Absalom’s Trials

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Absalom’s Trials Page 21

by J. D. L. Rosell


  “Maybe I just missed you.”

  She sniffed delicately. “It’s okay. Using people is in the Catalyst’s job description.”

  “I do honestly wish you could hang around. But you're right — I have something else I have to ask you.”

  “Marrow…”

  “Just a quick question,” I insisted.

  Ava sighed. “Fine. I'll at least hear you out. But no promises, okay?”

  “I couldn't ask more.” I took a deep breath, then took the dive. “Is there any way I can resurrect a god?”

  She didn't react the way I thought she would, but just cocked her head. “I'm not sure there's a way that deities can die. Why do you ask?”

  I considered that for a moment. My deal with Absalom was supposed to enable me to kill the other gods. Had he been lying to me? But then I remembered that Isvalla hadn’t said “kill,” she’d said “commit injury” — which wasn’t the same thing at all. Yet Nali had said she’d killed the Night Sisters. I wasn’t sure whether or not to hope it was true now.

  There was no point in dwelling on it. I explained what I'd witnessed down in the Night Sisters’ lair, and Nali’s claims of killing them. Once I'd finished, Ava nodded with a knowing smile. “She told the truth, in a way. See, the Night Sisters aren't technically alive.”

  “What does it mean to be technically alive?” I asked, bewildered.

  “Never mind that. My point is, the Night Sisters aren't alive — they’re undead — so they can't be killed.” She dropped her gaze. “Kind of like me and the rest of the Specters.”

  I winced. “Right. But…” I didn't want to point it out, but felt I had to. “But you don't have a physical body. That makes a difference, right?”

  She looked up and nodded. “It does. And it kind of means, too, that they're as immortal as it gets, at least in all the ways that count.”

  “Huh.” Who'd have thought a few mangy, demigoddess corpses would be the most resilient things around? “How do I bring them back around into talking capacity?”

  “That's where it gets tricky. The Night Sisters are the kind of liches that thrive on sacrifice. The greater, the better.” She took a deep breath, though I doubted she needed to as a Specter. “Blood is good. A life is better.”

  I balked. Sure, I'd killed people in cold blood in this game. But I wasn't luring somebody to be a sacrificial lamb. “Blood will have to do. Thanks, Ava. You won't get in trouble for this, will you?”

  She shook her head, her hair lagging behind and lazily whipping through the air. “I don't think so. And if I do…” She smiled shyly. “Just call if you need me, okay, Marrow?”

  She started to dematerialize.

  “You're a good friend, Ava,” I blurted before she disappeared.

  She gave me one last smile, then dissipated, leaving nothing more behind than a cloud of cold air.

  I left the inn by the window. Sheika, Farelle, and Sarai were in their own rooms, so I probably could have just left by the front door. But where was the fun in that? Since I had such a high dexterity, I may as well make use of it.

  Vaulting from the roof and doing a flip like Jackie Chan — something I wasn't even sure I could do until that moment, and was grateful the game had my back — I landed on the cobblestones and set off at a jog. Once again, the Night Sisters’ lair was on the other side of the city. How was it always on the other side of the city from me?

  Along the way, I had to do some minor avoidance of some Valyn guards on patrol near the castle. I was happy to get more sneaking practice in. Once we were in Jin’Thal's dungeon, I didn't doubt my life would depend on it.

  It took the better part of an hour, but finally I arrived at the lair. Once again, I went in and waltzed through the obstacles that had once vexed me, avoiding the traps to set off the skeletons rather than fight them though. I was in a rush, and I only had my old equipment at the moment anyway.

  Soon enough, I entered the chamber of the Night Sisters. I edged into it cautiously, remembering all too well the unpleasant surprise I'd suffered last time I'd visited. But no Naiad goddess waited for me this time, only an empty chamber and three empty, upright coffins. The blue flames that had always lit the place had dulled and cast the cavern in a dim light.

  “Okay then,” I muttered, and started rolling up my sleeve before drawing out a knife. Ava had said a blood sacrifice might be enough to bring them back, but I didn't know how much blood this would call for. If worst came to worst, I had Minor Healing as well as health potions to bring me back up to strength.

  I hunted around for an altar of some kind. Coming up short, I decided the sarcophagus of my favorite Sister, the blind one, would have to do. I held my bared arm and knife over the stone and took a deep breath. Even though I knew I could be right as rain in moments, there was something about spilling your own blood that was downright creepy.

  But delaying it wouldn't bring the Night Sisters back. I exhaled, then cut the blade into my skin before doubt could stop me. Blood welled up around the cut immediately, three red streams turning down my arm to trickle onto the stone.

  -1 to Alignment: Moral

  The pain wasn't as bad as I'd made it up to be in my mind, nor nearly as bad as many things I'd undergone in the Everlands. Still, it was uncomfortable to watch it flow out of me and my health steadily dip and do nothing about it.

  More.

  A voice in my head. I recognized the blind Sister, and shivered at her in my thoughts. “You need more?” I said aloud.

  More, she affirmed.

  I took another breath and made another gash. My blood spilled forth anew, and my health fell to 75%. My status remained Minor Bleeding, though. I didn't want to change that.

  More! The Night Sister sounded as eager as a vampire at a blood bank.

  I cringed, but obliged with a third cut, then a fourth, each one deeper. My health fell past 50%, then faster, my condition worsening to Moderate Bleeding.

  All, the demigoddess whispered now, and I blanched.

  “You want me to kill myself?” I asked incredulously.

  It must be all! Or this sacrifice is futile.

  I hesitated, staring at my blood-soaked arm. I was already halfway there. I'd resurrect immediately and could easily come retrieve my stuff. It'd be an inconvenience, nothing more.

  But… I’d be killing myself. Committing suicide, in a sense. It seemed like it crossed a line. But in a place where I could never die, was suicide so different from sacrifice if it served a greater purpose?

  I swallowed, and raised the knife to my throat. Even if I would survive this, I knew what it would mean to Farelle if she found out about this. But even as I thought it, I knew it was no reason not to. I'd done enough bad deeds that she had only to discover any one of them to become disillusioned with me. This was just the worst one to top the cake.

  My health was at 40%. Maybe I could just wait it out and let the bleeding do its work on me. But somehow, that seemed cowardly, almost a way around the act, or at least acknowledging it. No. If I was going to do this, I had to commit.

  Might as well put on a show for my audience. “Night Sisters, here’s my life. You better make it worth it.” Then I pressed the knife into my skin.

  The air before me swirled in black mist, from which a familiar shriveled figure emerged. Startled, I pulled the knife away from my neck.

  “That's enough,” the blind Night Sister said in her crackling voice, dry as a mummy’s wrappings. “In this case, it really was the thought that counts.”

  I lowered the knife. “That's a bit messed up.”

  She shrugged. I half-expected an arm to break off from those thin shoulders. “Immortals have to get their entertainment somehow, eh?”

  “Then go watch a movie or something,” I muttered under my breath.

  “What's that?”

  “Nothing.” I cleared my throat. “Happy as I am to see you, Sister, I brought you back for a reason.”

  The blue glow of her eyes behind her blindfold
flared for a moment. “Well do I know it, Marrow Catalyst. I have been watching you from the nether planes as you've progressed through the God-King’s trials. I must admit, from the very first task I set before you to poison Nali's priest, I did not expect you to succeed. Yet time and again, you have proven more resourceful than I expected.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve had a lot of help. And I think I'm going to need some more now.”

  A ghost of a smile graced the demigoddess’s desiccated lips. “Indeed you will. And for your devotion to my kin and me even after our betrayal, I will grant you two boons. I do not think you will be disappointed with them. Now, come closer — as before, I must touch you to transfer this knowledge.”

  Nervously, I stepped forward. I remembered how penetrating her frigid touch had been the last time. “Maybe I should heal first.”

  The Night Sister snorted. “Leave that to me. Now, brace yourself. This will not be pleasant.”

  Leaving me no time for bracing, the demigoddess reached out and touched a gray, bony finger to my forehead. Instantly, my body was wracked with a blistering cold like I stood naked on a mountain peak in a blizzard. My skin went painfully numb while my insides seized in on themselves in a desperate effort to stay warm. I cried out wordlessly and automatically grabbed at the wrist of the Night Sister only to have my hands burn with that same unholy hoarfrost.

  Then it was over. As the demigoddess withdrew her touch, I folded to the ground like one of those balloon guys they put outside car dealerships, my leaden limbs unable to support me.

  The Night Sister laughed harshly as I twitched, feebly trying to rise on boneless legs. At least my health was refilled and the cuts on my arm healed.

  Then the overlays came, and the knowledge of my new channels with them:

  Shadow Mantle (Lvl 5)

  Affinity: Black

  Faith: Night Sisters

  Cost: 100 spirit

  Effect: Instantly gain invisibility for 5 seconds. During this time, you have 300% increased movement speed.

  Unholy Smite (Lvl 5)

  Affinity: Black

  Faith: Night Sisters

  Cost: 150 spirit

  Effect: After 1 second, channels a column of unholy light that deals 300 damage.

  I stared at the overlays for a long moment. Not only were they my first level 5 channels, but the sheer power packed behind them left me stunned. Combine this with my Everstone and I found it hard to imagine an enemy I couldn't overcome. Even a dragon.

  “Th-thank you,” I said through chattering teeth.

  The blind Sister smirked. “I thought you might enjoy them. Put them to good use, Marrow. And as always… sow chaos.”

  I nodded, then stumbled to my feet and exited the lair, my head spinning.

  27

  He Got the Hoof

  The next morning, as we met down in the main room of the inn for breakfast, no one seemed to have noticed my absence the night before. I had no intentions of informing them of it. I didn't want Farelle asking questions, and I liked the idea of giving Sheika a big surprise for once when I pulled out my fancy new channels.

  No one seemed to notice, that is, except for Sarai.

  The ladies in my party were mostly in good moods — all save Sarai, of course. I'd hoped the priestess would have lightened up by now, but she remained as morose as ever. So I was surprised when she approached me while the other two chatted.

  “And where were you last night?”

  I stared at her, forcing a blank expression. “Where do you think? What, did you come calling at my room? I'm a heavy sleeper.”

  The priestess smirked. “Maybe I did. The point is, I know you weren't in your room. So where were you?”

  I thought fast. Sarai was being compelled by her goddess to assist me at the moment, true enough. But that didn't mean she wouldn't sabotage my relationships with my other party members. If she figured out I'd given a blood sacrifice to the Night Sisters, she might very well tell Farelle out of sheer spite.

  “I was in my room,” I lied casually. “I just sleep so stealthily you couldn't find me.”

  “A heavy, stealthy sleep. An advantageous pairing, that.” Sarai gave me one last dangerous smile, then turned away, leaving me quivering in my boots. I could only hope that ticking bomb would go off after we’d beaten the trial.

  I distracted myself with the hearty breakfast that Sheika purchased with the last of her money, slabs of steak and eggs with sides of stewed potatoes. The feast was so much it could have fed a family of ogres.

  In between big mouthfuls, I fielded Sheika the questions I’d waited too long to ask. “So what exactly is so dangerous about dragons? In the Everlands, I mean.”

  My fellow Everfolk looked particularly like a panther as she looked up at me from her own indulgence. “You mean other than the ironcore-hard scales, their massive size, quick agility, and, I don’t know, fire breath? Geez, I wonder.”

  “They can’t just be normal dragons. I mean, that’d be kind of boring.”

  Sheika rolled her eyes, but it was Sarai who answered. Perhaps emboldened by our earlier conversation, the priestess now seemed more herself, which was to say she’d recovered her razor-sharp sarcasm. “Yes, that would be boring to face all that. Fortunately for you, Catalyst, we’re fighting an elder dragon. They’re an entirely different class of monster.” She leaned forward with a coy smile. “Do you want to know why?”

  I had to hold back my impatience. If we were going to work together, I couldn’t lose my temper now. “I’d appreciate you telling me.”

  Sarai’s smile grew wider. “They have an aura of influence about them that compels those who do not have the requisite presence of mind to do whatever they please.”

  “Like taking thralls and such?” I’d seen that in other games I’d played.

  Sheika nodded. “It’s a combination of White and Black faiths with Mesmer magic. They can cause anything from fear to adoration to fearful adoration. And that doesn’t even address that they can make you see delusions. They can make you relive the worst events of your life or compel you to believe you’re in the immortal gardens of Beyond.”

  “I’m so glad you’re pleased with their handiwork,” I said drily. “Any other unfair weapons in their arsenal?”

  Farelle, who’d been eyeing Sarai darkly for some reason, said, “They’re supposed to be a hundred feet long, aren’t they? And practically unkillable.”

  “They do have over a hundred thousand health as a rule,” Sheika admitted. “They wouldn’t be one of the toughest beasts in the game otherwise.”

  Fear, which had kept to the peripheries of my mind until that moment, fully seized me. Somehow, this felt worse than when I’d faced down a full dome of gods. “Great,” I muttered.

  She grinned and patted me on the back. “Cheer up, Golden Boy. You have me.”

  “I’d better. Or I may as well throw in the towel now.” I sighed. “But what can the rest of us do against Jin’Thal? Does she have, I don’t know, weak spots, or times she’s more vulnerable?”

  “Dragons are nocturnal,” Farelle chimed in. “So approaching in the daytime might be to our advantage.”

  Sheika nodded. “Remember, however, that Jin’Thal is old even for an elder dragon. She’s not likely to be a heavy sleeper.”

  “Too bad geriatric dragons couldn’t be weaker.” A whine had crept into my voice. Clearing my throat, I asked more gruffly, “Anything else?”

  “I suppose I could try to keep her influence at bay for a time,” Sarai offered with reluctance. “It has a limited range, however, and I do not know if it will hold against an elder dragon.”

  “It should,” Sheika assured her. “Lastly, while our armor will help with the fire, you can also counter it with an opposing element.”

  “So ice or water,” I reasoned.

  “Or block it with earth.”

  We were nearing the end of our feast. Since our lizard was more active at night, I wanted to use as much daylight as we could
. “Okay, last question. I have some points to spend. Where do I put them?”

  Sheika leaned back, a smirk stretching across her feline face. “Well, well. You finally asked. And I thought you’d ignore my wisdom until the fickle gods became reasonable.”

  “Yeah, it’s a regular miracle. Now are you going to tell me or what?” I was impatient to get this part over with. I didn’t like the look of confusion on Farelle’s face, or Sarai’s for that matter.

  Sheika raised an eyebrow, but said mildly, “Having taken a look at your stats, it’s clear you’re woefully imbalanced in many respects, not to mention clumsily composed. And that charisma is ridiculous.” She shook her head. “But we can at least partially amend that now. You should heavily invest in fortitude if you’re not going to be a drooling moron the first time Jin’Thal turns her eye on you. Twenty is the minimum. And putting some points in vitality wouldn’t be a bad idea either — you know it helps with defense and how quickly stamina drains, right? Both of those will keep you in a fight longer, and you’re going to need that to whittle away a hundred thousand health points.”

  I scratched at the back of my head. “Yeah, I guess I knew that at some point. You’re right, I’ve kind of been an idiot.”

  Sheika gave me an odd look. I blinked. Was that pride in her smile?

  “Maybe you’ll learn after all,” she said fondly. “Anyway, with the rest, you can keep investing in what you’ve been doing. Strength, agility, belief, and intellect are your best bets, whatever you think you’ll primarily be using for damage.”

  That, at least, was fairly obvious to me considering what I’d acquired the night before. I pushed away from the emptied platters and rose. “Alright, sounds good. But we’d better get on with it for now.”

  Starting off the day with a well-fed boost and my mind in a clutter, we returned to the cursed poop chute and hopped down again. The magic yellow rug caught us, and the welcoming crew rubbed against our legs — except for Sheika’s. As before, she got the hissing treatment and stalked ahead to Esperalda’s workroom with shoulders raised like a cat’s hackles.

 

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