Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 273
visions of the Winds, and the Winds didn’t punish them for
this. Allegri had told Jordan that he might be one of those with
such a talent. He had been wrong at the time; what Jordan had
been experiencing then was visions of Armiger--and those, the
Winds surely disliked.
But this? This communion with a simple object seemed
to have nothing to do with Armiger. Maybe it had been
enabled by whatever Calandria May had done to Jordan’s head.
But was it forbidden by the Winds?
Well, he had Calandria’s protective gauze. Jordan was
confident he could hear the approach of the greater Winds in
time to don it and escape.
It came down, then, to a matter of courage.
"What are you?" he asked the knife.
"I am knife," said the knife.
Even though he was expecting it, Jordan was so startled
he dropped the thing.
He picked it up, and began nervously walking. "Knife,
what are you made of?"
The voice in his head was clear, neutral, neither male nor
female: "I am a combination of iron and carbon. The carbon
is a hardening agent."
He nodded, wondering what else to ask it. The obvious
question was, "How is that you can speak?"
"I am broadcasting a combined fractal signal on visible
frequencies of radiation."
The answer had made no sense. "Why can’t other people
hear you?"
"They are not equipped to receive."
That was kind of a restatement of the question, he
thought. How will I get anywhere if I don’t know what to ask?
He thought for a moment, shrugged, and said, "Who