Soul Hosts

by Joseph Isaacs

  Chapter 32

  Nothing Truly Ends

  Nothing truly ends, only changes and weaves like the corridors of the Weaver's World-Kolram

  --

  The tip of Gar’s blue knife loomed closer and closer, till the tip was almost up against Wayden’s neck. Wayden strained to push it away from him, but the Skymaster was the stronger of the two.

  “You should have made sure I was dead, Kolram” Gar snarled. "I’ll be sure to cut you enough that I won't make the mistake. Removing your throat ought to do the trick."

  Then Gar pulled out of Wayden’s grip, raised the knife, and…a line of flame hit Gar, melting his knife and searing the flesh in Gar's hand became skeletal. With his skeletal hand, Gar grabbed Wayden’s neck and choked. It was true what they said, Gar wouldn’t die.

  But how was he still alive? Gar was no Immortal. The flesh wouldn’t have burnt off his hand if he was. His face looked crushed from the fall, that wouldn’t happen to an Immortal.

  Wayden saw a tunnel of light ahead. He felt like he was stumbling towards it. He imagined Kazor, Anaz, Nanny, his mother- all waving to him from up ahead. ‘Come join us,’ they seemed to be saying.

  "I can't die,” Wayden thought. “I have to save Mavik.”

  "Hold on. Don't give up. Fight to stay alive," Kolram said, “I think Gar possesses a second artifact besides the necklace."

  Could Gar have got hold of a second God-weapon? What could it be? Wayden’s eyes roamed up and down Gar, desperate to find something. His mind flashed backed to Dragonclaw, the wounded soldier who was healed by his bracelet. One of the gifts of Sylvia, Dragonclaw had said. Wayden’s eyes fell upon Gar’s armband.

  He had to let Alaina know somehow, but Gar was choking him, closing his windpipes. Wayden summoned a last surge of desperate adrenaline, and kicked out sideways, sending Gar sprawling. Alaina rushed forward and Wayden whispered, “The armband” before hands of bone closed around his throat once more.

  Alaina whispered a thin, precise line of fire. The red line of heat burnt into Gar’s arm around the bracelet The Skymaster screamed in pain as his arm became burnt bone. Wayden twisted and kicked at the weakened arm. The armband slipped from his skeletal wrist, hissing as it fell into the snow.

  Gar collapsed on top of Wayden, cold and lifeless. Alaina helped Wayden regain his feet. Harth said, “Well done, man child. The dragon will miss the man child, when we part ways.”

  "You could have helped you know," Wayden grumbled.

  "Man-child didn't ask," Harth said. "It is a great offense to take the glory of the fight from another. It is the Way of the Scale."

  Gar’s armband sat steaming in the ice, its golden leaf gleaming from snow melting upon its heated metal. Wayden used his cloak to snatch it up and dropped it into his pocket. It felt warm against his leg.

  He stared at Gar’s corpse. He prodded the body with his foot. Yet one more corpse. He'd hoped that he was done with death and battle. He’d hoped all this troubles were over. Yet it seems like they’d only just begun.

  "Nothing truly ends, only changes and weaves like the corridors of the Weaver's World," Kolram said. “Even death is not the end. No energy is destroyed, only changed from one form to another. We’re all connected, and yet…we’re all alone.”

  Wayden walked over towards Alaina, who was staring at her father’s dead body, her face a lighter shade of green.

  “I’m sorry,” Wayden said. “I know what it’s like to lose a parent.”

  “I suppose I shouldn’t feel anything about him being dead,” Alaina said. “But I do. I mean, I’m glad he’s dead, but I can’t help but wish he’d been a better man.”

  “When I found out Kelsen had become a collaborator, it felt horrible. Our parents- they are supposed to be better than this.”

  “My grandfather beat Gar so badly when he was little, Gar lost his eye. If I have children, will I do that to them? Are we bound to repeat the awfulness are parents did to us?”

  “You’re nothing like your father,” Wayden said.

  “Yet. But what if I change. Become like him.”

  “Your very fear of it will stop you.”

  “Slow me maybe. But people do what they know. I’ve grown up steeped in hatred. It’s in my bones.”

  “But not in your heart. You might have to guard against your instincts. But deep down, you care- you want to do right, and that will make the difference.”

  Alaina stared at the burnt corpse. “Let’s get the wraith out of here.”

  Wayden clambered onto Harth, and Alaina rode her wolf. They flew through the starry night. The green moon had disappeared already, leaving only the two smaller moons, like lovers in an open sky. The wolves flew over the icy tundra, and Wayden could feel Alaina weeping as she clung to him.

  When they landed in the Fist, almost everything was ready for departure. Wayden realized he was starved and thirsty. He asked a Mantu supply master for drink and food. The Mantu bowed her head. "This one is honored to serve, young master."

  Wayden downed a full wine skin in one chug. Beads of wine dripped down his chin. "May I have a second?" he asked the Mantu.

  "Perhaps you are the Dragonking reborn," Kolram mused.

  Alaina sipped a water skin more modestly.

  With an empty belly, Wayden felt more than a bit tipsy as he clambered onto Harth for the flight home. Alaina noticed and tightened his leg straps. “You wouldn’t be the first Sky Raider to fall off his steed. It’s a mistake you can’t make twice because the first will kill you.”

  Then Harth soared into the night sky.

  So much had happened; it felt like a bad dream. He had his vengeance, but it had been costly. Jazlyn dead. Rif, Verica, and Mavik trapped underground. He’d failed them. He should have saved them.

  "You did more than anyone could have expected,” Kolram said, “I'm proud of you."

  The squadron of wolves and one dragon must have made a strange sight to anyone in Raslo or Deep Woods who happened to be gazing skywards. As they flew, Wayden told the Draconess what had transpired with Gar. She seemed frightened at his words, or perhaps it was more just that flying on a dragon wasn't quite as fun as she thought it would be.

  After a full day of flying, they landed at South Watch. There was snow here as well, though a lighter dusting graced the boughs of evergreens. The dark-skinned Flame, the shaven-headed female healer, and several Flickers came out to tend the wounded. Wayden counted the surviving magi. Not counting the eight that had gone with Conrick on the sled, there were twenty other survivors. If they rescued Mavik and the Dragonking they might be able to save a dozen more, but hundreds were dead. Wayden had failed them.

  "You saved more than would have been saved if you hadn't risked your own life and limb to fly into what we all thought was certain death,” Kolram said. “No small achievement for a fifteen-year-old."

  "Sixteen," Wayden thought. "Did you forget today is my name day? We had a party and everything."

  "And what a party it was!"

  "You mean you didn't get me anything? How thoughtless of you."

  "I may be bodiless, but if I become thoughtless, what would be left?"

  "Just a loud talking mouth. Oh wait, that's what you already are."

  "A hit, a palpable hit."

  Wayden and others helped the healers treated the cuts with a mixture of honey and kava leaves, and then replaced the old bandages with fresh linens.

  Alaina whispered rather heatedly to Laeko, as she dressed her wounds. “You knew didn’t you? The Weaver asked for me to save you. You knew that the prophecies were fakes.”

  Laeko shook her head. “I guessed, I didn't know. It has been many a year since the Weaver and the Shadow Queen included me in their plans. I’m surprised she even thought of me at all.”

  "She specifically wanted me to save you," Alaina said, tightening the bandage.

  "Odd. The Weaver is not a particularly sentimental person. Why would she be worried about saving an old woman li
ke me? I tell you I know nothing."

  “I find that a bit hard to believe.”

  “You’re hurting me.”

  “Good.” Alaina stormed away.

  Was Laeko telling the truth? If she was lying, she was delivering a fine performance. Still, if Wayden had learned nothing else, it was that some were as skilled with lies as Dragonknights were with blades.

  Wayden approached Alaina, who was starting up a campfire with her breath. Wayden envied her, flint was far less accommodating than Fire-whispering. Even wet from the snow, the tiny pieces of wood caught quickly and soon the flames leapt skyward. Alaina pulled up her sleeve and drew her knife.

  “Enough, with the cutting,” Wayden said. “Enough blood has been shed. You're right that butchery should be taken seriously, but I think you should include yourself in that sanction."

  "I don’t want to be like my father. I don’t want to take killing lightly."

  "You shouldn’t. How about a moment of silence and prayer to remember the dead? If your father meditated more, and cut less the Nest would’ve been a more peaceful place.”

  Alaina chewed her lip. “Perhaps you’re right. A moment of prayer and meditation sounds good. My head feels like it is about to explode. You know the Hum of Bantos?”

  Wayden nodded. He took her hand and placed it against his chest and then began to hum a single note softly. They prayed, staring into the dancing flames for a long notch. When they stopped, Alaina stood and paced. “I don’t know what to do. I’m not the Skydaughter anymore.”

  “No, you’re something far better," Wayden said. "Come to the Red Palace with us. They don’t have enough people left who are skilled with sky wolves. Not to mention you possess the powers of the Grandmistress of Flame”

  Tears brimmed in Alaina’s golden eyes. “I don’t belong there. I don’t belong anywhere.”

  “None of us do.” Then Wayden smiled at Alaina, squeezing her hand affectionately. “And all of us do.” Wayden laughed. “Besides, you told me you would let me take you to a ball.”

  “Wasn’t that what we just attended?”

  "I had in mind a different kind of dancing. One that involves less fire and steel.”

  “What, that wasn't good enough for you? Percussion from the Heart Stone, Asgaroth and the Dragonking dancing- what more could one ask for?”

  Wayden smiled. They stared at the fire for a while longer. Finally Wayden said, “I wish there was some way I could get Mavik back. This waiting...it's so hard. And whose to say by the time I get to him he won’t be dead already?"

  Alaina held his hand. "I know. I wish there was something I could do to help."

  "You could stay with me."

  "And what? I’m a mess right now. I’ve got to find myself, figure things out. Maybe someday I'll be ready, but right now, I'm more of a volcano than the Red Palace. I think I need to just fly by myself for a bit."

  “What? Without Red Paw?”

  Alaina laughed. “Well, that might make the flying bit tough.”

  "Will you come back someday? Do you promise?"

  Alaina flicked her tongue. "The wraiths couldn’t keep me away. Anyway, I’m not going anywhere just yet."

  She leaned her head against Wayden’s shoulder and a moment later Wayden heard soft snores. He lay her onto a blanket and put another over her. A drop of moisture fell on her blanket. He was surprised to find tears racing down his cheeks.

  The next day, they made good time, arriving before sundown at the Red Palace. The dragon entered through the craterous mouth of the volcano and landed in the Court of Flame. Guards and servants were helping the unloading of the wounded. Dragonknights helped the Draconess down from Harth’s back and Dade off of his wolf.

  Volkanus let out a sad moan from her bed of lava. An acolyte and a tall, gangly Mantu servant were scrubbing the sickly dragon.

  "Another dragon!" Harth said. "Sick. Dying. The line of the dragon must not fade. So says the Claw."

  Volkanus did seem at death’s door. His scales were more than half gone and his skin was covered with huge scarlet boils. His eyes crept open only for moments at a time. Wayden leapt off Harth, and rushed across the stone floor towards Volkanus.

  "What's wrong with him?" Wayden asked the acolyte attending him. The apprentice turned, and with a start, Wayden recognized him as the pale-faced man who had been paying Gior to suck his soul. The man seemed to recognize Wayden as well. His face paled and he trembled.

  Volkanus let out a pitiful moan. “Poison.”

  Wayden’s eyes widened. He studied the huge, scarlet beast. The patchy white skin reminded Wayden of his father’s old dragon cats. One day one of the dragon cats had a reaction like this and they had to send for a healer. What was it he’d said? It came back to Wayden in a flash. He addressed the tall, thin male Mantu, scrubbing the dragon's flaky scales with a polish.

  "Stop!" Wayden said. "Stop scrubbing."

  "You there— halt." The Draconess bellowed. She studied Wayden curiously. "What ails?"

  "In the mansion I grew up in—" Wayden began.

  "You grew up in a mansion?"

  "My parents were Laisa and Kelsen of Templeton. We lived in the Telek manor. My nanny scrubbed our pet dragon cat—"

  "What a peculiar pet. Dragon cats are filthy, wild animals."

  "That's what Nanny said, and she scrubbed him with a base powder. The Healer told her she had to stop doing that. Dragon blood is acidic."

  The Draconess barked at the Mantu, "Lay that polish down immediately!"

  The Mantu servant did so, and bowed. "This one meant no offense, Madam. This one was told to use this to polish the dragon."

  "Who gave you that order?" the Draconess asked.

  The Mantu pointed to the acolyte.

  The acolyte’s face reddened. “Lord Crow.”

  And had he obeyed unquestioningly because Crow had paid him and he desperately needed money for Gior?

  "Crow… Karsgoth," the Draconess's face reddened. "He has much to answer for."

  Crow and the Draconess had exchanged harsh words, as the Flickers prepared for leaving Dark Fist.

  "Crow you betrayed us," the Draconess said. "You will pay for this wrong you have done our nation."

  "The name is Karsgoth. And I thought we were allies for the time being?"

  "For the time being. The greater the trust, the truer the allies. You may be allies for now, but you’ve done little to win my trust."

  "You threaten us," Dakarth said. "But your army is weak and ill-armed. Your dragon is sick. I would tread carefully, Draconess."

  Wayden had half wanted to let Harth eat them. It still made him angry to think about it.

  The white dragon settled in next to Volkanus in the pool of lava. Harth licked the flaking scales with a thin forked tongue.

  The Draconess said to Dade, "Get Belza immediately. Tell her of the situation and have her tend the dragon."

  Dade shook his head. “Belza was one of the wounded taken by sled to Lumberton."

  "Well get Lahart then," the Draconess said.

  "Lahart was buried before we left Raslo. Evio is our highest ranking Beast Tongue at the moment."

  "Evio? Who is that?”

  “An apprentice of Lahart’s.”

  “An apprentice of an apprentice. Does he even know a dragon from a dog? Tell him one has wings and the other barks. Curses, what a mess. Well, don’t just stand there. Fetch him.”

  “Her, Your Majesty.”

  “I don’t care if she is an it! Get her!" the Draconess said. She shook her head watching the Fire-whisperer scurry off. "Gah! Half our magi dead or wounded. Dracon Niar’s name will go down in infamy.”

  --

  “Well, I guess this is goodbye,” Alaina said. They stood by Cook’s lake. The heat from the lake struck against the cold of winter and steam billowed up in tall towers, pillars of sky.

  "Where will you go?" Wayden asked.

  "I'm going to fly to Kaldia, fir
st. See if I can win the skywolf-flying competition in the Blood Games. Then maybe I’ll visit the Diamond City in Tulkar."

  "It might be dangerous there. Rif told me—"

  "Rif- that’s the Tulkarian boy who almost killed you?"

  "That's the one. He said his whole family was captured by slavers—"

  "Too bad they didn't capture him too."

  "Rif wasn’t evil.”

  “No, choking you was just his way of saying hello.”

  “The souls inside him got the better of him somehow."

  “Same happened to my father. Except the soul was his own.”

  "It was different with Rif. He was—a friend.”

  “You always think the best of everyone."

  “I didn’t at first. I didn’t even give him a chance, but Kolram told me too, and you know what? Kolram was right. Whatever happened to Rif, whatever he is now, it wasn’t because he had purple hair. It was because the Dracon messed with things he never ought to have.”

  “Take care of Laeko for me."

  After a notch, she clambered onto Red Paw's back. She smiled at Wayden, dampness upon her cheeks. With a shake of the reins, she was gone.

  Wayden felt as if he had a hole in his chest where his heart had been. He tried not to cry, but he tasted something salty on his lips. Heroes didn't blubber, but that was okay because he was no hero. He was just a boy trying to do the best he could.

  “That, my young friend, is what a hero is,” Kolram said.

  “Speaking of young, how old are you exactly?”

  “That I will never tell.”

  “You’re a descendant of the Dragonking right? So what are you like two hundred? Two hundred and fifty?”

  “Two hundred and fifty!”

  “There is no way you are any younger than a hundred.”

  “I’m seventy five.”

  “Seventy-five! You’re old enough to be a great-grandpa.”

  “I’m old enough to be dead.”

  “You can’t die yet. Wait till we’ve saved my brother.”

  “I serve at your pleasure, My Lord.”

  Wayden wandered passed the guard at the gate who bowed to him. Being a hero would take some getting used to. He got a bit lost, and passed the same guard about three times, before the guard took mercy on him and reminded him the way back to in his new quarters.

  It was small, but had a beautiful view of Cook’s Lake, though that just made him think of Alaina again. He had a sleeping pallet and a chest to keep all his possessions in. Now he just needed some possessions. Still, it was the most comfortable place he had rested for eight years. He’d just dozed off, when someone rapped hard on the door.

  He opened the door to find a Mantu and a blonde-haired girl. The Mantu was the supply master with the different colored eyes, who had given him the wineskins at Dark Fist. The woman was pretty, with sparkling blue eyes and dark hair.

  "We must go now," the Mantu said.

  "Pardon?"

  "My name is Ravenna,” the older girl said. “This is Ec. You must come. We have to go now. My friend here is a Splasher. We have to get you out of here before Ko has you imprisoned."

  "Ko?" Wayden asked surprised.

  “A Purist Fire-Whisperer."

  "I have had the misfortune of knowing him. What about Ko? The Draconess will keep him in line."

  "The Draconess is about to be removed from power," Ravenna said. "Ko’s coming back from the Three Temples. Neruk and Ko have gained support and claiming to take over rule till the next choosing. They are using the Dracon’s accusations of treason against his wife as proof that she cannot remain in power. The Draconess is seeking to get support from the Temple of the Dragon, but for some unfathomable reason they are supporting the Purists.”

  Wayden remembered the acolyte who had owed money to Gior. His family were rich and influential in the Temple of the Dragon. Could that have something to do with their support? Had they been bought off?

  “A Purist will be even worse than Niar,” Ec said.

  Wayden shivered. The Purist movement had fallen out of favor after Dracon Borleat nearly brought the Land of Light to ruin, with his campaign to purge non-human elements. If Ko was a Purist, then people like Ec, Verica, and Alaina would be banished, enslaved, or killed.

  “We have to warn the Draconess,” Wayden said.

  “One of our members is telling the Draconess now, but we have seen in the water that Neruk and his son Ko will be seizing power for the foreseeable future.”

  “I’ve had enough of visions and prophecies,” Wayden grumbled. “How do we know the Shadow Queen isn’t playing us again?”

  “There was no pulse this time," Ec said, "The messages the Shadow Queen sent through the Heart Stone pulsed as the Heart Stone did. This one should have noticed it. This message was clear. There is a way into the underground. We must seek the Followers of Bantos.”

  “The Woodsmen? They're dangerous bandits.” Even as the words came out of Wayden's mouth, he thought of the kindly Healer Conrick who had denied it flatly.

  Ravenna's face reddened. “My brother is one of the Woodsmen. He's no bandit."

  Wayden held up his hands. “Very well. I suppose we need to move then. Let me get Harth."

  Ec shook her head. "Harth will not come with us on this journey."

  "What? Of course Harth will," Wayden said.

  Ec shook her head. "You will see."

  In the end, Ec was right.

  "Man child has been friend to Harth. but Volkanus is dying, perhaps the last of our kind. Harth's first duty is to the claw."

  Wayden tried to explain about Ko taking over, but Harth didn't care. "The affairs of man mean nothing to Harth. The Dragon line must be continued. Such is the way of the Fire Blood. So speaks the Egg.”

  There was no changing Harth’s mind, and every moment they wasted trying was putting them in more jeopardy, so with a sigh, Wayden said goodbye and moved quickly out the South West gate.

  Ec nodded to the officer on duty and the officer nodded back. Horses awaited them. Laeko and a huge Ozac were there too.

  “This is Org,” Ravenna said. “He’ll be joining us.”

  Org’s mount was a large, black warhorse. Wayden's was a small green dragonhorse. Wayden didn't know her name, so he decided to call her Green Chameleon, in honor of Swiftrider and his horse. Laeko shared the horse with him. Ravenna and Ec both rode on the back of a single palfrey.

  Snow fell from the sky, casting Deep Woods in an icy glaze that crested bough and stump in a blanket of peacefulness.

  What new adventures were ahead of Wayden, he could only begin to guess? The future had suddenly been stricken wide open and it no longer seemed to he was destined to be a nothing, and all the possibilities in between were strewn like a rainbow cross a sun-kissed sky.

  The End