill elementals. Truly kill them."
A pulse of raw anger passes through the tether from Typhon. I know elementals can “die” in a fight in our world, but Typhon has assured me they’re just energy. Under normal circumstances, they can’t truly die. They can just be dispersed and need time to gather themselves back into being. But siphons can absorb them into nothingness. Real death.
I gnaw my lower lip, considering. "Elementals must despise siphons even more than humans do."
"Astute observation. Yes. And now you've discovered the root of conflict between elementals and humans. The histories claim siphons were created by an exceptionally powerful unbound with a unique manifestation. The specifics are murky, naturally. These events transpired over a thousand years ago. Ancient times."
"Do the histories explain why an unbound created siphons? Why do something so terrible?"
"No. It's not recorded. All we know is the elementals disagreed on how to address the threat. This division led to fires and earths primarily allying with the Red Kingdom while waters and airs mostly sided with Empire."
"So everything—our entire conflict—really began because of one unbound?"
Voss nods. "Thus the need for discretion regarding your status. Both elementals and humans fear what your kind can become. We need only examine our history to see the devastation wrought by a… single unbound individual."
His words carry weight. Nauseating weight. They drive home the point I’ve already been feeling poised at my throat since finishing the unbound book. They make me feel like the monster I fear I could be—the monster my mother and sister thought but worse in every way.
"Why help me, then?" My voice emerges smaller than intended. "Why not throw me over the castle wall and be done with it?"
"He could try," Typhon roars in my mind.
"Because I believe you can help us. How, specifically, is a matter for another time. For now, concentrate solely on improvement. You must survive to be useful to anyone, and I cannot personally shield you during the Crucible."
Voss suddenly claps his hands and offers a friendly smile as he stands. "In any case, these matters needn't concern you today. Focus on what you can control. Your training. Maintaining your academic standing. Finding a fifth for the Crucible. Surviving. Because you're useless to everyone dead. That is one certainty you can cling to.”
My fingers twist into the fabric of my clothes. "But you said siphons might assume any form. How can I trust anyone knowing that?"