Spirit's End

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by A. R. Knight


  “But all of you are spirits?” Selena said. “How are you doing this?”

  Cheo looked at her quizzically. “Spirits again? What are you meaning with this word? We are all members of the Left Hand. We have all been collected and called to our duty. This is our home, our sacred place to protect.”

  Our sacred place. The words had a weird ring to them. Spoken with a reverence that I’d not heard in a long time. The same sort of reverence that, as a young child, I’d heard in churches. Or in town squares as criers delivered sermons of the day. Whomever these spirits were, I didn’t think they believed themselves to be dead.

  “Cheo, how many of you are there?” I said. “How big is the Left Hand?”

  “Nearly a hundred,” Cheo beamed. “One hundred souls ready to pick upe spears for Mali and vanquish the Right Hand.”

  “And the Right Hand? How big are they?”

  “Sadly, they are larger still. I fear if we do not bolster our number soon, they will come to crush us.”

  Cheo said the words and frowned. Then turned to one of the larger huts, one that was more than three times the size of Nara’s. He pointed to it. “Please, follow me over there. We can talk more about the plan.”

  “The plan?” Selena said.

  “Of course! Our grand attack to bring down the Right Hand,” Cheo said. “It must begin soon. Before they know we are coming.”

  As we walked through the village the spirits of the Left Hand looked over at us. Some even offered waves. All of them looked conscious and cognizant. None had the vacant stares of spirits caught by the Cycle. None had the pale fire eyes of one lost to Riven’s insatiable hunger. No, whatever the spirits were, they’d found a way outside of what made Riven a brutal universe. Selena and I caught each other’s eyes and nodded. Mali had created her own little corner in this dead world.

  Inside, the hut lacked even the basics. Only a small pit for a fire, this one unlit. Some sparse bundles of plants and grass forming little circles around the inside. As though someone had put the house together and forgotten how to fill it. Cheo sat down on the hard ground and motioned for us to do the same. I looked for beds, for any sign of the usual life comforts. The sort of things that any permanent village would have to have. But I saw none.

  “Tell me,” I asked Cheo before he could launch into his plan. “Has this village been here as long as the Left Hand?”

  Cheo cocked his head at me. “Of course. How could there be a Left Hand without a home for them?”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” Selena said.

  “It doesn’t have to,” Cheo replied. “But it is, nonetheless.”

  Selena and I waited a moment. To see if Cheo would offer some additional explanation. But it seemed like with that recitation, the statement that sense and logic need not apply, that the matter was settled.

  “When we go to attack the Right Hand,”Cheo said. “You should know that it will be hard fighting. It always is. They will not hold back, and neither will we.”

  “We’re used to it,” I said.

  “I expected so.”

  Cheo laid out an intricate plan of assault on a village that seem to be much the same as the one we were now sitting in. A series of huts in a large clearing. At least, that’s what it looked like going by the rocks Cheo laid out on the floor and the marks in the ground he drew with a stick to illustrate exactly how we would be approaching. If there was one thing I took away from the plan, it was that Cheo harbored an undying hatred of the Right Hand. He infused every sentence with insults and anger. Until I couldn’t handle it anymore.

  “What do they do? The Right Hand?” I said. “What makes them so terrible?”

  “They tried to kill our goddess,” Cheo said, his voice falling into an almost stunned reverie. “They tried to take her from us. There is no act more unforgivable than to try to destroy one’s creator.”

  “How did they do that?” I said.

  “They attacked her temple,” Cheo said. “And we defended her. The Left Hand, we came to her aid and stopped them. Struck them down. But the Right Hand, they are like a disease. They will not leave us for long. They will try again. We must make sure they cannot.”

  Before another question could come to my lips, three more spirits entered the hut, some of the hunters from earlier. They bore the same bright smiles on their faces and waved their arms. They shouted that they had found more. More that were ready to join the Left Hand.

  The collection had been successful.

  Chapter 11

  We went outside the hut to a changed scene. Where before the spirits had been meandering around the village in what seemed like a reasonable imitation of life, as if they had one, now all those same spirits gathered around the pole in the center. Men, women, and children stood staring at that pole, and the five figures assembled around it. A quintet of confused and lost spirits; two were dressed as soldiers, another a child no more than ten, with the sunken look of one who’d fallen to disease. The last two were older women in flowing dress from a region I didn’t know.

  Cheo guided the two of us to the front of the circle, calmly pushing aside spirits in our path. They made way for us with deference, bowing at our faces and our backs. I couldn’t quite comprehend what was happening here. So unlike any other part of Riven. The spirits acted so differently. They didn’t seem to be bound, and yet they moved with purpose. They didn’t seem to have any recollection of who they used to be, but they were able to find a shared objective.

  Riven made it difficult to communicate with many spirits. Language and ideas didn’t transcend death. While I might know English, a spirit may not. What I took as a gesture of hello, another spirit might interpret as an attack. All of which made Riven a dangerous place to make assumptions. Here, though, it was as though the spirits were wiped clean. Replaced with a common personality, a common goal, a common mind.

  “Every second we’re here, I get more worried,” Selena said. “These spirits aren’t normal.”

  If Cheo heard her, he didn’t react. Instead, he led us to our part of the circle and then moved to the five in the middle. Cheo turned and held up his hands to the crowd. They began to murmur. Not individual speech, no, but the same three words over and over again in a low and constant hum.

  We are Mali.

  “Nara thinks this person is going to help her?” I whispered to Selena.

  “I suppose Mali has an army of spirits? She could use them to help cleanse Riven,” Selena said.

  “Or rule it,” I replied.

  The murmur built up in volume and speed, until it became a shout. All the spirits yelling in perfect unison. The five in the middle cast their eyes around, curious but unconcerned. Unafraid. Difficult to be scared when you were already dead. When you didn’t know what you were or what, if anything, was at risk.

  “Bring the water,” Cheo announced as the chant reached its height, loud to the point where I winced with every cadence.

  A path parted through the crowd of spirits, a wide berth filled with a moving vat. A cauldron of black stone. Eight spirits carried it, the vessel suspended on wooden sticks held above the ground. I couldn’t see over its lip, but it seemed, with the bend to the spirit’s shoulders, that whatever was in that pot was not light.

  “Set it down before our new friends,” Cheo commanded and the carrying spirits put down the pot in front of, first, the young girl.

  Now on the ground, I could see over the edge and into the vat. If you would have shown me the liquid back on Earth, on the other side, I would’ve told you that it was water. Perhaps dirtied, or tainted with some sort of dye. In Riven, the liquid’s pale blue cast reminded me of the Cycle and the fire that both drove spirits mad and made them sane.

  “Now she shall be the next to join us,” Cheo announced. “How do we welcome a new soul to the Left Hand?”

  “With the tightest grip,” the crowd shouted back.

  “And how do we thank them?” Cheo continued.

  “With the sweetest win
e,” the crowd replied.

  “I drank my fair share of wine,” I whispered to Selena. “It never looked like that.”

  “Carver,” Selena said. “If they offer that to us, I don’t think we should drink it.”

  “I’m not thirsty anyway.” I moved my hand to the lash’s handle. We still had our weapons. Cheo hadn’t bothered to take them away. Perhaps trusting that we were indeed his newest friends. His greatest allies in this strange war.

  The young girl walked up to the pot, placed her hands on the edge, and lifted herself up. Stared into the shimmering waters. She hesitated. Cheo walked up behind her, put his hand against her head, and dumped the spirit into the water.

  “Drink,” Cheo said.

  Another first in Riven. I’d never seen a spirit drink anything here, not that there was much in the way of liquid. I wasn’t even sure they could until that moment. I certainly hadn’t tried it since Piotr severed my cord with the living. The girl, though, took a large gulp. We could see her throat work as she swallowed. After a moment she stood back, turned to Cheo, and embraced him.

  “Welcome sister,” Cheo said. “Welcome to the Left Hand.”

  The rest of the five worked in turn. Each one going up to the pot, taking their drink, and coming back a loving member of the Left Hand. New additions to their village. After the final hug to welcome the newest brother, the second of the two soldiers, Cheo held up a hand. One hand, his left.

  “With this collection, we are finally ready. Ready to make a last end upon our great foes. Go now and prepare. We will march on the third cry,” Cheo announced. One of the spirits that had carried the pot put his hands around his mouth, curled them, and gave a sharp, high shout.

  “The first cry,” Cheo told us as the crowd dispersed. The same eight spirits that had carried the pot in, hefted it once more on the wooden carrier and lifted it away. “Are you ready?”

  “What was that?” I said, ignoring Cheo’s question. Selena and I were as ready as we were going to be. As ready as you could be in a place you suddenly no longer understood.

  “The collection?” Cheo said. “They were pledging loyalty. Joining us in our crusade.”

  “Why didn’t you try to do that for Selena and I?”

  “Because you do not need it,” Cheo said. “You are not lost. You are not searching for a cause.”

  “How do you know that we’ll help you?” Selena said. “Maybe we’re on the Right Hand’s side?”

  I shot her a warning glance, but Cheo laughed. Nodded past us. I turned and looked, followed Cheo’s eyes and noticed that on many of the treehouses, standing on roofs and on thatched decks, were spirits with bows and arrows. Rudimentary stuff, but their points had an unmistakable blue tint.

  “Dipped in Mali’s boon,” Cheo said. “Lethal to the Right Hand. Perhaps also to you.”

  “A threat. Because that’s what this was missing,” I said.

  “Only a warning,” Cheo replied. “One that will be unnecessary, I think. With your help, the Right Hand will fall. And then all of this can cease to be.”

  For the first time I saw Cheo’s smile falter. I saw something in those eyes that spoke of a deeper longing, something beneath his drive to ruin the Right Hand.

  “What are you looking for, Cheo?” I said.

  “For an end,” Cheo said. “To be free of this burden. To be free of this hate. To be free.”

  Another spirit sounded a cry. The second one. Cheo bid us a short farewell to go and get himself ready. To arm himself for what would be the last fight of his life, such as it was.

  Chapter 12

  Selena and I went into the hut to grab a moment alone. Outside, spirits shouted each other, called for this or that or the other thing. Making ready for a war. Something not even death seemed to exorcise from existence.

  “You know, you really do look ridiculous,” Selena said. She stood across for me, the meager fire pit between us. Her hair splayed around her face and touched the collar of her coat. Normally she kept it up, out of the way of any potential danger. Yet when we started on the trek to find Nara, I noticed she’d let it flow free.

  “I’d venture to say most of us do,” I said. She stood there, messing with one of her gloves, trying to make it a perfect fit for her fingers. Her eyes and her smile followed me.

  “Most of us don’t have a sword, a crossbow, a lash, and a long knife sticking out of them,” Selena said. “I have to say though, it’s growing on me.”

  “Now that I’m dead and you start giving me compliments?” I said. In Riven, you didn’t age. Selena would never change until she ventured to the Cycle. On the outside, at least. Beneath the skin, she was completely different from the woman I’d found wandering the streets.

  “Don’t want to miss my chance,” Selena said. “And someone ought to. You’ve been looking awfully sad lately.”

  “Guess that’ll happen when you die,” I said. I didn’t talk about how Selena had changed too. Riven usually had a dark effect on the soul, could desolate the most positive of people. Yet over these last few months, Selena had gone from dependent on Nicholas and I in order to crack a smile, to being the cause of our own.

  “You’ll get used to it,” Selena said. “Death has its advantages.”

  “Does it? Like what?”

  At first I think I fell for Selena because she was like me. Entirely without anyone else. I was an orphan, she was a spirit. Our secrets were shared with each other, because there was nobody to tell. Now, though, it wasn’t about what kept us apart from the others but what brought us together. Literally, Selena kept me safe from the Cycle’s song, and I did the same for her.

  “It strips away your needs,” Selena said, placing her hands above the small fire. “I don’t need the warmth from these flames. Don’t need to find food to eat, air to breathe. I’m never sick, nor tired. Centuries could pass without aging a day.”

  “But without any of those things, what do we have?”

  Selena stepped over the fire pit, slipped her hand beneath my chin, leaned in for a kiss. Our cold lips touched, and though I may not have had a drop of blood in my body, I may not have had a heartbeat, I had a soul. And in that moment, my soul found a partner.

  “You make a compelling argument,” I whispered into her smile. A smile that faltered as she stepped away from me. Back over the fire pit.

  “In a way, I think what we have is more pure now than it ever was before.” Selena threw a look out the door, at the spirits getting ready outside. “Our survival is dependent on each other, and there are no other needs getting in the way.”

  “I won’t think of it like that,” I said. Now it was my turn to chase her around the fire pit. Gently fold her in my arms. “This isn’t about survival. It’s about you and I. Together.”

  “Careful, Carver, you’re getting too sweet,” Selena laughed. “Don’t tell me my gruff guide is going soft?”

  I didn’t know whether the kiss made me soft or not. I didn’t care.

  “You realize we’re about to fight a war for a bunch of spirits?” I said when we parted. “That we left the city looking for an end to the fighting, and only found more?”

  “You and I have been fighting our entire lives.” Selena started checking her weapons, arranging herself for a fight. “Why did you think it would stop once our lives were done?”

  The great sword went over my back, the crossbow on top of it. No bolt loaded, as I wasn’t sure what I’d need to shoot first. The lash; coiled and slotted into the belt holster on my right. My long knife, sharp and ready, on the left.

  “For a while there,” I said. “I held some strange hope that you and I would find a way. That we could curl up in this imperfect corner of the world and make a life. Or I’d find a way to bring you back.”

  Selena tied back her hair, and we stood across from each other. Two guides, heavily armed and ready to dive into another fight. Seeing Selena stand that strong pulsed a thrill through me. Seeing the one you love confident and capable, that r
ush didn’t go away with death.

  “You already did,” Selena said. “You gave me a purpose. You taught me what I needed to know to survive. Now I’m returning the favor.”

  The third cry sounded. The call to yet another battle. I wouldn’t be fighting it alone.

  Chapter 13

  We flowed through the jungle with the Left Hand. Cheo’s band whispered between and above the trees, sliding through branches and around trunks with little more than the chatter of leaves to announce their passing. Cheo himself, along with us and some other spirits that I gathered hadn’t quite mastered the art of forest travel, trod along on the ground. Trampled ferns and fallen leaves beneath our feet.

  “Have you ever noticed, Cheo, that it all looks the same?” I asked our leader as we moved along.

  “The same?” Cheo replied.

  “The plants, the trees. They’re all copies. The same types, and they grow the same way.”

  “When I first came here, every branch stood unique. Flowers of every color bloomed. Creatures even whistled in the night or scattered at our approach.” Cheo’s voice fell into reverie. “Over time, such things have gone.”

  “Over time?” Selena asked. “How long have you been here?”

  Cheo looked at us, the corners of his mouth having trouble deciding whether to turn up or down. “Mali is a wonderful goddess, and I stay at her pleasure.”

  A goddess? Her pleasure? Mali’s private world kept getting more and more strange, and Nara wanted this person to help her?

  “Do you serve someone?” Cheo asked me when I posed the questions. “Have you ever lived and died to help another?”

 

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