“Great,” Rune said. “But I think all this talk of how someone becomes an Incarnate is getting us sidetracked.”
I gave him an incredulous look. “You don’t think that how a person becomes an Incarnate might have a bearing on how he can be killed?”
He seemed to dwell on the question for a moment, and then stated, “Fair enough. More importantly, your observation highlights why we need your help.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? How so?”
“Frankly speaking, we have terrible detective skills.”
I laughed. “I would think that, with the power Incarnates wield, you people would be the best detectives in the universe.” I put my forefingers and thumbs together, then spread them out like a banner unfurling as I pretended to read a headline, stating, “Rune the Incarnate, Private Eye. No Crime Unsolved.”
“Hilarious,” Rune deadpanned. “In truth, however, you’re not that far off-base. Under most circumstances, if an Incarnate wanted to know what had happened in a particular instance, we could just read the minds of those involved, go back in time and look at the incident, or something else along those lines. We’ve basically never needed to be good at being gumshoes, because determining the truth in any particular scenario has never been problematic.”
“So, what’s the problem with doing any of that stuff now?” I asked. “Reading minds, for instance.”
“For one thing, it’s impossible to read the mind of an Incarnate unless they allow it,” Rune replied. “And even if they do, you can’t be sure that what they’re allowing you to observe is what really happened.”
I nodded as this information sank in. From past experience with Rune, I knew that Incarnates could warp reality. That being the case, they could create fake memories without breaking a sweat.
“So, in essence, you read each other’s minds and everyone had an alibi.”
“Uh…” Rune droned. “Not exactly.”
I gave him a look that I was sure conveyed my bewilderment, but before I could ask him to explain himself, Rune sat up and cocked his head to the side.
“Let’s finish this later,” he said, getting to his feet. “We have company.”
Following my companion’s lead, I stood up and turned to the doors, which were just starting to open, and in walked a man who — much to my surprise — was as much a spectacle as Rune.
Chapter 5
The man who entered our suite appeared to be young — maybe in his mid-twenties — with long brown hair that was braided and hung down his back. Maybe an inch shorter than my six-foot height, he had comely features and an easygoing smile. However, that was where anything close to “normal” in terms of appearance ended.
For starters, the newcomer — from head to foot — seemed to be covered in water. That’s not to say that he was soaked, like someone who’d gotten caught in a rainstorm without an umbrella (although to a certain extent that appeared to be the case). It was more the fact that water seemed to run all over his body, starting at the crown of his head and cascading down, with small undulations flowing across his skin, like ripples on a fountain wall.
In addition, even his clothes appeared to be made of water. Or rather, to be more exact, I garnered the impression that he was clothed with water. From his shoulders to his ankles, he was seemingly “dressed” in liquid that approximated the shape of a full-length overcoat (and which was also, thankfully, murky and therefore visually impenetrable to the naked eye). The surface of his attire appeared to roil with small breakers and swells that would surge and crest frothily on a continual basis. Taken altogether, it was if he had somehow managed to drape himself in a miniature ocean.
Finally, as one might expect, water naturally pooled beneath him as he walked. (And I noticed that, like his clothes, he wore sandals that appeared to be made of water as well.) However, rather than leave a trail like someone traipsing through a house after coming inside from a downpour, the liquid followed him around, almost like it were his shadow, leaving the floor dry in its wake.
Without being told, I inherently sensed that our visitor was an Incarnate. Smiling, he walked toward my companion.
“Rune,” the man said in greeting.
At the same time, something like a deluge came out of nowhere, soaking Rune to the skin. It was as if someone had held an invisible bucket of water over his head and then dumped it on him. (Oddly enough, nothing besides Rune got wet.)
“Really, Mariner?” Rune muttered as the new arrival — Mariner — laughed heartily.
“In case you forgot, I owed you from last time,” Mariner said with a grin. “Now we’re even.”
Mariner made a gesture with his hand, and Rune was immediately dry again, all traces of water gone as if they’d never existed.
“Better?” Mariner asked.
“I suppose,” Rune answered. “Although I would have been just as happy never to have been wet at all.”
Ignoring him, Mariner glanced at me, then back at my companion. “Well, aren’t you going to introduce me?”
“Sure,” Rune replied. “Jim, this is Mariner. Mariner, Jim.”
Mariner extended a hand in my direction and I instinctively reached for it, momentarily forgetting that he was literally covered with water. As a result, I expected a cold and clammy handshake. Much to my surprise, the hand I shook was dry, with the liquid covering him having apparently receded just before we made contact.
I looked him in the eye as we shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, and noticed something that took me almost completely by surprise. The water flowing down from his crown didn’t just cascade across his skin, like his forehead, brow, and eyelids. It actually ran over his eyeballs, as well — something that I initially found unsettling.
However, if I reacted out of the ordinary in any way, Mariner didn’t seem to notice. He released my hand and took a seat at the end of the couch, which immediately became soaked. I took
