“Let’s try your second favorite hiding place, Efran,” said Stefen as he spiraled downward to the Actuarium. “Maybe you are hiding behind the Codex and its worshipers.”

Stefen kept his voice low; the voice pipes were always listening, and they twined along the walls beside him. The staff around the Codex preferred to be called Actuarians. True, their job was important. Without the Codex, bribable humans oversaw the distribution of resources on their world. The farmers complained, of course, when the spring lambing was less than they expected, but Grignor charmed their objections away with wine.

The doors of the Actuarium were tall, brass, and covered with ornate symbols of their authority over land, sea, and sky. Around the frame, a network of voice pipes spread through the ambulatories of the monastery, humming with the sound of the Actuators’ commands.

“Have you seen Efram?” Stefen asked the nearest actuator as he passed through the door. The actuators didn’t drink Absent, so they could remember.

“Not a whisker. Is he missing again?”

“Yes. Has Grignor noticed anything?”

“No, he’s busy. The Codex has strengthened—blessed be its wisdom.”

The actuator added a hasty blessing, covering the fear in his voice.

Stefen leaned back, searching the environment. Like an ancient tree, the Codex extended its golden branches in all directions. Across the floor, ranks of valves and levers controlled the flow of chemicals that its massive rhizome distributed to their farms. Actuators climbed over it like bark beetles, feeding nutrients into its golden taps with murmured prayers. 

On the livestock tally, Stefen noted they had brought forth the spring wheat three weeks early. Overhead, Stefen heard the slithering sound of branches moving against themselves. A compact man with long, hairy arms hugged a limb, his moon-shaped face turned toward the trunk as he purred praise into an audio receptor.

“My blessed Codex, we thrive with your magnificent guidance,” said Grignor.

“My blessings on Faith,” the Codex said, rustling its branches to simulate the sound of speech. “How many more provinces await my guidance?”

Below them, Stefen left. He headed back to the monastery—he had to find Efran.

#

Stefen searched the ambulatories. These halls connected the Shared Sanctum at its front with their cathedral, carved deep into the Holy Mountain. He peered into the pervasive gloom, cut by slivers of weak sunlight that eked through the high, narrow windows. In the central cloister, the fragrance of frying bacon stimulated his olfactory sensors. Tightening his belt, he sighed, wishing he could eat what men ate. He passed drafty, lead-veined windows and detoured around a potted orange tree, leafless and barren of fruit. At the third turn, he found Efran sitting on a bench in a patch of sunlight. He leaned back into a corner, his eyes closed. To Stefen’s eye, Efran’s face was wrinkled well beyond his actual age.

He touched Efran’s narrow shoulder, but the tiny monk didn’t rouse.

“Good morning, Brother,” Stefen said.

Efran’s spotted hand fisted a handful of Stefen’s tunic. With a rattling sound, Efran inhaled his last breath and wheezed it back out. The pulse under his jaw staggered. He sagged into Stefen’s arms and died.

Stefen’s mind whirled with permutations on the outcome of this unexpected event. Efran shouldn’t have died unless he’d been caught in an accident. Exposure to temporal radiation killed, but the monks protected themselves with glass and the daily dose of Absent raised their resilience.

So, what was it? Efran’s hands had the vein covered bones of a ninety-year-old. How had he aged so much overnight?

For the benefit of any eyes watching, Stefen made the signs of the Three-fold Blessing, the Loop, the Code and the Codex on Efran’s body and bent his head in prayer.

“Blessings on you, my dear brother. May you travel forever on the Infinite Loop.”

Stefen projected his voice to ensure that anyone listening would hear him.

Stefen collected the spiked thimbles from Efran’s fingers and refolded his spidery hands. He laid Efran out on the bench, closed his eyes and straightened his robes. He found a small lump in Efran’s pocket. Thinking it might be a key, Stefen retrieved the item. A shiny white Infinity bead lay in his palm. Only the Elaran Sisters used these, so why did Efran have one?

#

The Tapestry (part 3 of 9)

The Tapestry is a science fantasy featuring hidden truth, secret identity, and last-minute rescue. Set in a clockwork world, it follows Alyse as she as she uncovers a break in the tapestry that runs her world, and Stefen — who isn't quite who he seems — racing to stop her before it all comes apart.

Ann Cudworth (also writing as A. C. Worth) is the author of short fiction in Metaphorosis Magazine, Exterus, and Sci-Fi Lampoon, and the anthologies Score—An SFF Anthology, Radicle, and Sages of Metaphorosis. She writes science fiction and urban fantasy, shaped by workshops at Odyssey Writing Workshop and the Sarah Lawrence Writing Institute, as well as Futurescapes and the Juniper Writing Institute.

Copyright 2026 Ann Cudworth. All rights reserved.
Read more at https://www.acworthwriter.com/