Sister of the Dead

by Barb Hendee

  "Yes..., " she answered, her voice heavy with effort. "I can see. "

  Leesil's radiance blurred ever so slightly.

  Wynn sat upright, though her stomach lurched. She looked about the forest and at the town ahead along the inland road. Nothing changed.

  Then she saw it again. A perceptible shift in the glimmering mist. It moved.

  "It... He is coming, " she rasped.

  "Where?" Magiere demanded from behind her.

  Wynn looked bom ways, along the town's landward side and through the trees, trying to discern the mist's flow. It was slowly building momentum. Its currents aligned, moving in the same direction.

  'To the east, " she said, and heard Chap's low snarl in answer. "In the trees back beyond the town. "

  "Leesil, cut through the town, and try to get past him, " Magiere said. "Chap and I will draw him back toward the road and try to ambush him this side of the bridge. We'll at least keep him off balance until you come up from behind. Wynn, stay behind Chap and me, and keep out of sight if possible. "

  Wynn reached for the dark shape of her crossbow.

  The mist's currents in the earth changed before her eyes. Still heading east, they paralleled the riverside road through town.

  "Wait, " she blurted out. "I think... think he moved on to the main road. "

  Leesil hissed under his breath. "Valhachkasej' a! He's walking straight into town. All right, same as before, but I'll head east through the woods and backtrack toward him. Try to keep him occupied. "

  Wynn watched Leesil snuff his torch and take off into the trees. His own glow mingled in the forest's web of essence, and then he was gone.

  "That's enough, Wynn, " Magiere said. "We know where he is. Come on. "

  Wynn arose and stepped from the circle.

  The world remained a distorted overlay of the ghostly and solid slurred across each other. It should have ended the moment she stepped free of the symbols scratched in the earth, but it did not.

  Her vertigo sharpened. She crumpled to her knees again and vomited up her supper.

  Two hands grabbed Wynn's shoulders from behind, holding her upright.

  "What's wrong?" Magiere said.

  "It should have stopped, " Wynn gagged out. "I cannot... make it stop. "

  "Close your eyes, " Magiere said. "Don't look at anything. But we have to go, now!"

  Wynn was jerked around before she could close her eyes.

  Trails of radiance flowed through Magiere, as in Leesil, yet without his strange brilliance.

  And tangled as well within Magiere's essence were lines of shadow, like those of the dying tree. Ribbons of black wove through her glimmering blue-white essence, and...

  They moved.

  Wynn saw her hands clasped on Magiere's forearm and saw the glow from her own essence—her spirit—creeping toward Magiere's flesh. She lifted her gaze upward, but did not find the amber sparks of light she had seen in Leesil.

  Magiere's eyes were pits of darkness.

  IWelstiel sat up without disorientation that night. For once, he had no dreams, no momentary lapse trying to remember the previous dawn. Chane had procured a large piece of heavy canvas and, as sunrise approached, found a dense copse. He hid the horses and rigged an enclosed tent, which he covered in branches until it blended with the land.

  "My father taught me, " he explained. "When hunting, we often slept outside. "

  Upon waking, Welstiel heard the soft sounds of creaking leather outside the tent and assumed Chane was saddling their horses for the night's travel. In spite of peaceful rest, Welstiel could not escape the memories evoked by the sight of his father's keep and all that happened mere. He sat in the makeshift tent, torn between relief for a moment's solitude and wanting some distraction to pull his thoughts from the past.

  "Are you awake?" Chane asked from outside.

  Welstiel twitched. "Yes. I'll be with you in a moment. "

  He closed his eyes and tried to clear his thoughts, but his frustration over Magiere's mysterious path wouldn't fade. This was the fourth nightfall since leaving Chemestuk, and still she traveled east.

  He pulled the brass plate from his pack and placed it on the ground with its domed bottom surface facing up. Murmuring soft words, he cut the stub of his little finger and let a drop of his black fluids strike the dome's center. It clung there for a moment then shifted slightly across the surface to the east. Welstiel roughly wiped the plate clean and repeated the act, but the result was the same, so he tucked the plate away and crawled from the tent.

  Chane stood waiting with the horses.

  "Is there a village nearby?" Welstiel asked. "Have you checked the area at all?"

  "There is smoke rising east of us, " Chane answered. "Since the dhampir travels upriver, I assumed that's where we would head next. What is wrong?"

  "I'm not certain, " he answered. "I think she has stopped again and not far off. "

  Chane frowned but mounted up, waiting for Welstiel, and the two moved off through the forest. It was not long before Welstiel noticed the first dead tree—and then another.

  They emerged to see a settlement next to the river almost large enough for a town. The main road ran directly through it. Fading smoke rose from shops at the near end, as well as from a few other chimneys up the way... too few chimneys for this cold time of year.

  Welstiel looked back over his shoulder. In the distance down the road, the forest was lush.

  Chane's horse stumbled and wheezed.

  "Can you feel it?" he asked, and the tall undead slid from his saddle, clutching his mount by the bridle. "Whatever is happening here, it's affecting the horses. "

  Before Welstiel could answer, a familiar sound carried down the road—the eerily drawn-out howl of a dog.

  "They are here, " Welstiel said. "On a hunt. "

  Chane was already back up on his horse, urging it forward.

  IMagiere suppressed the urge to charge from around the shop's corner where she hid. She peeked out to see the lone figure walk steadily down the center of the main road. Leesil needed time to circle around behind their target, and she hoped to get in at least one strike before Vordana could act. She had dragged Wynn behind a water trough across the way, and Chap waited there, too. Wynn was still sickened from what she'd done to herself to spot Vordana's approach, but Magiere could do nothing for her at present. She told Chap to hold until she emerged to face what came, and the dog grunted once in agreement.

  Hunger grew in Magiere's stomach, but it was different from before, wrapped around a cold core rather than heated rage rising into her head. She let it seep out until her night sight expanded and the approaching figure became clear.

  Grayed, emaciated flesh stretched over the bones of his face and hands, and filthy white hair hung in mats out the sides of his cowl. The front of his white shirt beneath the soiled umber robe was stained dark by old blood. There was no sign of the brass vial Stefan had mentioned in his tale.

  Magiere grew wary and uncertain. Among her fights with the undead, this was the first time one walked into the open with no concern for revealing itself. Falchion in one hand, she held her torch back and low behind her. The tripod braziers at the town's crossroads provided enough light that the torch shouldn't give her away.

  She peered farther up the road to the town's east end, but she saw no sign of Leesil. Whether he was there yet or not, Vordana was only a building's length away. She leaned back, counted five more of his steps, and spun out from hiding.

  Chap's savage wail cut the silence.

  Vordana turned toward the sound, and Magiere swung her blade at his throat. Without a glance back, he stepped away, and the blade tip passed in front of him. Magiere swung the torch around at his midsection, and Vordana was forced to retreat again.

  Up close, his eyes were filmy and clouded in sunken sockets. He glared back at her and raised a hand.

  Chap dashed out and leaped, snapping at the outstretched arm. Vordana jerked his hand back, and the dog landed
to wheel back to the left. Magiere inched forward on the right.

  "Stay wide!" she shouted to Chap. "Don't let him face us both at the same time. "

  Behind Vordana, a flicker along the rooftops caught Magiere's eye for an instant. It had to be Leesil closing in.

  She rushed Vordana, swinging falchion and torch in wide arcs to drive him toward the right side of the road. Chap stayed left, but he was a snarling mass of jowls and teeth. Magiere didn't know how long the dog would hold off.

  A shape dropped from the dark above. Though Magiere knew it was Leesil, the image slowed her for an instant.

  Both blades drawn and arms outstretched for balance, he leaped from the roof's edge like a steel-winged bird, one leg drawn up. As his extended foot hit the ground, both blades arched forward at Vordana's back.

  Again, the walking corpse shifted instantly out of reach.

  Leesil's blades bit the earth as momentum brought him into a crouch. His crossbow hung over his back, and the topaz hanging about his neck glowed brightly. Chap ceased wailing and dashed in from Vordana's left, snapping at the sorcerer. A flinch of uncertainty passed through Magiere. Vordana used something beyond sight to follow their movements. Then anger set in, and her night vision sharpened.

  This was just another undead. Strength flooded through her limbs on a wave of hunger.

  Vordana's dead face turned toward her.

  Magiere felt a sharp ache in her body, as if something were being torn from her insides. A rush of fatigue followed the pain. She shook herself, clinging to her hunger, and the sensation vanished.

  Vordana's filmy eyes widened. He sidestepped another snapping lunge from Chap, but his gaze never left Magiere.

  You... you are what we've been waiting for?

  Magiere heard his words though his lips never moved. She swung the torch at his face.

  Leesil spun in his crouch and kicked at the undead's legs, trying to knock him off balance. As Vordana hopped clear, Leesil rose up, driving a punching blade toward Vordana's throat. The creature twisted away, and the blade's tip snagged and tore through the side of his cowl.

  Vordana's head cocked to the side like a dead owl, inspecting Magiere with startled interest.

  All this time, watching... and this is how we find you again. You've come home to us!

  He grinned, yellowed uneven teeth jutting from receding gums.

  Magiere stood her ground. Who had been watching for her? Was she what Vordana spoke of when he'd told Stefan he could keep his watch behind a puppet?

  Vordana's gaze shifted toward Leesil.

  Leesil gasped, staggering to one knee, and Magiere saw a shudder run through his body. He tried to strike out with a blade but only fell to his knees.

  Magiere charged in, but Chap got there first, slamming into Vordana's legs and knocking him off his feet. The dog scrambled around, snapping for his face. The undead raised his arm in defense, and Chap's sharp teeth bit into the dead flesh. He began thrashing his head to tear it.

  Magiere stepped in to aid Chap. Vordana snatched Chap's rear leg, and with the dog's jaws still on his arm, heaved Chap at her.

  All she could do was swing the falchion and the torch out of the way as Chap crashed into her. They fell back together in a tumbling mass. As they rolled apart, Vordana stepped toward Leesil's crumpled form.

  Fear for Leesil washed away Magiere's rage, and she rushed in front of him as Chap charged straight for the sorcerer. Vordana stopped short, backstepped, and both his hands came up with fingers crooked.

  Magiere's head filled with humming words she couldn't understand. Vordana's whole intent was fixed on Chap. Magiere thought she saw a spark flash in the undead's eyes.

  Chap skidded to a stop, turning about to stare up and down the street. He whimpered. As he ran back and forth across the road, the whimper grew into a snarl.

  "Chap, get back!" Magiere shouted.

  The dog didn't seem to hear her. He spun around, eyes glaring at nothing in the spaces between the buildings. With a mournful howl, Chap took off down the inland road toward the manor.

  For an instant, Magiere froze in shock, then she rushed Vordana, slashing with the falchion.

  He dodged, but this time alarm flashed over his face. Magiere followed with the torch, hoping to light his cloak on fire, but again, he managed to duck and back away.

  Your elf is nearly gone, but he'll sustain me for a long while.

  Magiere flinched and glanced back toward Leesil. He was getting to his feet, no longer as stricken as he'd been just moments ago.

  She realized her mistake. When she whirled back, it was too late. Vordana had both of them in his sight line.

  A tingle crawled over Magiere's skin. She didn't understand the chant that echoed through her skull, but it fed an emotion into her flesh and bones that made the world fade.

  Fear.

  IWynn stood up on shaky legs, struggling with the crossbow, still dizzy with the blue-white mist that permeated everything she saw. Chap had fled, and her spellbound sickness had cost Magiere and Leesil. Both appeared to go mad before she could lift the crossbow to fire. Leesil dropped his blades and turned about, searching the night. He stumbled off between the buildings.

  Magiere backed away from Vordana. She did not seem to see him as she cast about, eyes wide in fear of something Wynn couldn't see. All Wynn saw was Vordana's presence. Unlike the dying tree with its lingering essence, he was completely shadow within.

  The world's glimmering essence drifted toward him. Where it touched him, it was consumed like water into a black pit. Trails of the blue-white currents clung briefly to the moving ribbons of shadow in Magiere and then pulled away to drift on to the undead sorcerer.

  "Magiere!" Wynn called out.

  Vordana turned toward her.

  His eyes, like Magiere's, were ebony pits even darker than his form. His composure returned, and so did his grin. He stepped toward her, and his voice filled her mind.

  A treat... before I return home with good news of my find. I can taste you from here!

  Wynn heaved up the crossbow and fired. She tried to aim for center mass as Leesil had once instructed her, but when she pulled the lever and the bowstring snapped forward, the crossbow bucked in her grip.

  The quarrel struck Vordana in his right eye. His head jerked to the side on impact, and the quarrel head punched out of his temple. Vordana cried out, grasping at it as smoke sizzled from the wound to envelope his face.

  Wynn did not wait and turned to run. In her spellbound sight, she stumbled along the buildings hedging the main road and nearly tripped over a tripod brazier. Its flame blinded her for a moment—but an idea flashed into her mind.

  Magiere and Leesil used fire to fight the undead.

  The iron vessel was too hot to touch. It looked too heavy to lift by its suspension chains, and there was nothing about that she could light in its flame. She remembered one place where she might find something of use.

  Wynn stumbled on toward the smithy down near the common house. They had seen smoke rising from its chimneys when they had arrived the night before. If a smith lived and worked here, there might be smoldering coals left from the day's labor. As she reached the forge room door, she panted in relief. It was not locked. She heard footfalls pounding from behind as she slipped inside.

  IChane bullied his weakening horse toward the town's inland side, forcing it to run through the trees. He heard Chap's eerie wailing and needed a vantage point to see what was happening. He did not care if Welstiel followed or not. The dog's voice fell silent.

  The land here was flat, but he found enough of a rise to let him see over the short buildings around the crossroads. With his sight opened wide, Chane saw a bizarre scene play out in the town's midway.

  Dressed in her hauberk, with a torch in one hand and her sword in the other, Magiere faced a soiled figure in a short, hooded robe. Chane focused his whole awareness on the dhampir's adversary. What he sensed disturbed him.

  The figure's presenc
e wasn't blank, like Welstiel's, but there was no life in this man. Not like one of his own kind, but a lingering deep emptiness of death he'd never encountered before... at least not in anything that still moved.

  Chap charged into the creature's legs, tumbling it to the ground, and turned to snap his jaws closed on its arm. Leesil was on the ground, but Chane couldn't tell if he was injured. Suddenly, the creature threw the dog at Magiere, and she fell under its weight. Both dog and dhampir were quickly up again. The dead man was already on his feet and stretched out his hands in the air, gesturing at Chap.

  The dog whirled several times, and then ran off wailing up the inland road. As it passed out of sight, Chane dismounted and jogged down to the same path between the buildings for a better view. Magiere swung at the creature again, and Chane found what he sought.

  Wynn huddled behind a water trough across the main road, a loaded crossbow in her hands. As he looked back to the fight, the dead man gestured at the dhampir standing before the half-elf.

  "Magiere!" Wynn shouted.

  Every sinew of Chane's body clenched as she gave her position away.

  Magiere and Leesil ran off in separate directions between the buildings and inland through the forest. They abandoned Wynn, and the dead man turned to look at her. She fired the crossbow.

  Chane got up to run toward Wynn, but something snagged his cloak from behind.

  "Stop!" Welstiel ordered.

  Chane whirled around, slapping away Welstiel's grip. "She's alone down there!"

  "The sage is not part of this, " Welstiel said. His dark cloak cast him as a deeper shadow within the dark. "Magiere is in danger. We must go after her. "

  If Wynn's need were not so urgent, Chane would have set upon Welstiel right then—and severed his head. He took two steps back, turned, and ran between the buildings into the crossroads.

  Chane halted between the braziers and searched about. He heard running footsteps to the west along the main road and followed them. Ahead, he saw Wynn disappear into the wide door of a building, and the dead man was close behind her. The air around the building smelled of char and metal. Chane drew his sword as he reached the smithy's open door.