But I did my best to shake it off. Mom and Dad were out there. Rose. Ben. My family. I couldn’t leave them, and I certainly couldn’t allow the clones to cause any more damage to my beloved island. They’d brought the war to my doorstep, and I was ready to fight back. With Astra, Jericho, Dafne, and Soph by my side, I was confident we’d overcome anything the clones might throw at us.
Tristan
We took our time surveying the village. It was surrounded by an invisibility cloak of death magic, similar in effect to what GASP had used to conceal sensitive locations but likely different in how it worked and how it could be broken. Unending and I had agreed to keep quiet and stealthy as we looked for a way in.
Her scythe’s blade glimmered as she brought it closer to the translucent membrane. The tip pushed into it but bounced back. Everything else around us was quiet and mostly dark, with the exception of illuminated veins on nearby leaves. The jungle was signaling our presence, and it made me feel uneasy as I watched Unending trying to figure out how to breach the protective spell.
“I think I know what this is,” she whispered after a while. “I’ve seen this used before. It’s not the kind of magic I’d make with those specific words and sub-words, but I know someone who did.”
“Who’s that?” I asked.
She looked at me. “Death. I think Death gave Joy the recipe for this.”
“Okay. That doesn’t exactly come as a surprise. What do we do? How do we breach it?”
Unending took a deep breath and started moving along the edge of the protective shield, carefully watching her steps. “We need to find a weak spot. I remember Death observing a small flaw in its design. The greater the surface it covers, the thinner it gets. There will be portions of it where the magical fabric is delicate enough that I can affect it with my scythe. We just need to find one of those places. The hole will heal itself, eventually. Probably in an hour or so.”
I quietly followed as she held the scythe against the membrane, the surface shimmering softly where the blade grazed it. Nervously looking around, I noticed wolf-like animals standing back and watching us. Well, they weren’t technically watching us, since they couldn’t see us, but they had noticed the shield’s reaction to Unending’s touch. Their nostrils flared as they tried to capture a scent, but none of them moved. There was something about this place that held them back, likely the death magic itself. I, for one, was thankful that Unending had developed an invisibility spell that no longer required physical contact for the obscuring magic to stay up. We were both unseen without having to constantly touch one another—it came in handy when sneaking around a village of spirit-bending fae protected by a ruthless Reaper. Once my wife revealed herself, she would automatically reveal me, too.
“Here…” Unending whispered, coming to a sudden stop. She put the scythe down for a moment and used her fingers to feel the membrane. It rippled under her touch, and she smiled. “There is a finite amount of energy used to cast this shield, which is why its strength is dependent on its square-mile coverage. Had this place been even five hundred yards smaller, the membrane would’ve been thicker and more resistant.”
She picked up her scythe and whispered a spell against its blade, closing her eyes for a moment. When she pressed the weapon against the shield, I could see the world beyond it shifting, as if a veil had just been raised and we were no longer blind. “This is only a window for us to see through,” Unending whispered. “It serves to further weaken this spot, too.”
“Oh, wow.” I tried to take it all in.
Beyond the protective magic, a quaint and beautiful little world appeared. The houses were round and dome-shaped, made of chalk-like bricks. They resembled igloos, but with windows and open archways for doors. There were white stone pathways that connected the residences, like a network of sorts, not only to one another but also to the village center, where a large square structure rose proudly like a giant watching over its flock.
The plants that grew beneath the protective magic were completely different from the ones in the jungle itself. I had a feeling the greenery of the soul fae was ancient, long since extinct anywhere else on Rothko. The jungle had developed around this place, but there must’ve been something else about a million years ago. Or three million years ago. Hell, ten million years ago, maybe a scorching desert had dominated this region. Either way, beneath the protective magic, time had stood still.
Flowers that resembled Earth’s orchids poked their pink and yellow heads out of clover beds, each arrangement neatly enclosed in white stone pots about three feet wide and four feet long. They filled every inch of empty space between the dome houses and the pathways. Water gushed from fountains mounted in every other yard, and birds sang from the tall, slender trees with spherical green-and-white crowns. This village had been designed to perfection, the soul fae making the most of what little space they had.
They were stunning creatures, I realized as I watched them go about their day. Some were filling pitchers of glass with crystalline water. Others were using ceramic bowls to collect nectar from the orchid-like flowers. The children were particularly joyful about this, flanking their parents, eager to dip their fingers in the golden syrup-like substance.
“Notice anything familiar?” Unending whispered, unable to take her eyes off them.
Indeed, I could see the resemblance. Each of the soul fae carried a tiny bit of the Spirit Bender in their features. The sharp, high cheekbones in particular. The inquisitive eyes were strange, however. They glistened in shades of lilac and mint green, their pupils white. I’d almost forgotten that Reapers’ eyes only became like miniature galaxies upon their creation. The Spirit Bender’s original soul must’ve belonged to a soul fae like this, with lilac or mint green eyes… Their lips were pale, and their hair was long and soft, like milky white silk pouring down their shoulders. They wore simple clothes, likely made from cotton-like threads, with various colorful embroidered motifs adorning the necks and sleeves.
They were slender, fine-boned creatures. Easy to break, I thought. No wonder Death had wanted them protected. The soul fae were the most delicate creatures I had ever seen. Like wisps of life that had somehow found a way to survive and experience joy even in the midst of this rugged wilderness. I wondered what they thought of their enclosure. Had they ever contemplated going beyond these death-magic-imposed limits? Had they ever yearned to discover the outside world?
Far past the houses and the square building in the middle of the village, I could see the tops of peculiar trees, unlike anything else I’d seen in the jungle. From that same area, animal sounds emerged—squeaky bleating and husky clucking. They probably had domesticated animals, making them a part of their lives. Had the animals been here as long as the soul fae, or were they more recent additions? I had so many questions, my tongue was practically itching.
“They’re peaceful creatures,” Unending murmured. “Notice how none of them are carrying weapons.”
“Joy obviously protects them fiercely, since they’ve survived this long,” I replied.
“There is comfort and safety here. As much as I’d like to berate Death for her hypocrisy regarding her intervention in the natural affairs of the universe, I have to admit I’m glad she saved them. They’re… quite the sight to behold.” She paused to give me a sly grin. “I bet you’ve got a ton of questions, Mr. Anthropologist Extraordinaire.”
“You can’t even begin to imagine.” I chuckled, then grew serious. “Can we get in? I’m glad we can see through the protective magic, but is the membrane weak enough to grant us entry?”
Unending nodded once. “Bear with me, my love. You’ll get to talk to them yourself before long.”
We needed to speak to them anyway, considering the item we were looking for was somewhere in their village. But I certainly welcomed the opportunity to converse with these creatures, to understand more about their way of life and seclusion. It couldn’t have been easy to be stuck here, though they all seemed content with their
living arrangements. Nothing about the village spoke of intrusion against the natural elements—as far as I could see, they lived in perfect harmony with their environment. But since Rothko’s Hermessi were so ruthless and violent, I could certainly see why Death had taken additional precautions to protect them.
“I’m wondering… if the local Hermessi are so violent, why would Death leave the soul fae here? Why not relocate them somewhere else?” I asked.
“To be honest, I have no idea. But if I were to guess, I’d say Death is a bit of a sentimental. She didn’t want to take them away from their home, regardless of its conditions.”
“Or maybe she didn’t want to take them to another place where others might find them, accidentally or otherwise,” I suggested.
Unending chuckled. “Perhaps she just wanted to stick it to the local Hermessi. To prove that they couldn’t destroy everyone. That they couldn’t go against her. That actually makes more sense.”
Unending whispered another spell against the blade, then used it to cut an opening through the membrane. Without hesitation, we slipped inside, the hole slowly closing up behind us. We’d reached the soul fae village undetected, and my heart was racing, a rapid pulse pounding in my ears. Excitement and fear had taken over, making it harder for me to concentrate, but Unending took my hand in hers and squeezed gently.
“It’s going to be okay,” she said, revealing us both.
The soul fae didn’t notice us right away as we walked quietly toward them. Following one of the white stone paths, we reached the nearest igloo-house, where a young woman was gingerly squeezing the orchid-like blossoms to extract their precious nectar, each droplet filling the ceramic bowl in her hand. She had mint-green eyes, her white hair loosely braided over one shoulder.
Unending opened a telepathic connection between us and her, using our thoughts and words to convey our good intentions. I didn’t speak their language, but I was suddenly able to understand the young woman and the other soul fae. It was as if a whole new world had revealed itself to me, filling my mind with their warm thoughts.
“Hello,” Unending said, her lips fixed in a soft smile.
The soul fae glanced up and finally saw us. She froze, fear marring her beautiful features.
“We do not wish to harm you,” I added without actually speaking. “We’ve come in peace.”
“Who… who are you?” she asked.
“I am Unending, and this is Tristan,” my wife replied. “It is an honor to meet you. A joy to see you and your kind have survived for so long. May your lives be filled with kindness, good health, and prosperity.”
The soul fae stood up, both hands clutching the bowl. “We don’t have visitors here. Ever. It’s strange.”
“We wouldn’t have dared to disturb you, but there is something in your village that we need. Something left behind by someone a long time ago,” Unending told her.
“Someone?” the woman asked, a slight frown settled on her delicate oval face. “I told you, no one ever comes around here.”
“He made sure not to be seen,” Unending said. Anunit had telepathically given her an image of the Mixer, so she knew what the object looked like. “Would you be so kind as to take us to your leader? We’d like to have a word.”
The soul fae thought about it for a moment, then looked over her shoulder, noticing how the others had also stopped what they had been doing. All eyes were on us now, and Unending sent out a mental pulse to ease their minds. “Tell me the truth.” The soul fae woman’s voice rang loudly in my head, but it had a secondary, unexpected effect. I could feel her grip on my soul.
Only then did I even remember what these creatures were capable of. Unending gave me a startled look. “Whatever you do, don’t panic,” she murmured.
“Tell me the truth,” the soul fae insisted, the pressure in my chest amplifying until I could no longer breathe.
“We’re looking for the object that the someone I mentioned left here,” I said with my mind. “He left it here, and we need it. I swear that is the truth.”
“Who was your someone, then?” the soul fae asked.
“The Spirit Bender,” Unending replied, unable to fully control herself under the spirit-bending influence. Anunit had been right—these creatures had quite the ability, more than the Spirit Bender, even. Unending was a powerful Reaper, yet this delicate creature was able to at least partially push her. “He hurt me deeply. He hurt the people I love. He caused nothing but harm. Even so, I need that object.”
“What for?”
“To catch a Reaper,” Unending said. It was partially true, in the end, and it seemed to pass the soul fae’s verity test. “To lure her out. She has committed crimes that have led to a command to capture her.”
“It’s our best chance to get what we need,” I added. “I swear to you, we wish no harm to anyone. Just the object.”
Seemingly satisfied with our responses, the soul fae let go, and I felt the cords snapping loose. Her power was impressive and a little terrifying, but I understood why she’d used it on us. We were complete strangers who’d just waltzed into her village, and she and her people knew how to keep their little world safe.
“I’m Sissa,” she said. “I’m the daughter of our king, Loren. I will take you to him.”
“Thank you,” Unending replied.
I couldn’t believe the speed and swiftness with which Sissa had spiritually beaten us into submission. Unending had an exit strategy for whatever the soul fae were willing to throw at us, but for the time being, we cooperated. There was no need for any kind of offense if we could get what we’d come for. From what I was seeing, Sissa seemed open to indulging our request; otherwise, she could’ve simply forced us to walk out of this place. I had a feeling she’d not used the full extent of her power, either. It led me to assume that perhaps it would do some sort of damage to our spirits—or maybe it just wasn’t in her nature to unleash her spirit bending on anyone. As long as we came across as willing and compliant, the soul fae didn’t have reason to doubt us.
I held on to Unending, watching every single soul fae we passed as Sissa guided us to the square building. It didn’t take long to identify it as the king’s residence. A slender man came out, his long white hair caught up in an elegant bun and a crown of nectar orchids adorning his head. He wore a furry coat over his white cotton shirt and pants, giving off a regal yet eclectic feel.
He stepped onto the porch, eyeing us both with concern. Unending reached out to him telepathically before Sissa could introduce us, conveying the same message of peaceful intentions. He didn’t seem impressed, but there was something about his face that I found difficult to read.
“Father, we have guests from the outside world,” Sissa said.
The other soul fae were tempted to gather around his royal residence, but Loren waved them all away. “I urge everyone to go about your business. No need for our lives to stop for this.” He spoke calmly to his people, and they listened, much to my astonishment. Normally, strangers in an isolated village would’ve drawn everybody out, but Loren was remarkably effective in keeping them at bay.
Not that I minded. The last thing we needed was more eyes on us. We had yet to meet Joy, and deep down, I was hoping we wouldn’t cross paths at all. Chances of avoiding her were slim, but hey, a guy could dream. It was only a matter of time, given our incursion into the one space she had been tasked with protecting. Sooner or later, the ancient Reaper would become aware of our presence.
“That is odd,” Loren replied. “You speak directly to my mind. Yet you are not one of us. How can this be?”
“Death magic, Your Majesty,” Unending said. “Though I knew someone like you a long time ago.”
“What is it you want?”
Unending told him the same thing she’d shared with Sissa. The young woman watched us closely, but she didn’t seem threatened or worried anymore. No, now she appeared more intrigued than anything else.
“Do we have such an object in our midst?”
she asked her father after Unending described it to them. “I don’t remember it.”
“What purpose does this Mixer serve?” Loren inquired, looking at us. “What does your targeted Reaper wish to do with it?”
Unending and I exchanged glances. We had to tell the truth. If they so much as caught a whiff of dishonesty, all the soul fae had to do was spirit-bend us into submission. We couldn’t afford to get on their bad side. Fortunately, we’d taken this angle into account since before ever setting foot in the village.
“It is used to combine Reaper objects,” Unending said, trying to be honest without being too specific. The purpose was to circle around the truth in a manner that did not arouse suspicion, and that required some impressive verbal gymnastics. “The Reaper we’re hunting needs it, and like I said, we want to use it in order to lure her out. My master has approved this mission. This Reaper thinks we’re doing her a favor. She doesn’t know the whole truth.”
“And you’re fine with lying to someone like this?” Loren asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I am, because it gets me closer to capturing the Reaper. We have laws. We have orders. It must be done,” Unending said.
“Interesting. We’re normally not appreciative of lying. We cannot really lie to one another,” Loren replied.
“I don’t like it either, but the circumstances demand it,” Unending pressed on. “I believe that we’re doing the right thing, even if the methods don’t seem right.”
Loren thought about it for a while, but he didn’t seem convinced. Sissa was smiling at us. We seemed to have won her over. The king, however, was a more difficult customer. “Surely there are other ways to hunt this Reaper without lying to her,” he said. From what I could tell, the soul fae obviously valued the truth more than anything else.
“Yes. But she’s a slippery one,” Unending replied. “She has eluded Death and the others for a long time. This is our best way forward, I’m afraid. And I understand you cherish the truth above all, but the world beyond your village isn’t like that. I mean no offense when I say that.”
A Shade of Vampire 88: An Isle of Mirrors Page 8