The Strength of the Few (Hierarchy, #2)

by James Islington

“Vis?” Eidhin’s voice. Distant beneath my pounding heart. “He has made his choice,” comes the iunctus’s soft reply. As soon as the second iunctus has ceded to me, I’m moving across to the third impaled form. There’s motion in the corner of my vision. The first one is on his feet, descending from the platform with calm, mechanical intent. I imbue the third man. Watch the black, glimmering sliver of stone retract. Allow him to give up half his Will to me. Then take a weary seat as he stands and heads purposefully after the other two. Minutes pass as I just watch in horrified, vaguely sick silence. First there is only the movement of the three iunctii. Then six. Then a dozen. On and on, a widening ripple of waking corpses. The Will being ceded to me builds in ever growing increments. My weariness begins to wash away, even if my misgivings do not. “They will continue until each node is filled to its most efficient level,” says the iunctus behind me. “Once their pyramids are set, they will be unable to attack one another, or you, or leave—but will otherwise regain control of themselves. Their memories. Any further restrictions will be up to you.”