by K T Munson
She was nearly to the edge of town when she saw a flash of white light next to her. To her right, a small creature hopped out of one of the buildings. She took a step back, but realized it was only a rabbit. Nanette frowned at the little white ball of fur as it sniffed along the rubble. She was about to leave when a trap snapped up around it.
The creature suddenly flashed its enormous pointed teeth, and its claws, which were as long as her own fingers, began to thrash at the cage. Nanette’s breath caught in her throat, and she shuffled on her way. It wasn’t long before she could see the city’s gate, which was broken and bent back like a giant had stepped on it. She was nearly through when the rabbit screamed. Covering her ears at the piecing sound, she turned in time to see a deep shadow glide across the wall near the rabbit. Nanette’s scream joined the creature’s before she could stop herself, but she cut it short by slapping a hand over her own mouth. She choked on her own air as the shadow shifted its attention toward her. Nanette spun and half-ran, half-hobbled toward the gate. The injuries in her leg brought tears to her eyes with every step, but she disregarded the pain in her desperation to escape. A broken sob escaped her lips when the rocks shifted under her feet and she fell hard, scraping her knee.
The shadow moved faster than anything she had ever seen as she scrambled up the rubble that blocked the gate. When she reached the top, another shadow fell across her. A figure in black wearing goggles stood above her in a frayed cloak. He was wrapped in tattered clothes with strips of cloth around his mouth. Nanette was paralyzed when she saw him, stuck between him and the horrifying shadow behind her.
The man’s wrist moved slightly, and a sword appeared out of nowhere. At the same time, Nanette felt something wrap around her ankle. Quickly looking down, she saw the shadow was no longer flat. It had taken on the form of a great bull-like creature with a fiery horn and tail. She stomped on it repeatedly, her heart pounding in her ears with panic because she couldn’t seem to make contact with its incorporeal state. When she pushed at it with her hands, they just passed right through.
The bald man jumped over her and landed on the ground to her right with his sword raised. Nanette threw herself to the ground as it swung toward her. It missed. Moments later, she looked on in astonishment as the goggled man moved faster than Nanette could follow and cleaved the creature’s tentacle in two. Somehow, his sword had made contact when she could not.
Shaking off the severed tendril, she scrambled backward away from it. The man pulled his sword free and slowly turned toward her. She stiffened when his eyes rested on her. For the first time, she noticed tattoos covered his bald head. They almost seemed to move as she watched them. He took a step toward her and she twisted away, fearful of the sword in his hand. The man paused and glanced at the sword, and in an instant it vanished. He continued toward her, leaned forward and, astonishingly, put out a hand.
“Please,” she whispered, her voice betraying her fear.
He moved his hand insistently. Nanette sat frozen and fearful for a moment. Again the goggled man shook his hand. She hesitantly reached forward and took it. When her trembling hand slipped into his gloved one, he tightened his hold and tugged her to her feet. She cried out from the sudden weight on her injured leg and teetered, but she was able to keep her balance. Once she was able, he turned away and hurried down the rubble toward the trap. He reached in and pulled the rabbit out by the back of its neck. It started to thrash violently but failed to make any sort of contact with him.
After a moment, it slowed its struggle and yawned. It closed its eyes and once more looked like a harmless rabbit. Nanette sighed in relief. He put the rabbit under his arm and snapped its neck.
The last of her strength drained out of her, and she sunk slowly to her knees. The stones dug into her bones as she toppled over, rolling part way down the rubble. Her vision was blurred, and her injured leg burned. She couldn’t even try to sit up as the edge of her vision darkened. The man ran toward her hastily and pulled up her tattered skirts. The air was cold on her bare legs.
Nanette tried to protest for the sake of her modesty, but it only came out as a muttered string of incoherent sounds. She gave a weak cry of pain when he probed at the wound with his fingers. He put the rabbit into a brown burlap sack before lifting her up and draped her over his shoulders like a scarf or a prize deer, her stomach against the back of his neck.
“Please,” she whispered.
She caught a glance at the pin on his shoulder holding on his tattered cape. It was a pair of intertwined roses, one of them white and the other black. It was her last vision as she began to fade further. Her tongue suddenly felt large as he walked her out of the ruins of the city she had never loved. That was her last thought as she lost consciousness.
Chapter 28: Oran
Elisabeth tapped her foot in annoyance as she looked at the pond. Her assassin was crouched beside it, writing symbols on the ground. Beside her, the Gate Guardian Ruhan looked on in a fretful state while she watched impatiently. He had been doing this for a good fifteen minutes with no results. She wanted to march them over to Ruhan’s home and use the gate. Yet every time she insisted, he refused and said he would figure it out. He was like a determined child who had to have his way.
“What is he doing?” Ruhan asked, having worried the edge of his shirt to deep wrinkles.
“Trying to figure out where in the Netherworld your daughter went,” Elisabeth said, softening her tone as best she could.
“It’s direct,” her assassin said, standing. “We can use the doors inside.”
Ki walked past them into the parliamentary building. He picked up the two traveling sacks and threw both over his shoulder. She hurried after him with Ruhan in tow, irritated further by his behavior. He had absolutely no manners.
“Thank you, Spiritwalker,” Ruhan said, with tears forming in his eyes, “and thank you… I am sorry, who is he?”
He turned back before she could answer. “I am Ki.”
Elisabeth realized then that she hadn’t even known his name. Her cheeks burned from embarrassment. She was entrusting her life—at least on the surface—to a man whose name she hadn’t thought to ask. It was likely that he didn’t know hers either.
He set the packs down and started to draw on a door in the hallway. Why did that door matter, anyway? As he pulled out chalk, she marched up to him and thrust her hand out. “I’m Elisabeth.”
He glanced back, clearly startled. “I know.”
“I am trying to introduce myself properly,” she pointed out, shaking her hand a little. “It is proper for you to shake my hand in accord.”
“You don’t seem to like when I touch you,” he said, sounding confused. Her cheeks burned worse.
“I am entrusting my life to you,” she said, pushing down her worry. If she was going to trick him into entering Morhaven, she needed to make him believe she was on board. “The least I can do is extend my hand to you.”
He considered this a moment, studying her face and then her hand, but in the end he took it. His fingers were surprisingly gentle, and she tried to ignore their warmth and the fact that he was a person. They shook once before he retracted his hand, but continued to stare at her.
Finally, she swallowed and asked, “What is it?”
“No one has shaken my hand before,” he said before turning back to his work. He used the chalk to make strange symbols on the door.
What kind of life had this man led? She studied him and his clothes, seeing that they were old but carefully maintained. The stitching and patchwork were simple, without embellishments. The only companion he seemed to have was the spirit tiger that he couldn’t communicate with. Yet during their brief encounter, Ashley had expressed a quiet affection for Ki.
She was about to inquire into his life when he stopped writing and put his hand on the door. As he whispered, the markings began to glow. When it was done, he reached down and picked up both packs before holding one out to her. “It is time.”
Elisabeth nodded and took the rucksack before turning back to Ruhan. “If she is alive, we will find her.”
“I pray that you do,” he said, and although his old eyes held hope, his entire body was saturated in grief. Even his clothes drooped with it, as if he had just stepped out of a lake.
Elisabeth couldn’t blame him. Nanette would have had to survive a night in the Netherworld, and even Elisabeth worried they were too late. Yet even if the girl was dead, Elisabeth would at least bring Ruhan closure and then get answers from the Det Mor Clan. Not all would be in vain.
Ki opened the door. When she stepped past him into the Netherworld, she felt a sharp tug against the inside of her ribcage. She gasped as Ki stepped in behind her, and time slowed. She could feel her breath in her lungs fill and empty, and every fiber of her body was suddenly aware of the world around her. Her very bones sensed this breezeless place as it swayed out of time. Part of her recognized it and reveled in it—a part of herself that terrified her.
She felt his hand on her arm and started to turn. Every fiber of her being was alive. Suddenly, she began to fall. She was lightheaded, and the world was slowly spinning. Ki caught her arm. Even in slow motion, he moved quickly. Elisabeth rested a hand on his shoulder. Her entire body seemed foreign to her. She couldn’t breathe.
His lips moved, but everything seemed lost to a hurricane of sound within her own mind. His expression was concerned, and he repeated the question with exaggerated enunciation. As Elisabeth listened, her entire world seemed both overwhelmingly bright and completely black.
“Have you fed?” he asked, holding her up.
“I ate,” she whispered, but she instinctively knew that wasn’t what he was talking about. A hunger rose within her that she had always suppressed, a more powerful urge than she’d ever felt before. It brought her to her knees.
Ki started to pull her toward him while she tried fighting him off, but she was no match for him in her weakened state. He turned his head and suddenly pressed his lips to hers. His eyes remained open and so did hers, and instinct kicked in. She opened her mouth and a dead lump of coal within her burst to life as she pressed her palms to his cheeks and began to draw his life force out of him. She could feel it leave his body and fill her, sating the unusual hunger. It flooded her veins, filling her with energy as it ignited a fire in her belly. When she was full, she hit his shoulder and he turned away, breaking the connection. They were left kneeling on the ground, gasping. Elisabeth looked at him, stunned.
“Soul Collectors need life force to survive,” Ki explained as she backed away from him. “Without it, they turn into catatonic statues.”
“They eat souls? I thought they just collected them.” Elisabeth was suddenly disgusted with herself. She put a hand to her throat.
“When they harvest a soul, they keep part of it. Nothing a soul can’t do without,” he said. “It sustains them.”
“It has always been there,” Elisabeth whispered more to herself, “but never like that.”
Elisabeth wanted to throw up, yet her body felt exhilarated. She felt more alive than she ever had without the life force coursing through her veins. Looking around in wonder, she could see the spirit lines, the highway to how spirits traveled as they ran throughout the five planets. She had used them before, but she’d never seen them.
Swallowing her worry and undeniable excitement, she swayed on her feet again. He caught her arm once more as she blinked once to try and clear the haze. Her mind was clouded with light, and she wondered how anyone could call the Netherworld red.
“Be careful,” Ki said, and she tipped her head to look at him. “Your system isn’t used to it.”
Around him spirits danced in a circular motion. His hair and eyes were black, but a light also seemed to shine off him. She could see his wings, white feathers intertwined with black shadowy wings. For a moment he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
Elisabeth was suddenly self-conscious as the memory of their lips meeting rushed back to her mind. She pushed herself off him and turned away, touching her fingers to her lips. Resolved to forget it, she dropped her hand and hardened her emotions.
“Why do they say the Netherworld is red?” Elisabeth asked, changing the subject.
“It is red,” Ki twisted around. As he answered, the spirits that twirled round him hugged tighter against his body. “What do you see?”
“It’s almost like moonlight,” Elisabeth said, looking around. “But a pale purple.”
“Interesting,” he said before reaching into his pack and pulling out an amulet. “Hold this.”
She took it hesitantly, but the moment her fingers touched it, the room they were in turned into rubble and the pale purple hue faded out for a dull red. It was as though the sky was lit by burning embers. The ruins she stood in were exactly like the hallway she had left, only most of the roof was gone and the pale stone walls had cracks running throughout them.
“The sky is burning,” Elisabeth said in a forlorn voice.
“I use the amulet when I want to see the Nether somewhat the way you described,” Ki explained. Elisabeth refocused her attention on him and noticed he looked the same as when they left Oran. “It seems touching it has the opposite effect on you. I always wondered how beings of the Netherworld saw their home.”
She stared at him a moment longer, until his eyebrows furrowed and he looked ready to ask her a question, so she looked down at the amulet. It was mostly an unimpressive piece of rock, with two metal strips connecting along its face. It looked like a chunk of stone, nothing more than coal, but it seemed to shine. The metal was designed in strange fashion—when she looked at the face, it reflected her, but with black eyes.
She nearly dropped it. Unwilling to dwell on what it meant, she asked, “What is it?”
“Volcanic gem,” he answered cryptically. “It makes you see things through everyone else’s eyes.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” She looked up at him in disbelief. “It could be anyone’s eyes.”
“It is a Netherworld Gem. All the rules don’t apply. You can’t rely on logic, not down here,” he replied before picking up his pack again and slinging it over his shoulder as he started walking. “It is time to get going.”
When she put the chain over her head, the rock fell against her chest. “Where are we going?”
“Following this,” Ki said. He held up the charm that Elisabeth had given him with Nanette’s hair intertwined in it.
She glanced back when she heard a clicking noise she recognized—thankful for the red light as it chattered at her. Frowning, Elisabeth turned again, unwilling to meet another Weaver, and followed Ki as they strolled further into the Netherworld.
Chapter 29: Hystera
Kerrigan stared across the desert. They had been walking all day, and the further she went from the village, the better she felt. Whatever was happening in Himota was affecting her more every day. Out here in the hot plains, she took her first relaxed breath in a week.
Beside her, Jinq sat cross-legged on the ground right on the edge of the grass, facing the desert, with his eyes closed. They had come here to try to determine where the darkness originated. Apparently Jinq believed that if he sat between the desert and the village he could access the planet and find out what was happening. According to Jinq, the desert had very little life and was an easy place for a Keeper to commune with Hystera.
Kerrigan wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but Jinq seemed to be serene in everything he did, as he was now. Only when the villagers had denied them entry had he shown any level of frustration. When the villagers had found out that the Seer was not coming, they’d said the Keeper was no longer welcome in Himota.
“Do you feel it?” Jinq asked without opening his eyes.
Kerrigan jumped slightly at his words. She’d thought he might have fallen asleep. Right before she’d spoken, she had been half-tempted to lean forward and wave her hand in front of his face to see if it did anything. Pushin
g that thought aside, she glanced at Hibrius, but his eyes were closed, too, as he lay curled around the elder.
“Feel what?” Kerrigan asked, looking around as though she expected to see something.
“Sit down,” he said.
After a moment she did. “Now what?” she asked, her legs crossed, as she shifted uncomfortably. The ground was hard on her bottom and the sand was uncomfortable.
“Use your connection with Cav to feel Hystera,” Jinq said quietly, with an irritating level of calm.
Pursing her lips, she shot him an annoyed expression before settling in and closing her eyes. She focused on Cav as he slept on her shoulder, trying to use her connection to him to connect to the rest of the world. Nothing happened at first. All she felt was the grass brushing her arms and cheeks. And then she felt the air, with its growing heat, and the soft cooing of Cav as he slept.
“Relax,” Jinq said. Kerrigan fought the urge to growl at him.
After a moment, though, the tension left her, as if the grass itself was gently coaxing it out of her. The dark gloom of the village faded away, and she made another attempt, focusing on the connection with Cav. It wasn’t long before she felt the ground vanish and she was left floating. She could feel the soft caresses of the whole planet against her skin. Like she was in a dream, she could make out Cav as he glowed in front of her. In her mind’s eye, she could see everything. It startled her at first, which almost broke the connection, but she held it by permitting herself to unwind. Never before had anyone told her how to connect to their planet, and now that she was linked with it, she could see its beauty. Its exquisiteness wasn’t a sight to behold but a feeling deep within her soul. A soft smile touched her lips as she felt its warmth and harmony.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered softly.
“You can see it? Good,” Jinq said, his voice as clear as day. “Your spirit is strong.”