The Allseer Trilogy

by Kaitlyn Rouhier

  He panicked, thought about trying to roll her away, and then resigned himself to his fate. She looked too peaceful to disturb. They had a long journey ahead and his conflicting emotions on the matter would have to wait. All he could do was relax and let himself drift back to sleep.

  His thoughts wandered, hovering in that space between wakefulness and the hazy drifting of dreams. In his mind, they stood before the walls of Val’shar, the city a great behemoth rising beyond. There was a flood of people coming in and out, a pool of unknowable faces and too much noise. There were a hundred scents mingling together; perfume and leather, hay and smoke, citrus and the salt of the sea. Had he seen the sea? Could he know the scent of it?

  The dreamscape shifted. Smoke filled his vision, his nose, and his lungs. Acrid and bitter, it coated his mouth and tongue. He coughed but only seemed to inhale more of it. All around him was fire and screaming, faceless Seekers chasing down the gifted with flame. The smoke swirled, becoming ashen hair and storm colored eyes. Fearful eyes. He could feel her using her powers, her mind beating against his own. Someone grabbed her, a blurred face in black robes. She shouldn’t have been using her powers. Now they knew.

  His stomach plummeted like a stone. He knew what they’d do to her. Torture and death. Always the same, every story he heard. Flames licked at the edges of his dream and he was running, trying to find her in a city too big for one. He was a rat in a maze, towering buildings leering down at him and complicating his path.

  His steps were unsure, his path uncertain. He pushed through the crowds, each person he touched disintegrating into black smoke. It swirled around him, following like a flock of ravens. At the center of the square, Kirheen stood on a wooden platform, a length of rope wrapped around her neck. She looked at him with sad eyes, her lips forming an apology he didn’t want to hear. A gloved hand pulled a handle, a rope slipped, grew taut. Her feet dangled in the air and his eyes burned with fire.

  He was left alone in the square and it morphed and changed. Thick, gelatinous corruption stained the buildings and dripped from the walls like sweat oozing from pores. The ground beneath his feet became slick and the corruption clung to his boots as he walked. The sky above was tinged crimson, the moon shining red through darkened clouds.

  He lost his footing and fell forward, barely catching himself with his hands. He was buried up to his wrists in sludge and it pulled him forward, pulled him until he was mere inches away from the noxious substance. It reflected his face. No. Not his. Fenir. His brother stared back at him, angry and indifferent to his suffering.

  “Liar,” he whispered. “Fool. Betrayer. Pay the price.”

  The corruption consumed him, filling his mouth and throat and lungs. His vision blurred and there was only darkness, terrifying and devoid of sound, devoid of light. This is how the world ends.

  The world shifted and he was startled awake, his eyes opening to see a stormy sea staring back at him. Her lips were parted, a question hovering in the space between them. “Are you okay?” she whispered. Her hand was on his arm and she gave him a gentle squeeze. “Tomias?”

  Sitting up, he ran his hands over his face. He tried to bring his thoughts in line, to separate the dream from reality. It was harder than he wanted to admit. “I’m okay, Kir. Just another dream.”

  He tried to think of her sleeping in the crook of his arm, her face peaceful, but in his mind he could see her swaying, her feet hovering in the air, face tinged blue.

  Val’shar.

  City of whispers.

  City of death.

  CHAPTER 7

  Tomias was unusually quiet, his eyes distant and fearful. He’d had a bad dream, another nightmare tearing at the fabric of his reality. It was nothing unusual but, unlike his other nightmares, this one he refused to speak of. When Kirheen prodded him for details, he gently reassured her that all was well. But it wasn’t. He seemed to hover just outside her peripheral, always close, always within reach. She just wished he’d tell her why.

  He helped her pack up their supplies and tidy up the room before heading downstairs. As soon as he caught sight of them, Fern motioned them to the bar, offering up a plate of thick, crusty bread and slabs of sweet pork covered in gravy. “Eat well,” he said, his thick arms crossing over his chest. “You’ll be in the swamps today and the stench of that place will drive away even the most ferocious of appetites. You get enough rest?”

  Kirheen nodded and waited for Tomias to respond. When he failed to answer, she glanced over. He was lost in thought, his eyes boring holes through the polished bar top. She nudged him with an elbow and he gave a start, flashing an apologetic smile. “Yes? Sorry, I was…elsewhere.”

  “Don’t go drifting too far now,” Fern said, his voice stern. There was something in his tone that belayed some hidden knowledge, a silent warning that Kirheen tucked away. “If you truly intend on leaving, I suggest you be off as soon as you’re able. You don’t want to get stuck in that swamp come nightfall. Your horses are fed and well rested whenever you’re ready.”

  “Thank you, Fern. You’ve been too kind,” Tomias said. He reached for his coin pouch and procured a few copper pieces, sliding them across the bar. “For the meal, and a little extra for the service.”

  Fern went to argue but Kirheen smiled and he took the coins reluctantly. “It’s appreciated,” he said. “Wife gets mad when I start fattening up the guests for free. A money maker, that one.”

  “Sounds like a smart woman,” Tomias said.

  “She is. Now if I could just get her to settle down, but I guess someone has to keep this place open. I fear for her though. Things aren’t the same out there. I worry one of these days she just won’t come back at all. Not like it concerns you though. Don’t listen to me babble.” He pocketed the coins and disappeared around the corner, his brow creased with worry and sadness.

  Kirheen ate what she could while Tomias merely picked at his food, his eyes glazed over. His quiet demeanor was unsettling and it was starting to get to her. She set down the bread she’d been prepared to eat and grabbed his arm. “Tomias?”

  Her voice broke through and he looked over, giving another apologetic smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

  “You don’t have to apologize. I just… Are you sure you’re okay?”

  He nodded his head. “I’ll be fine. I just feel out of sorts today. I’ll feel better once we’re back on the road.”

  Kirheen didn’t press further, but she knew he was holding something back. Before she could ask him anything else, Fern appeared to clear away their plates. Tomias stood, slinging his pack over his shoulder and Fern led them to the door.

  Before they stepped outside, Fern grabbed them both by the shoulder and gave them a gentle squeeze. “Stay safe out there, you two. I expect you to stop in next time you see your uncle, got it?”

  “We will. Thank you for everything,” Kirheen said. Fern nodded, patting them on the back and shooing them out the door. She stepped out into the morning light, basking in the warmth of it. They made their way to the barn and as promised, Davin had the horses ready. They gleamed, their coats brushed thoroughly.

  “Here they are. Good horses you have,” he said with a cheerful grin.

  Tomias nodded. “They look great. You did well.” The boy beamed, handing the reins over. Kirheen loaded the packs back on the horses and slipped the boy a few copper pieces for the work he’d done. He thanked her and pocketed the money, gave the horses an affectionate pat, and waved them on.

  Kirheen gave them a final wave as they set off on the road and felt her mood darken. There was a thought, both bleak and depressing, that it might be the last time she saw them, that they might never step foot in that corner of the world ever again. She shook away the thought and tried to focus on the road ahead, on that undeniable lure in her heart dragging her towards their destination.

  The forest thinned as they pressed on, giving way to moss covered rocks and low lying shrubs. By midday the air chan
ged, humidity making her clothes stick to her skin. The path grew narrow, barely wide enough for a cart to navigate. Trees, their branches nearly touching the ground, over took the scenery. She could smell water close, but it was a cloying smell; rotting fish and mold.

  Tomias looked uncomfortable. Strands of white hair stuck to his forehead, his face pinched in an attempt to hold back the smell that closed in around them like fog. They dropped lower into the swamp and the horses snorted, shifting with quick, uneasy steps. Kirheen tried to calm Benny, stroking his mane and the tightly bound muscles of his neck.

  The light dimmed, vines and trees blocking out the sun. The swamp was a dark place, an ancient place, and it seemed to vibrate with a dreadful energy. The path through the swamp was a simple dirt path with rickety wooden bridges crossing over dark water. In places, the path became muddy and the horse’s hooves made great slurping sounds as they plodded through the muck.

  Small winged insects buzzed incessantly around her ears and she swatted at them, annoyed by the constant assault on her senses. And it only grew worse as they moved deeper into the swamp. The smell was vile and Kirheen found it hard to breathe, her lungs desperately thirsty for clean air.

  The pools of water to either side of the path were murky and unmoving, more sludge than liquid. Plants burst to life through pockets in the muddy depths, their leaves and stems shades of putrid purple and green.

  Kirheen could feel the food roiling in her stomach and her throat tightened. She took a slow, steady breath, hoping not to lose her breakfast over the side of her horse.

  Tomias stifled a cough. “Ugh, I’m glad I didn’t eat much,” he choked, pulling his shirt up over his nose.

  Kirheen did the same but it barely helped keep the stench at bay. She peered into the distance, relieved to see the path was clear in the milky blue-green light. Despite not seeing anyone, she kept feeling the urge to twist in her saddle, sure she’d find someone following in their wake. The feeling settled over her skin, as real and tangible as the sweat that coated her, and only grew worse as they pressed deeper into the swamps embrace.

  A nagging sensation worked its way through her skull, a buzzing filling her ears. Mosquitos hovered, tracing lazy circles around her head. She could hear them as they passed, a hungry hum as they searched for exposed skin. The buzzing beyond them was different. It was deeper and darker, reverberating through her body, slipping through her skin soft as a sigh and flowing in time with the beat of her heart.

  Her pulse quickened and she licked her lips nervously. She felt woozy and she gripped the horn of her saddle tighter, afraid she might fall from her horse. It was a familiar sensation, yet different from what she remembered. She turned her eyes towards Tomias, and her heart leapt into her throat.

  He was sitting erect, his eyes staring straight ahead. He seemed to be listening for something, straining to pick up the whisper that only they could hear. He turned his head slowly, his eyes meeting hers. He said nothing. He didn’t need to.

  For the first time in over a month, Kirheen reached out with her mind. Using her powers was like slipping beneath a favorite blanket and she relished in the sensation, the protection it granted. “Tomias, this feels like the cave again. That buzzing…”

  He nodded his head slowly. “I know. I don’t like it at all,” he said, lending his own powers to help create a barrier between them and the sound. “But I also don’t like using our powers like this. We’re lit up like a beacon out here.”

  Kirheen frowned. “And if we don’t use them our brains are likely to melt out of our ears. I’ll take my chances against someone sensing our powers, but I don’t want to let whatever that is inside my head.”

  “Just keep your eyes open and be prepared to drop your guard if it’s needed.”

  The thought of lowering her guard, of letting her mind open to that sound, to let it fill her head with twisted thoughts and shadows, made her shudder. She wondered if it was Akra, or something like her, that strange talking stone edifice. She’d spoken in shattered whispers, fragments of thought that made little sense but spoke of a simple truth. She knew of their kind, of the powers they possessed. She’d warned them of the outside world, of the conflict beyond the walls. But she’d also tried to harm them, tried to keep them in her web. She’d toyed with their emotions and fears and Kirheen wasn’t about to face that again.

  A foreign power slithered over their combined barrier, shadowy fingers seeking entry. The low hum vibrated against her consciousness, caressing the outskirts of her mind, drawing her towards it. Beyond the barrier, Kirheen knew the truth, the sheer power behind that sound. Once it found a way through, it took over the senses, drowning out any logical thought and giving way to madness.

  Her thoughts wondered. How many had lost themselves in the swamp, had gone mad because of that sound? How many had tried to drown it away in those putrid depths? Her guard slipped and the tendrils attempted to sneak through the cracks, whispering as it tried to creep into her mind.

  “Careful,” Tomias said, bolstering her walls. It took several blinks to realize the scenery had changed. The swamp had grown even darker. Trees crowded and pushed against each other, fighting for what little light filtered through their thick branches.

  As they moved deeper into the swamp, the endless singing of that mysterious power ebbed and flowed, growing quiet and giving the swamp its own heartbeat while at other times it grew so loud that it drowned out the noises of the swamp entirely. The horses snorted restlessly, their ears shifting as they sought the source of the sound. They could sense it too, somewhere out in the dark.

  Pillars of white stone jutted out from the swamp seemingly at random, looking like jagged, broken teeth ready to devour them. Thin lines were carved into the stone, strange symbols that held little meaning. They glowed in the dim light, marking the path through the dense canopy of trees.

  As they continued through the swamp, the stone pillars grew more numerous. The buzzing power swelled, amplified by the bone-like protrusions. Further ahead, the path widened into a large circle. A great stone pillar, thick as a tree, dominated the center of the clearing, piercing the night with a gentle glow. Smaller pillars, some shattered and broken, edged the outside of the circle.

  She hadn’t thought it possible, but the pulsating noise in her head grew louder. Her stomach protested and she swayed unsteadily in her saddle. She clung to Benny, fingers seeking his mane as she leaned forward, trying to keep the world from spinning out of control.

  In her blurred vision, a man hovered at the edge of the circle. He was leaning against one of the stone pillars, casually eating an apple with seemingly little care for the thrum of immense power radiating around him. He tossed his apple aside as they approached, wiped his hands on his shirt, and raised a hand. He smiled wide, a mouth full of white teeth flashing in the dark.

  Not now. Please, not now. Kirheen struggled to stay upright. Tomias seemed to be faring better, but she could see his clenched jaw, could feel him struggling to keep the barrier between them and the noise intact.

  “Hey travelers,” the man said, his voice friendly and sticky-sweet as honey. “Passing through?”

  Tomias met his gaze and managed to keep his voice level. “Just passing through,” he confirmed, coaxing his horse forward a step.

  “That’s for the best, especially at this hour. This place is dangerous at night. Downright unpleasant. Your girl okay? She’s not looking so good.”

  Kirheen tried to look at him but he swam in her vision. She could feel sweat dripping down her neck, could feel her chest labor for breath. “I’m fine,” she managed to huff out, regretting the effort it took just to talk.

  “This place’ll do that to some folk,” he said, his eyes boring into her. He gave another smile that was all teeth and she shuddered. There was something off about the way he said it, as if he knew a secret they’d conveniently not been told about. “If you need to stop, I’ve got supplies,” he said, his voice dripping with fake pleasantries.
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  Tomias coaxed his horse forward and to the side, attempting to step around the man. “As I said, we’re just passing through. We’ll be going now.”

  Kirheen urged her horse forward. At first, she thought the man would simply leave them be, but his hand shot out, wrapping around her ankle with a forceful grip Her horse shimmied to the side, pulling the man with them but he wouldn’t let go. Kirheen watched as Tomias pulled up on the reins, forcing his horse back a few steps as two other men stepped out from behind the large central pillar. One was tall and rail thin, a stout spiked club gripped in his hand. The other was of average height, his stringy black hair hanging over strikingly blue eyes. A knife glinted in the light of the pillars and Kirheen tried to kick away from the man holding her.

  Instead, he took advantage of her unsteadiness and yanked hard. She clung desperately to the saddle but her slick hands slipped across the leather. She struck the ground, the breath forced from her lungs. Her vision blurred and she wheezed as she scrambled away from the bandit hovering over her. A hazy shape hurtled towards her face and she rolled under Benny, hoping the horse wouldn’t crush her beneath his hooves. The boot that would have collided with her head missed her by a hair and she felt the air quiver in the scant space between them.

  She heard Tomias shout, heard his horse whinny with fright. Events were a blur. Defending herself from the overwhelming power surging around them was taking her focus and she couldn’t release her power enough without letting that agonizing sound into her head. Coming to her feet on the other side of Benny, she came face to face with the blue-eyed demon. The knife flashed in his hand and for a moment, his face took the form of Fenir. She froze, unable to move or scream or defend herself from the man that had died so that she could live.