Probably he was merely travelling ahead of his brother, and Lazan would soon arrive. That changed things a little, and Konrad made some mental adjustments to his plans.
He said nothing aloud. His hands were so cold he could barely move his fingers, and he did not fancy his chances of making himself understood if he tried to speak through his frozen lips.
You look strange, Eetapi observed.
I imagine I look like a Konrad-shaped block of ice.
Eetapi apparently found this pitiable, for she drifted over and draped herself around Konrad’s neck in a gesture possibly intended to be comforting. Since it felt like an unusually persistent, icy draught wrapping itself around his throat, Konrad failed to fully appreciate it.
Minutes passed. Konrad hushed his chatty serpents and sat in silence, all his senses strained to catch the first signs of approach. He had positioned himself next to the door leading down into the morgue, so he would be close at hand the moment either Favin or Lazan made any attempt upon the gathered lamaeni.
He would not admit that the fluttering sensation he was experiencing somewhere inside was nervousness. He had not been entirely honest with Nanda, which was never advisable, but she would probably have had him committed if he had told her the true extent of his plans.
Any sign of Lazan?
Not that his serpents would know Lazan just to look at him (or his shade), but they were alert to the approach of any lamaeni in spirit form.
None, hissed Ootapi. Favin is almost at the door.
Konrad tensed, his confidence draining away by the second. This wasn’t right. Radinka?
Here, she said, from somewhere behind him. Ready.
Konrad’s Master Plan, Phase One: Permit dispossessed Radinka to utilise his own body in order to dislodge Favin from hers. This done, Radinka would take possession of her undead corpse once more and tada, problem solved. Konrad, meanwhile, would (to use Nanda’s typically forthright turn of phrase) use himself as a prison (live incubation system) within which to store Favin’s spirit until he could be dispatched to The Malykt for judgement.
Konrad’s Master Plan, Phase Two: Somewhere during this process, Lazan would try to possess Konrad himself, in order to use him as a weapon against one of the other lamaeni. Instead of being used to hack holes in Kovalev or Tasha, Konrad would heroically resist Lazan’s attempts to master his will and instead imprison him. After that, both brothers could be delivered to his Master at once.
Simple, no? Effective? Radinka would be restored to herself, Kovalev and the others would be delivered from the threat of renewed attack, and Tasha would be safe. The fact that Konrad would have to juggle not one but two invading spirits without being overcome by either was incidental. Suffering was something he could do, and he was rarely to be beaten for sheer bloody-minded stubbornness (as Nanda frequently told him).
If Lazan didn’t show, well, in some ways that made it easier. He could concentrate on dealing with Favin without having to fend off Lazan at the same time.
But it didn’t make sense to Konrad, and that made him nervous.
He is passing the door, reported Eetapi.
Wait… passing? Passing the door?
Yessss.
He isn’t coming in?
He is not.
Konrad was struck briefly speechless. Just what was going on?
Keep an eye on him, he snapped.
Yes, Master. Eetapi and Ootapi streamed away.
Radinka was nervous, too. He could feel it, a palpable, thrumming tension in the air emanating from a few feet over his left shoulder. What’s happening? she hissed.
I have no idea, but I will find out.
Konrad took a moment to think. What could Favin be doing? Where was Lazan? It seemed that neither brother had acted upon his rumours, which was disappointing and troublesome. Perhaps Favin had discovered some other lamaeni somewhere in Ekamet, and that was where Lazan had gone. In which case, his serpents would soon discover it, but probably not in time for Konrad to do anything about it.
But if that wasn’t it… then what?
He got up and made for the stairs.
Down below, he found a little knot of lamaeni lingering not far from the door. They were almost as visibly tense as Radinka.
He was immediately struck by the inescapable fact that there were only three. Tasha, Kovalev and the woman from the stagecoach.
‘Where is your son?’ Konrad said sharply.
The woman just looked at him. Her eyes were huge and frightened and Konrad began to get a very bad feeling.
‘Gone,’ said Kovalev. ‘Hours ago.’
‘Nobody thought that was worth mentioning to me?!’ Konrad felt like kicking something, and took a moment to master his frustration.
‘His own problem, if he gets attacked again.’ Kovalev was vastly indifferent.
Konrad looked at Tasha. ‘Surely it struck you as odd?’
Tasha shrugged, but she began to look uncertain. ‘He said he’d fought off Lazan once before, he could do it again. I figured it’s his choice. He was still here by repute, and three of us is enough to carry through the plan, right?’
Konrad took three slow, deep breaths, struggling against an impulse to tear out his own hair. When he felt he had himself under control, he pointed a finger at the woman. ‘Has she spoken? At all?’
‘No…’ said Tasha.
‘I am sorry,’ Konrad apologised. ‘I know it is rude to refer to you as she, but we still do not know your name. And that is because you are, temporarily at least, muted. Is that not the case?’
The woman swallowed, and nodded.
‘Let me guess,’ he sighed. ‘The person wearing your son’s body was not him at all.’
A shake of the head.
‘Your son is travelling with you, isn’t he?’
She nodded.
No wonder she was paralysed, mute and frightened. ‘It can be difficult to adjust to the presence of a second soul,’ he commented. ‘Two souls in one body, fighting for control of the vital parts, like for example the speaking apparatus. Difficult for either of you to get a word out at all. But you’ll adjust, or you would if we left you in this state.’
‘So that was Lazan,’ said Tasha. ‘Wearing her son, as you put it.’
‘I assume so.’
Tasha looked at the woman. ‘And you took your son’s expelled spirit into your own body? Why?’
Of course, no reply came. Konrad studied her, feeling appalled but also a little curious, for it was a fair question. Finding her body stolen, Radinka had continued on in spirit form, relatively as normal. Most lamaeni occasionally abandoned their bodies and wandered the world ghost-form. It was probably an uncomfortable experience to do it for too long, particularly under the uncertainty of wondering when, or if, you would ever get your body back again. But it was not in itself remarkable. What had encouraged the poor woman’s son to hitch a ride with his mother? Or what had compelled her to absorb him, if that was what she had done?
‘He was either taking refuge from some lingering threat, or you were protecting him from something,’ Konrad guessed, watching the woman’s face closely.
She opened her mouth, spat out a couple of malformed and incoherent syllables, and settled for a nod of the head instead.
‘Does the threat persist?’
She hesitated, glanced around, and finally shook her head.
‘In that case, he can come forth.’
Nothing happened. The poor woman’s face contorted in clear distress, or perhaps struggle, but she did not manage to speak, and no spirit materialised.
‘He’s stuck. Or petrified. Hmm.’ Konrad pondered. ‘Do we have your permission, madam, to apply a little force?’
A vigorous nod of the head. She was keen to be liberated.
Konrad smiled. ‘Tasha, would you be so kind?’
He did not have to explain. The girl separated from her undead body at once. Her suddenly lifeless corpse fell to the ground with an unpleasant, meaty th
ud, and her spirit materialised in the air above it.
Konrad then had the pleasure of experiencing, for the first time, how it really felt to take another’s spirit into his own body. Excruciatingly painful did not quite cover it. Though, pain was not perhaps the right word, for it was not a physical sensation. It was more a whirl of sheer confusion and mental conflict, impossible, overwhelming. Konrad felt like seventeen people at once, and within half a minute he could barely remember his own name, let alone manage to form words. It was like being squashed into a broom cupboard with about three times as many people as the room had the capacity to accommodate, except that it was happening inside his mind, and he had not the power to leave.
And he had planned to do this with two spirits at once? Nanda was right. He was stark raving mad.
The ordeal did not last long. In the next instant — or so it seemed to him — it was over. The alien presence in his mind was gone, and he was himself again.
A little more time and activity had passed than he was aware of, for before him the beleaguered woman lay stretched upon the floor in an attitude of dazed, pained bewilderment, a bruise darkening upon her jaw. But her eyes had lost their frightened look, and she finally spoke an intelligible word. ‘Ouch.’
‘Tasha,’ Konrad said evenly. ‘Did you punch her in the jaw?’
‘Yes.’
‘I mean, did I punch her in the jaw?’
‘Yes.’
He winced. He was no boxer, but he was not a small man, either, and his punches carried the weight of both experience and not insignificant muscle.
Brutal though Tasha’s approach was, it appeared to have worked, for she could speak again. And there, materialising in the air not far away, was the wavering and visibly enraged spirit of her son. The young man delivered himself of several expletives, uttered in a hissing, unpleasantly penetrating voice which Konrad emphatically did not appreciate. It was like the mental equivalent of having spikes driven into his skull.
‘Stop,’ he ordered, for it was clearly having the same effect upon Tasha and Kovalev. And Radinka, who had tired of waiting upstairs and had drifted down to investigate matters in the morgue.
The young man spat one last curse and fell silent, ending with a whispered and wearied sorry.
‘No matter,’ Konrad said, a little softened. ‘Tell us what possessed you, if you will.’
An unfortunate choice of words. He meant, what possessed you to piggy-back in your poor mother’s head, but under the circumstances, it could have been better phrased.
Besides the problem of Favin, Konrad had some other questions swirling around in his mind. Most importantly: why had Lazan lingered? Having secured his new vehicle, why had he not fled at once? In fact, why had either brother remained in Ekamet, knowing that they had the vengeful spirits of at least two evicted lamaeni to deal with? He waited, hopeful of an answer that would resolve all these questions, and permit him to come up with a new, more workable plan of action.
‘He was trying to eat me,’ said the young man, with a strong shudder.
‘Eat…?’ Konrad echoed faintly.
‘You know how lamaeni feed, I assume? We sup on the living energy of those around us — mortals. Those who have not yet died, in any sense of the term. It’s because we have ceased to produce any such energy of our own. What is to fuel us, without it? How are we to maintain the fractured link between body and soul?
‘But this… thing they have been doing. Putting the wrong spirit into the wrong body. It is unnatural — even for us! Nobody does it, because it’s an atrocity but also because it fundamentally doesn’t work. It can’t be done. Spirit wars with body every waking minute, and I do not think there are any sleeping minutes to be had, because it requires ceaseless application of the will to hold the two together. Will, and as much food as can be had.’
Tasha spoke up, her eyes very wide. ‘Including other lamaeni.’
The man nodded, and shuddered again. ‘It is grotesque. Cannibalism. But it’s like a shot of pure power, an instant boost. Imagine if you were able to consume the… the brainpower of other living souls, to temporarily boost your own cleverness.’
‘I take it the thing is more easily done, with a bodiless soul.’
‘Yes. Lazan knocked me for six and then tried to devour me on the spot. Mother protected me. He was weakened enough by his efforts that we were able to fight him off… or at least to convince him that it was no easy task to take on both of us, what with having a corpse-shell to protect us. We thought he would flee, but he stayed. He told us he would rebuild his strength right here in the morgue, and then pick us off one by one as necessary. He said it was mighty convenient, our being all gathered here together. Laid out like a feast.’
Kovalev’s eyes narrowed. ‘I heard nothing of this.’
‘Why would he tell you, and put you on your guard? It didn’t matter with us. We knew what he was up to, and he knew we couldn’t speak to tell.’
‘I wonder,’ Konrad mused, ‘how long he expected to be able to maintain such an unlifestyle? There are not that many lamaeni around.’
‘More might be made,’ Tasha said. ‘He might still be able to do that, even with a stolen body. If not, the two of them might have allies who are still sound.’
How repellent, and how true. Was that what the two of them were planning? Set up a nice little energy farm somewhere in Ekamet, turning mortals into lamaeni only to devour them afterwards?
Not in his city.
‘Radinka,’ Konrad said. ‘Did Favin try any such thing with you?’
No. But if you ask me, Favin is not very clever. Brute force he’s got to spare, but not so much by way of brain.
That more or less agreed with the impression Konrad had received, during his brief meeting with the man. Lazan was undoubtedly the wilier of the two, the one who would quickly cotton on to the difficulties of his new situation, and hit upon a solution. And he did not lack for strength, either. That made him far more dangerous than his brother.
‘Did Lazan say where he was going?’ he enquired. It was a long shot, but the man appeared to have been unusually chatty.
‘No, and not a word of a clue did he give,’ said the young man.
Typical. ‘My serpents have followed Favin. Hopefully he is on his way to wherever Lazan has gone, and we will find them both soon. In the meantime, will the two of you please tell me your names?’
The lady introduced herself as Faina, her son as Pavel. Konrad made introductions of himself, Tasha, Kovalev and Radinka in return.
‘We need to stop those two,’ he said grimly. ‘If I’m not much mistaken, they will soon begin manufacturing their own dinner, and it is the duty of The Malykt’s Order to get in the way of that. And maybe The Shandrigal’s, too. But we’ll need lamaeni help. May I count on you?’
To Konrad’s satisfaction, he received willing agreement from them all, even those spirit-stuck and vulnerable. The extent of the danger was obvious enough, most like. Not only were they in danger of being dined upon themselves, but the survival of their kind relied upon their existence being kept largely a secret from those they (sparingly) supped upon. Having a pair of rogue lamaeni setting up in the middle of Ekamet, turning living folk undead with or without their consent and making a banquet of them all? Such an operation couldn’t possibly go unnoticed.
‘Right, follow along,’ Konrad said, making for the stairs back up to ground level. ‘We’re going to fetch Nanda.’
Chapter Eight
‘So,’ said Nanda, eyeing Konrad and his entourage from over the rim of her cup of tea. ‘I take it the plan did not work out as intended.’
She was waiting in a tea house not far from The Malykt’s Temple. Seated by herself at a tiny table in one corner, a pot of tea set before her and a cup in her hands, she made a fine picture of tranquillity. Weveroth sat at her elbow, nibbling upon a biscuit. Konrad took in this peaceful vision with a sense of gratitude, for some little part of his tension eased.
‘To
tal failure,’ he replied, and added with a faint smile, ‘Highly unusual, I know.’ He relayed the morning’s events as quickly as he could, part of his mind on the alert for the return of either of his serpents. That they were taking so long about it troubled him, for it meant either that the brothers were gone far, or that something had gone wrong.
Nanda heard him out with her usual cool composure, one lifted eyebrow the only hint as to her opinion of Konrad’s plan and its outcome. When he had finished, she cast a swift look over Kovalev, Tasha and Faina, and stood up. ‘I had better muster my Order.’
This she apparently did by way of Weveroth, for she wrote something upon a slip of paper, handed it to the little gold-furred monkey and whispered something in his ear. Weveroth bounded straight off the table and galloped out of the tea house, followed by the variously startled and intrigued looks of the tea house’s customers.
Konrad had already dispatched word to his own Order. He needed Diana Valentina, whose calm competency rivalled Nanda’s. And he needed The Shandrigal’s people, too, for the lamaeni dwelt in some confused realm in between those two polar opposites of Life and Death, and he could not say whose powers were best fitted to deal with the unusual threat posed by Favin and Lazan.
Eetapi’s mind touched his. She was distant still, but closing fast upon the tea room. He pictured her lithe, incorporeal serpent self, streaming through the snow-drenched skies with as much speed as she could muster.
Eetapi, what news?
They are near the north gate, Master.
They!
The brothers are reunited. They are out in the Bones, and they have taken seven people.
Living or undead?
Living, for the present. They also have one other lamaeni with them.
All of which confirmed Konrad’s worst fears clearly enough.
Konrad relayed this. ‘We go, now,’ he concluded. ‘Tasha, Kovalev, Faina. I need you to disable Favin as quickly as possible, by whatever means possible. Radinka, Pavel, I fear you are in danger if you accompany us—’
You cannot leave me behind! Radinka objected. That’s my body he’s using!
Death's Avenger Page 8