Sister of the Dead

by Barb Hendee

  Magiere couldn't bear looking at anyone in the room. She turned her attention to the vat, and hunger churned inside her.

  The vat's outside was tarnished. Wynn had scraped away dust and grime to reveal engraved symbols, each no larger than a coin, across its entire surface. She had asked Jan for paper and charcoal to make rubbings for later study. At one side of the vat, dark stains ran down it as if the contents had been poured out or had spilled over.

  When Magiere looked inside the vessel, a thicker stain covered the bottom third of its depth, creating a dried and cracked layer. She took the crystal from Wynn, startling the sage, and lowered its light into the vat. The cracked layer in the bottom had a distinctive dark brown color, like liquefied earth dried out. When her hunger stirred again, Magiere knew what it was from instinct more than anything else.

  "They were bled... here, " she whispered.

  When she stood up, she faced the elf's corpse lying in the chamber's front left corner, and she looked down at the dwarf's.

  "Sacrificed, " Wynn whispered.

  "How long ago... " Magiere trailed off and turned to Wynn. "How old are these remains?"

  Wynn looked away, and it took a moment for her to answer.

  "It's impossible to be exact. But from decomposed animals I've studied in the past, I would guess no more than thirty years, perhaps less. "

  The sage backed toward the far side of the room. Her hand shook visibly as she pulled her short robe more securely around herself.

  "So, " Magiere asked in a hard voice. "Twenty-six years would be as good a guess? About the time I was conceived. "

  Leesil came up beside Magiere, glanced once at the vat, and tried to pull her away. Magiere jerked her arm out of his grip-In all, six corpses had been found. One was human with leather armor and a sword, perhaps a guard during the time when her father had been lord of this place—a father who might not be as unknown to Magiere as she'd once thought. Welstiel had posed as an ally during the fight with Miiska's undead, but that conflict, as with the one in Bela, had been of his making. From the beginning, he'd known of her dhampir nature, as well as the falchion and the amulets. In Bela, he'd claimed to be preparing her to assist him in gaining whatever ancient treasure he sought.

  Visions... in Bela, there had also been horrible visions. By accident, she'd stumbled upon another attribute of her dhampir nature—to experience the moment of a kill through an undead's perspective. To lure her to the capital, Welstiel murdered the council chairman's daughter and left the girl's body on her own doorstep. By chance, Magiere had walked in his steps at the death scene while holding a scrap of the girl's dress. She relived that moment, felt the victim's flesh tear in Welstiel's teeth as if she were him.

  How much more would she see with an innocent's bones in her hands? At least she would know if he had been here... if he was the one she'd come here to find.

  Magiere knelt down and wrenched the dwarf's skull from its carcass.

  "What are you doing?" Cadell said, and took a step toward her. "Enough of this. You will not desecrate—"

  "Stop it!" Leesil snapped, and he was on her from behind, grabbing for the skull. "Whatever happened here, you don't want to see it... not like that!"

  Magiere cradled the skull with one arm and snapped her shoulder back into Leesil's chest. She followed with her arm and sent him sprawling. Before he got up, she looked into the skull's sockets, the grit of bone against her bare palms and fingers.

  "No!" Leesil called.

  Magiere closed her eyes.

  Darkness. The sounds of voices around her and quickened breaths behind curses. The stench of the cold chamber filling her head.

  Nothing more, as Magiere opened her eyes again.

  "I'll have no more of this sacrilege, defiling the dead, " Cadell growled, and he stepped threateningly toward Magiere. "Get out of here. "

  Magiere tightened her grip on the skull as she raised her eyes to Cadell. She wasn't going anywhere, not without answers. She rocked back on her heels and stood up. Leesil stepped in front of her, snatching the skull from her hands.

  "Leave, " he told her. "Now. Go back to your aunt's, and wait for me. "

  "Yes, all of you go and leave this to us, " Cadell said.

  Jan looked upset but didn't speak, and Wynn remained quiet at the back of the chamber.

  "We're not done here, " Leesil replied, and returned his attention to Magiere. "Wynn and I will join you shortly, once we've finished examining the bodies. "

  Magiere looked about the room. As she received no vision by touching the dwarf's skull, she didn't believe he died by a vampire's attack. Some part of her felt relief at the thought of escaping this place. She didn't even acknowledge Leesil when she turned and walked out.

  Outside the keep, the two village men paid her little attention as she strode through the courtyard and back down the road. More corpses had been found in her life's wake, yet they'd revealed nothing. One more of the dead still waited.

  IChap had long since ceased battering the shed's door and walls. He spent even longer trying to claw up the rough planks on the floor. Neither approach gained him an escape. Mounted to the hut's side, the shed proved sturdier than it appeared, and he couldn't get his thick claws into the floor cracks. He peered through a crack in the wall and saw that night had come. With time, he could break free, but Magiere and the others had already been gone too long. He had to try another way, and he began to howl in long mournful tones.

  He kept at it as loud as possible, hoping to disturb someone. In a short while, footsteps approached outside, and a woman's stern voice came from beyond the shed's door.

  "Fe leneshte, tu emportun corcheturu!"

  He could not understand her words but reached out to touch her thoughts. Surfacing memories flashed through his mind.

  Magiere arriving in the village.

  The inside of the hut... and an image of himself curled alone in the corner that morning.

  Magiere's relative, Bieja, stood outside the shed's door.

  Chap could not delve into a being's thoughts further than the memories that came to the surface of its mind. All living things remembered their pasts in scant pieces. He could also use these memories to poke and prod an unaware being's choices or actions... nothing more than a mental suggestion.

  The only other way was to dominate the being's spirit, suppress its will, and take control of its body directly. And this he would never do.

  Gently, he recalled for Bieja her memory of him curled silently in the corner as he mixed his howls with piercing whimpers and feeble scratches at the door. Outside, Bieja heaved a deep sigh, her voice filled with resignation.

  "Tot dreptate, tu fe sose... dar you optem comporta tu. "

  Chap heard a scraping sound, and the shed door began to open. When it was wide enough for his head, he bolted.

  The door flew open, a startled Bieja jumped out of his way, and Chap raced off into the night. Her angry shouts followed briefly behind him, but he ran out the side of the village and turned toward the keep.

  Chap kept the road in sight for a guide as he raced through the forest with his senses reaching out into the night. No one passed along the road, and the forest ahead on the slope showed signs of thinning near the crest.

  A door slammed shut, and Chap froze with ears poised as he looked through the trees and toward the keep.

  Magiere came down the road at a steady gait, her cloak loose in disregard of the night's chill. Her pale face was expressionless, all emotion suppressed or turned inward. Chap caught an old memory of a grave in the forest that surfaced in her thoughts once, twice, again and again. Each time, he sensed Magiere recoil from this image, smothering it with other more recent memories.

  In a hidden chamber beneath the keep were secrets and death.

  Chap's panic sharpened.

  Magiere was one step closer to the truth, yet she did not realize it. And he was one step closer to failing—to losing her—and in the end, Leesil, as well.

/>   Chap went wide through the forest to get ahead of Magiere, as he raced back toward the village.

  IChane did not enjoy standing in the woods, in the dark, to keep watch over a decayed keep in the middle of nowhere, but he did not complain. To make matters worse, Welstiel was fixated upon the old structure, lost in thought, and offered little reason why they waited. He did, however, insist Chane never move too far away from him. Whenever they had needed to hide from the dhampir or the dog, Chane had noticed that Welstiel absently touched the brass ring on his finger.

  Chane saw movement coming from the village, and he focused. A flash of silver fur passed through the trees near the road.

  "It's Chap, " Welstiel said. "Magiere's dog is coming. "

  To Chane's surprise, Welstiel reached out and grasped his cloak, pulling him close. "Get down. "

  Chane did not care for the idea, but obeyed. He heard a door slam shut. The rat in his pocket began squirming, so he took it out and let it sit on his shoulder. It wrinkled its whiskers and sniffed at his face.

  Magiere strode out of the keep's courtyard and down the hill toward the village. She looked pale and defeated. The sight of her made Chane's jaw ache. Her smooth skin and black hair drew his full attention. Victims who fought back excited Chane, and no one had ever fought like Magiere. She drew closer and walked right by their position. Welstiel was studying her face as she passed.

  "We should withdraw, " he said. "There is nothing we can do. "

  "Was there something you planned to do?"

  Welstiel ignored his question. "Look at her face. Her search here is over, and there is nothing more for her to seek I suspect she will leave this place in the morning. We should find a place to rest for the day. When we wake tomorrow night, I believe she will finally head north. "

  Chane looked down along the road, but the dog had not joined her. It had disappeared. Welstiel backed into the trees holding tight to Chane's cloak, keeping them close together.

  IWynn completed her rubbings of the vat's symbols. The millweed paper Jan had brought her was too rough for the work, but she made do, her hands shaking as she'd worked the charcoal against the paper. It was unlikely that Cadell would allow them to remain long enough for her to scribe out all the vat's markings, and she did not wish to be here any longer than necessary. Somehow, all of this was connected to Magiere's birth.

  Magiere had been sired by an undead, birthed to be its enemy and predator. That much they knew, but now it seemed that a vampire had committed a blood sacrifice for that purpose. The brass vat was a conjuring vessel of some kind, but its size and the number of victims were baffling. What was truly needed to birth the child of an undead?

  "If you're finished, we should go, " Leesil said as he paced, glancing at an impatient Cadell near the room's entrance. "I don't want to leave Magiere on her own for too long. "

  Wynn had not studied the last two strange remains. Her sage's nature and need for all pieces of the puzzle were greater than her own dread of the answer.

  "Another moment..., " she said. "I need—"

  "Isn't this enough?" asked Jan.

  His charm and attention toward her had waned, and Wynn saw him staring at the tarnished vat and the roll of rubbings she held close.

  "Yes, I think you've got quite enough, " Cadell said. "It is no wonder there have been few masters of this place with such tragedy hidden beneath it. I must report this to the Antes. "

  "Then you're a fool, " Leesil said, swinging his arm in a wide arc, indicating the whole chamber. "Or do you think you'll remain caretaker long after bringing this to their attention?"

  "How can I not?" Cadell asked. "You've unearthed a curse upon us, and I'm at a loss for how it will ever be cleansed. "

  Wynn recoiled at the zupan's words. She felt responsible for placing him in this situation.

  "He is right, Father, " Jan said. "Prince Rodek would send one of his vassals, and even troops perhaps, and you would never regain stewardship of the fief. Your presence is far more important to the people here than some noble servant of the Antes. No, we will keep this to ourselves, and not even our own clan should hear of it. "

  "How is that possible?" Cadell asked, turning his anger on his own son. "Look about you!"

  Jan did so, with one last brief pause at Wynn. "I will see to it, gather and contain the bones. Mother can send word to her people. They will take me into the mountains, so I can lay these remains to final rest where no one will disturb them. "

  Cadell regained composure from his son's words. "All right then, we will do as you say, " he answered, and turned to Leesil. "Now get out, and let us deal with this. "

  "Soon... in a moment, " Leesil answered with forced calm and a frown at Wynn. "Finish, please. "

  Wynn returned to the winged remains among the wooden frame with its shreds of aged canvas. What would Domin Tilswith do if he was faced with these bodies... with these sacrifices? He had sent her on this journey with his deepest trust. She was determined to try to act as he would. There was still something lost in her memories that stirred when she looked at the physical make of this winged body, and, as she knelt with her back to the others, she did something that shamed her.

  She quietly loosened one of its finger bones to secret it in her palm.

  Wynn kept her hands in front of herself, so the others could not see. She lingered long enough to note as much of it as she could for later recounting in her journal, and then she moved on to the fourth and fifth skeletons.

  They had fallen near each other. One lay before an open iron box the height of her leg, and the other near a huge clay urn lashed into a wooden frame, likely for hauling. The urn was as tall as her head, and its side had been smashed in.

  The insides of the iron box had gouges in the metal, visible even beneath the grime and thin coat of rust. The bones of the creature next to it were more disturbing than the winged one. In place of teeth, its jaws had sharpened ridges, and the final bones of its toes and fingers ended in sharp curved points. The creature, locked within the box, had tried to claw its way out.

  All its bones and dried flesh were tarnished with streaks of red grime so thick, it made them look pitch black. Another sense of the familiar stirred in her mind. Keeping her back to the others, she pretended to lean in for a closer examination. Removing a loose toe bone with its claw, she palmed it along with the winged creature's finger.

  The fifth body rested near enough that she did not have to move. Slender but solid of build like the elf, the creature had strange rows of spikes stuck out along the back side of its forearms, from each vertebra of its spine, and along its crested skull. The bones were cream-white and had not yellowed beneath its decayed filth. Its teeth were also ridged, but with regularly spaced points.

  She made a hidden reach for one of the smaller spikes springing from the front of its shin. She took one of these off and added it to her collection.

  Her gaze returned to the spikes on its spine, longer near the upper back but growing shorter toward the tailbone.

  Like the fin of a sea creature.

  Wynn stumbled as she got up and began shaking.

  "We will leave you, zupan, to tend your own..., " Leesil started to say, and then his eyes widened as he looked at Wynn. "We're done. It's all done. There's no need for tears. "

  Jan took a step toward her, suspicion and mistrust washed away with concern.

  Wynn pulled away from him, suddenly afraid to let anyone near her in this place. She had not even been aware of her own tears, only that she could not stop shaking and found but one word for her thoughts.

  "Uirishg!" she said in a whisper tinged with hysteria.

  Her gaze passed over one remains to the next, out of control—elf, dwarf, a creature of the air, one of water, and the other... of fire?

  'Take her out of here, you fool, " Cadell snapped. "This place has driven her beyond wits, as it might do us all. "

  Leesil reached out and steered Wynn toward the entry way. She let herself to be pulle
d along, as her mind did little more than reiterate her earliest lessons in the structure of creation.

  The elements are Spirit, Earth, Water, Air, and Fire...

  Showing states in Essence, Solid, Liquid, Gas, and Energy...

  To manifest as Tree, Mountain, Wind, Wave, and Flame...

  And within the chamber were an elf of the forest, a dwarf of the mountains...

  She did not know the names for the other three. They were so lost back beyond The Forgotten that no one knew them as more than part of the myth of the Uirishg, as the elves called them. The sages translated that word as akin to "Fay-blooded" or "Children of the Fay, " but the word was so old that its literal meaning was uncertain.

  Old recovered texts revealed scant hints of a myth among her lands that humans were the oldest race. In primordial times, they mingled among the first Fay, and their offspring were the beginning of five new races. It was a legend that tried to explain their origin, perhaps with some hidden truth, though the elves of her continent found it little more than an amusing tale.

  It should not become real, not like this... in blood and ritual sacrifice.

  Before Leesil guided her all the way up the stairs, Wynn jerked free and ran the rest of the way to the keep's front doors. When the cold night of the courtyard outside wrapped around her, its numbness sank through to her own bones. She collapsed to her knees on the damp ground, sobbing. There was no sign of the two guards.

  Leesil caught up to her, crouching to take her by the shoulders.

  "Wynn... what did you find?" he asked, and then he saw the three bones in her limp hand. "Oh, for all the dead saints! What have you done?"

  Wynn raised her head to look at him.

  Leesil reached around her to pull up her hood. He closed the short robe's front more securely around her.

  "You have to tell me, " he said. "I don't understand what's wrong. "

  "Uirishg, " she whispered again, and held up the three bones.

  With effort, she told him of the Children of the Fay who were the five forgotten races. Only two, the elves and dwarves, were known to truly exist, and in that it should have all been but a myth. Leesil listened with the bones between them in Wynn's palm, and in the end she saw there was some understanding in his eyes.