Spirit's End

by A. R. Knight

  “After all we’ve done already? I get the feeling I’ll be underwhelmed,” Selena replied.

  Chapter 7

  We marched north for what must’ve been hours before noticing any change. Anything other than the endless grain. If Nara had been speaking the truth, then the vision her and the others had for Riven was a bland one. Who needed a field this large in a world where nobody had to eat?

  Selena, looking around, was the first to notice we’d found our way back. My eyes had been buried too low into the stalks, pushing one after another out of the way.

  “I think I can see the walls,” Selena said. “The north side of the city.”

  “Then we’re far enough west, according to Nara,” I said. “Time to go north.”

  “Have you ever been up there? North of the city?”

  “The farthest I’ve been was when we escorted that girl, Honora, from New York,” I said. There’d never been much interest in going north of the city. There weren’t enough spirits to make it worth your time. The Warrens and the Shambles were more fruitful hunting grounds. The crumbling factories in the Tar Pit more exciting than the dead grass and broken mansions on the north side.

  I lived in Riven now, though. Might as well explore my new home.

  We made our way to the wall, into that blessed hundred yard clearing between the end of the grain and the stone of the city. No gate in sight, only turreted stone splitting us from the chaos inside and the nothingness outside. I looked for sparks, but none lit Riven’s gray sky. Either we were too far away from the fighting, or it had already ended.

  “Never thought I’d see these walls and feel relief,” I said, touching my hand to the smooth rock. “I’d be happy to never go back in that field again.”

  “Something tells me that’s not likely,” Selena said, glancing back at the stalks. “Unless Nara decides to relocate.”

  Nara’s spark suggested we should continue along the wall until we hit the city’s north gate. Compared to the trek through the field, the clearing beyond the wall made for easy walking. Every so often I’d remember how long Selena and I had been going, how I hadn’t actually slept, well, at all since Piotr murdered me. I should have been exhausted. My body, after walking miles and miles, should have been aching. Instead, I felt the same. Not good, not bad. Just... there..

  When we came to the north gate, we found it an equal partner to the one on the east side, a single curving arch with room for ten to fifteen to walk underneath abreast. Both Selena and I took a long glance into the city. Back that way went home. To the east, the field dwindled and died, as though cut off by an invisible barrier. There were waving stalks of grain, and then, not a foot away, hard dirt. That flattened land extended north as far as we could see. A razed, empty landscape.

  “Can’t say much about their imagination,” I said, staring at the emptiness.

  “Nara lives in a hut in the middle of that field,” Selena replied. “I don’t think they were the most creative group. If I could make a world, Carver, it would be the most amazing place.”

  “Oh? Tell me,” I said replied as we set off on our walk north.

  “First, there would be an ocean,” Selena said. “Because I’ve never seen one. Towering waves along a beach that goes for miles and miles.”

  “Not a bad start,” I said.

  “The beach would transition into city. Not like Riven, or Chicago,” Selena continued. “No, it would be both bigger and smaller. No pollution, friends and neighbors you actually knew. Buildings that flowed together so that you could walk from one end of the city to the other without seeing the same thing twice.”

  “I guess your sketches weren’t all of your creative side,” I said. The charcoal and ash drawings covered the walls of her, our, apartment. Riven cityscapes that Selena captured from the balcony.

  “Maybe all this blandness brings it out in me,” Selena said. “In the middle of the city, though, there would be this grand tree. A trunk miles wide. Whole species would live in its branches, and the most delicious fruit would hang down for anyone passing by.”

  “I like your Riven more than this one,” I said.

  Selena kept talking as we walked, adding more and more details to the world of her imagination. I contributed commentary, and we were so immersed in the idea that when we saw Riven split apart in front of us it was disappointing to leave the dream behind.

  Canyons. That’s the word that came to mind. Great rifts in the ground in front of us, the earth descending and spitting into trenches carved out of the surface. To the east and west we could see more, their ridged edges poking over the otherwise hard-packed earth.

  The canyon in front of us stood wide, likely half a mile or more in distance. As though someone had stuck a shovel into the ground right at this point and declared this spot the start of it. I’d seen drawn pictures of, and read accounts about, the Grand Canyon back in America. Its painted sediments forming murals on the wonder’s walls. Here, though, Riven once again proved its ability to reduce nature to its most desolate form.

  Grays and blacks shaded up and down the canyon walls, though I couldn’t account for the colors. Riven’s light cast shadows, certainly, but the gradients along the ridged sides ahead of us followed no established pattern. More like someone casting about with a jar of ink, splattering its contents on a giant canvas with no thought to where it would lie.

  “And we were just talking about how boring this place is,” I said as we stood and stared.

  “Riven always surprises,” Selena replied.

  Surprises. What might be lurking down in that canyon? I didn’t see any spirits - this definitely wasn’t the way to the Cycle. The canyon bent not far beyond where we stood, and anything could be beyond the corner. I remembered the ghoul in the forest, that age-old monster waiting to devour any poor soul that wandered by. Why wouldn’t there be another one here as well?

  “I’m guessing Mali is down in there somewhere,” I said. “This is where Nara sent us. We’ll just be careful.”

  “Because we haven’t been careful before?” Selena replied. “Come on Carver. Whatever comes, we’ll be ready for it.”

  Smart, creative, and cocky? So many reasons why I loved this woman.

  Chapter 8

  We went into the canyon, walls going up on either side. As we went deeper I noticed that what I’d thought was shade, or colored rock, was in fact a mossy plant. Something like dark leaves on trees in the forest. It grew in strings and stretches threading its way between rocky outcroppings and crumbling dirt. In fact it seemed as if this stuff might actually be holding the canyon up, preventing it from collapsing in on itself. After the trees and the grain, I wasn’t exactly surprised over a new form of half-life in Riven.

  Beneath our feet the ground became more uneven, the dirt filling with rocks and divots. More natural. The ever-present ash flakes faded away, as though being filtered out from the sky. A sky which had lost some of its gray cast. I even picked out a note of blue. The farther north we went, the more Riven changed to resemble the world I’d left behind.

  “I don’t understand this place,” I said. “Riven isn’t itself.”

  “Mali’s a creator, isn’t that what Nara said?” Selena replied. “What if she’s making this?”

  “Then why isn’t Mali changing everything in Riven? Why only affect these canyons?”

  “Carver, you’re trying to ask why a spirit that’s been stuck here for centuries isn’t making sense.”

  “Point.”

  As we went further, the plants began to change. The black spidery moss began to shift to green. This too looked odd in its own way. The vines and leaves were perfect, spotless in their emerald color. Like the ghoul had been in the forest. Every so often flowers popped from one of the vines; florescent purples and blues. Beneath their feet the hard earth gave way to cushioned grass, all of uniform height. As though manicured by an especially attentive gardener.

  Trees began to jut out around us, not the tall dead statues w
est of the city but brown, bark encoded with leaves. Between their tangled branches, more vines looped and swayed. Ferns, all sharing the same sort of banded leaf spring up between the trunks. The same designs, appearing again and again. It was on one hand beautiful and on another unsettling.

  “Even when Riven does something incredible,” I said. “It can’t help but be a little bit creepy.”

  “I’m curious.” Selena traced a finger along the bumped bark. “If Mali made all this, then Mali made the city and the forest and the Mountain, but those are not identical. The buildings in the city aren’t one and the same repeated over and over again. This, though, it’s the opposite of natural.”

  “I’m thinking we’ll need to ask her a few questions,” I said.

  Of course, we’d have to find her first. The canyon widened around us until I couldn’t see the walls anymore. Blocked by the jungle, the thick vines. We were moving forward, pushing through the brush and hoping to find some indication that we were heading the right way.

  Yet, I would be lying if I said the yellow light filtering down on us from a blue sky didn’t bring me joy. And homesickness. For a few miracle moments I could pretend I was back on Earth.

  “How does it feel for you?” I said. “You remember things like this? Sky this blue?”

  “Were you ever told stories as a kid?” Selena said.

  “It depended on who I was with. Sometimes, the guide would tell me tales. Or read from a book. More often, I was left to my own devices.”

  “Seeing the sky, the sunlight, it’s like remembering a fairytale. That’s how I recall the life I used to have,” Selena said. “A story that I was told years before and now all I have are vague memories. Feelings and impressions.”

  “I suppose it all has to go eventually.”

  “You’ll replace it.” Selena threw me a smile. “You’ll make new memories. Find new things to love here. Riven might not be everything you want, but it isn’t empty. There are things here worth knowing. Worth loving.”

  “I can think of some.”

  I was in the middle of returning Selena’s smile when I noticed a glint coming from the tree to our right. There’s a certain shine to metal, a clear clue that it’s not natural. A harsh glare. Living in Chicago I’d seen that reflection every day. Among the leaves and rock of the canyon, there was no hiding it.

  With a single move, my right hand reached over my back and pulled off the crossbow. Caught the weapon in my left and aimed it at the light. Selena froze, followed my pointing.

  “Tell me who you are and I won’t shoot,” I shouted into the jungle. I turned the crank, loading a normal bolt. It wouldn’t wrangle a spirit, but it could hurt it plenty. Give us time to react if whatever held the metal proved to be less than friendly.

  “Shoot him?” said a voice behind me, curious and light. “Why would you do that? Neither of you look like you are members of the Right Hand.”

  I gave Selena a slight nod, didn’t move my crossbow or my aim. Selena drew her cleaver and pointed it over my shoulder at whomever had spoken.

  “Same goes for you,” Selena said. “Who are you and what you want?”

  “Me? I’m Cheo, and we’re part of Mali’s Left Hand,” the man said. “Would you please come with us? It will be such an honor to bring two such as yourselves for the collection.”

  Chapter 9

  The glint moved from the trees. Shuffled down through the branches and leaves. I kept my crossbow aimed at the shape as it shifted lower. Cheo, behind us, whispered words, names I didn’t recognize, into the jungle. Around us more people came out from behind tree trunks and dropped from other branches. All of them dressed in orange garb, each and every one of their shirts bearing a left hand printed in smeared, dirty red.

  “You can put your weapon away now; there are no Right-Handers here,” Cheo said.

  “You’re going to have to forgive me,” I replied. “I don’t plan on taking my hand off this trigger until I know what you are.”

  “Carver, that’s not exactly the best way to make friends,” Selena said.

  “It is okay. I understand. The Right-Handers are devious. Dangerous,” Cheo said as I turned to face him, still keeping the crossbow ready. “Keep your weapons. We will take you back to our village. Teach you why we are not to be feared.”

  “We don’t have the time,” I said. “We need to get to Mali. You know where she is?”

  “Mali?” Cheo said “The great one? Mali is all things. The giver and taker. The creator and the destroyer. We are not worthy of her. Neither are you.”

  “That’s presumptive,” I said.

  Cheo shook his head. “No, it is only fact. None of us can be worthy while the Right-Handers survive. As they cannot so long as we exist.”

  I glanced at Selena. “Do you think they know they’re spirits?”

  Cheo slanted his head. “Spirits?”

  “I don’t think so,” Selena said. “Nara said Mali could shape things. Maybe this is something that she’s doing?”

  “Cheo,” I said. “Do you know about the Cycle? Do you ever feel a compulsion to leave here and walk away?”

  Cheo shook his head. “You’re both very strange for wanderers. Most do not ask so many questions.”

  “We’re the curious type,” I said. Sounded like Mali had her own little slice of Riven and was making something very strange out of it. If Mali could change all of this, though, then maybe she really did have the power to save Riven. To block the breaches or blunt the anger of the dead.

  Power. That word, ever since Piotr and Graham, had taken on new meanings. Graham had shown me that spirits could have goals, and could work to achieve them. Piotr had bound both guides and spirits, formed a deadly force that chased his desires without heed for the consequences.

  Riven wasn’t as simple as it used to be. Wasn’t only about wrangling angry spirits and going back to Chicago for a drink in the afternoon.

  I missed that life.

  The group of people that had surrounded us - I counted eight of them - stared with smiles on their faces. The blank happiness that comes from a life unburdened. Now that they were close I could see that each one carried a variety of weapons. None of the quality the guides had. Sharpened sticks, bows and arrows with metal tips, some crude knives and axes. Whatever war Cheo and his Left Hand planned to fight, it wasn’t going to be a fancy one.

  “So you’re saying that the Right-Handers need to go if we’re going to see Mali,” I said, and Cheo nodded, this time with a vigor that had me worried he was going to pop his head off.

  “Yes, yes that’s it exactly,” Cheo said. “Come with us. Help us. When we defeat the hideous Right-Handers, then you will get your audience with Mali. Then the world will be righted.”

  “What do you think?” I asked Selena. For their part, the group seemed endlessly patient. Willing to beam at us with hopeful grins as we took our time.

  “It’s either we try to fight our way through them,” Selena said. “And keep wandering through these canyons, or help them and get a direct path to where we want to go.”

  “Agreed,” I said, then, to Cheo. “You’re up, captain. Lead on.”

  Cheo clapped his hands in what may have been the most pure display of sheer joy that I’d ever seen. Then he strode off into the forest, beckoning us after him. The rest of the Left-Handers filed in behind us as we marched, though I noticed more than half of them disappeared as we moved. Vanished back into the trees.

  “Where are they going?” I asked Cheo after the third one dropped away.

  “We are not done with the collection yet,” Cheo replied. “They are going to find more lost ones for us.”

  “Lost ones?”

  “Like you,” Cheo said. “Wanderers that can help. Most, though, are not so well-armed as yourselves. So great and powerful.”

  “Great? Powerful?” Selena said. “Don’t feed his ego, Cheo. Carver doesn’t need that.”

  “Apologies,” Cheo replied. “We are a band of l
ost souls. What we have for weapons comes from what we can find. What we can build. I look at your might and see hope. Things that could win our fight forever.”

  “That’s the idea,” I said.

  “Are the Right-Handers like you?” Selena said. “Spirits?”

  “They may share our face, but not our hearts,” Cheo replied. “All they are is evil. Terrible anger.”

  “How long have you been fighting?” I asked.

  “Forever,” Cheo replied. “There has always been a Right Hand and a Left Hand. Never has one completely wiped out the other.”

  I heard heat come into his voice. Cheo’s shoulders stiffened, and he glanced at me with a twisted vehemence that I’d only seen in a spirit consumed by uncontrolled rage.

  “That changes with the two of you,” Cheo continued.

  “Mali requires that you wipe them out completely?” Selena said. “She sounds vicious.”

  Cheo didn’t reply. Didn’t say anything as we continued moving through the jungle. Perhaps Selena had struck a nerve. Caused the spirit to revisit just what Mali was asking of him and the others. Then I caught myself.

  Who cared if the Left- and Right-handers destroyed each other? They were already dead.

  Chapter 10

  The plants thickened as Cheo led us through more groves of spindly trees and vines. He recovered, breaking out of his funk and promising that we would find ourselves amazed and awed by what the Left Hand had accomplished. By the paradise that they had put together here in the harsh land of the canyons. And of course, Cheo emphasized, they had done all of this despite the cold attempts by the Right Hand to hurt and kill every last one of them.

  Cheo wasn’t wrong. Whereas in the rest of Riven, the buildings and the cities had been objects of ruin and decay that lasted for centuries, moldering remains of dreams left to founder, the Left Hand had a home. A village of tree houses and thatched huts. A large square with a central dominating pillar inscribed with runes that I could not read or understand. Fires burned in large grilling pits, though I didn’t see any food actively cooking. Spirits wandered, men and women and even children going about building more homes, weaving clothes from plants, or bending and shaping wood into weapons. Here, perhaps, was Riven’s only society. A village of the dead that nonetheless felt alive.