I swung back around to where Rune and Mariner were still facing off. The former was still slapping his colleague’s projectiles aside, but the resulting fragments were practically destroying the room, tearing through furniture, walls and more.
Without warning, a geyser erupted beneath Rune’s feet, carrying him up until it slammed him into the ceiling, then letting him drop unceremoniously to the floor. He was up in a moment, hurling something like a snowball at Mariner, who — now wielding what appeared to be a watery whip — struck it in midair. Almost immediately, the whip froze, with the frost traveling not only the length of the weapon, but up Mariner’s arm to the elbow.
Mariner made a jerking motion with his arm, shaking off the frost. Even more, his whip was now encased in flame, much as his sword had been earlier. He drew his arm back, plainly intent on using the whip to inflict a punishing strike on Rune, whose hands were now glowing as he prepared to employ some new weapon (or defense) of his own. However, before either made another move, Endow appeared, standing between them.
“Enough!” she roared, glaring at the two men.
“Okay, okay,” Rune said sheepishly, holding up his hands — which were no longer glowing — defensively.
“Yeah,” added Mariner, whose whip had also vanished. “We were just goofing off.”
“Well, you two — with your horseplay and juvenile pranks — need to stop before you destroy this castle,” she scolded.
“Fine,” Mariner acquiesced. He waved a hand, and the entire room returned to its former, undamaged state, with the walls once more whole and the furniture intact. He then smiled at Rune and said, “Until next time, Inscrutable.” And then he vanished.
Endow turned to Rune expectantly. “Well?”
“I was just demonstrating to Jim how none of us have an alibi,” he explained. “Basically, we can practically be in two places at once, and we can affect things outside our presence.”
“Like making lightning strike in a colleague’s room?” she chimed in, causing Rune to look a little embarrassed. She then looked in my direction. “So, was Rune’s little spectacle beneficial?”
Becoming substantial again, I shrugged. “I don’t know. It certainly didn’t help eliminate any suspects, which is what I was gunning for. In essence, Rune’s demonstration shows that no one has an alibi.”
“Well, are there other options for narrowing the list of suspects?” Endow asked.
“Nothing immediately comes to mind,” I admitted. “Under ordinary circumstances, I might be able to use my empathic abilities to read the room and try to whittle the list down that way. Unfortunately, I can’t really sense the emotions of Incarnates. In fact, Static is the only person I’ve been able to pick up on.”
As I finished speaking, I noticed Rune and Endow exchange a glance.
“What?” I asked, realizing something unspoken had passed between the two of them. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing really,” Rune said. “It’s just that we should have realized you’d sense something from Static.”
“Because of his relationship with Gamma,” Endow added, “it’s no surprise that — emotionally — he’s having trouble keeping things contained.”
“So, were they an item?” I asked. “Dating? Was he in love with her or something?”
Endow gave me a look that hovered somewhere between aversion and repugnance. I got the impression that she wanted to wash my mouth out with soap. No, it was more like she wanted to wash it out with soap, scour it with a steel brush, and then rinse it with bleach.
After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Endow said, “She was his mother.”
My eyes widened in surprise. “Oh.”
Well, that explained Endow’s look of distaste and disdain.
“Wait a minute,” I blurted out as a thought occurred to me. “They were mother and son? Don’t you Incarnates have some kind of ‘No Nepotism’ policy?”
The other two exchanged another glance, and then Rune put in, “Uh, yeah…we’re circulating a draft around the office.”
Ignoring him, Endow stated, “It’s uncommon, but not unknown or unprecedented for two Incarnates to be related.”
“So which of them was an Incarnate first?” I asked.
“Gamma,” Rune said. “She was an Incarnate long before Static was even born.”
“Is that important?” Endow inquired.
“Probably not,” I admitted. “How’s he taking her death?”
“Just as you’ve seen,” Rune said. “No real outward display, but apparently some internal turmoil, which you’d expect — even from a Chomarsus.”
“Hmmm,” I muttered. “Why ‘apparently’?”
“Huh?” Rune said.
“You said that Static ‘apparently’ has some inner turmoil,” I explained. “Wouldn’t you know for sure?”
“No,” Rune declared. “I based my comment on your assessment.”
“Incarnates typically don’t try to read each other that way,” Endow chimed in. “Just as we don’t try to read each other’s minds.”
“Is it considered rude, or something?” I asked.
“It’s not so much that,” Rune answered, shaking his head. “It’s just that it’s another exercise in futility. Like reading their minds, you’ll only pick up what a Chomarsus is willing to share, and even then you won’t know if it’s a sincere emotion.”
“Unless it’s a situation like this,” I opined, “where someone like Static is dealing with something incredibly emotional.”
“Yes,” Endow agreed. “I recall it happening with Gamma before, when one of her other children died.”
I frowned, thinking. “She had other children?”
“Yes,” Endow replied. “Long before Static, however.”
“Natural causes,” Rune said. “They grew old and died.”
My forehead wrinkled as I reflected on that. Parents outliving their kids had to be painful — even for beings like Incarnates.
“Okay,” I conceded. “I can see how Gamma would have found that distressing.” I didn’t even want to think about what it must have been like for Static to help recreate her last moments.
“You have to understand,” Endow remarked. “As Incarnates, we’ll still be alive after the sun goes out. We all had to make our peace with the fact
