18
MOTHER OF ALL CURSES
It was coming on to dusk, but there was no mist this time of year on Phemoria, so visibility was still quite good. From behind a large tree trunk of the dead forest that led to the Pit of the Obstinate, Khalid observed the scene unfolding with some trepidation.
Atop of the stairs that led to the platform where a sacrificial altar stood open to the pit beyond, the smelter that was the Soul Keep had been placed and was heating up rapidly. As the solid metal contents were reduced into a red-hot molten liquid, the spirits of the demon crew shot out of the Keep and flew above it, revelling in their release from their Osmium encapsulation.
Prochazka was seated on the stairs speaking into her headset; the case containing the cursed crown of the Phemoray was still locked closed and positioned under one of her feet. Between her knees she held the metal coffer containing the curse of Chironjivi, which she kept picking up and shaking, just for the hell of it.
‘We knew you’d come for us, Mistress,’ the crew from Dead Man Downs caroused. ‘Let’s kill all those light fuckers —’
‘Quiet!’ She wrapped her hand around her mic and held up the middle finger on the other hand on which she wore their ring. ‘I give the orders and you obey.’ The general released her clasp on the mic to resume communications with her Valoureans back at the palace. ‘Captain. Wait ten minutes for the charge to dissipate then kill them all and retrieve the princess.’ She ended the call, using the remote in her hand.
‘Whoo-hoo! Most wise, Mistress.’ The spirits laughed and cheered. ‘What’s in those containers?’ they asked, and Prochazka found her grin.
‘I’ll get to that in a moment. Now, one more word and I’ll stick you back on that light-filled planet I fished you out from.’
She looked back to her remote and placed another call. ‘Captain Vishketah, report?’ The general listened. ‘How are you coming with the doors? … Have you cut the power? … If the switches are not responding, cut the damn wires! I want it off! … I am well aware the generators can only be shut down from the inside, but the fuel feed is exterior, so cut it off!’
Prochazka ended the call, frustrated. ‘Must I do every damn thing myself?’
‘Send us, Mistress, let us lift the burden.’
She drew a deep breath for patience, and replaced the remote on her belt. She took the metal coffer in one hand, grabbed up the case in the other, turned and scaled the stairs. ‘I need you here.’
‘What’s the plan?’ The spirits were wary — you didn’t need to heat the smelter to conjure their presence.
‘A little trip down memory lane.’ Prochazka placed the case and the metal coffer down by the Soul Keep and backed up to the stairs, a ring of fire appearing and encircling all three items. The demon crew became agitated when they discovered they could not move beyond the circle.
‘What trick is this? We cannot help you if we are trapped.’
‘Did you really think I had forgotten your betrayal … or that I need your help to do anything any more?’ she sneered in revulsion and delight. ‘In the case is the crown of the Phemoray you promised to destroy for me, and now you shall regret for all eternity that you did not.’
The case containing the cursed crown flew open, and although the naked eye would have seen nothing extraordinary result, Khalid’s third eye vision was acute since his time in Karmandi, and he saw the seething mass of hateful, tortured souls rising to oppose the crew of Dead Man Downs.
‘How are you here?’ they hissed in spite. Then, realising they were trapped in a confined space with the equally spiteful male energy, they screeched in protest.
‘She brought us.’ The crew directed the Phemoray and the blame to the general, who waved.
‘Welcome to the festivities, ladies,’ she gloated at their discomfort. ‘General! Get us out of here this instant!’
‘I don’t take orders from you any more.’ She flashed a grin as the crown of Phemoria rose to hover over the smelter. ‘Nor will any, ever again.’ She allowed the crown to fall into the molten metal. The thought form screamed, burst into flame, and split apart into many entities, who proceeded to chase and attack the crew from Dead Man Downs.
‘It was Chironjivi who deceived you, we were only following his orders,’ they defended. ‘He is the one who screwed up your queen.’
‘That is why I brought him to the party too.’ The general motioned to the metal coffer, which unlatched and popped open. A cloud of ash rose into the air, but it was contained within the circle of the flames.
‘Finally come to join us, Captain?’ the spirit crew taunted. ‘Now you Phemorian whores are really in trouble.’
‘It just gives us the chance to finish what we started,’ the Phemoray retorted.
When it could find no living soul to cling to, the ashes formed a shadow of a man. Observing the conflict around him, he looked beyond it to the culprit. ‘You’re not my son … but I know you,’ it discerned and then laughed. ‘You’re the silly bitch who left your queen wide open to be taken by me. You’re the reason I have a son!’
The Phemoray ceased their feuding and looked back to the general. ‘It was you who betrayed us!’ they hissed, all their ire now aimed at her.
‘And I will do it again.’ Prochazka was silently fuming, her jaw clenched in anger as she manifested a large ancient text in her hand and forced a smile. ‘Recognise this?’
Chironjivi stopped laughing. ‘Mother’s grimoire.’
‘Correct.’ Her smile was more sincere.
‘Where did you find that?’ The Phemoray were most curious, and a little fearful.
‘Does it matter? Thurraya obviously took great pains to ensure you never knew of its existence,’ Prochazka gloated. ‘It is the ultimate text on controlling the disembodied — that would be you — and now the book that began your twisted reign will end it!’
All the spirits had ceased their agitated movement and gone very quiet.
‘Did you know there are sub-planes existent where pesky souls can be banished for all eternity?’ she queried with glee, opening the book to the said page, and then looking up to her captive audience. ‘What’s wrong? Am I not amusing you any more? Do you not fancy spending the rest of time fighting out your woes with the souls that you’ve consumed all your wretched time hating?’
‘She’s bluffing!’ Chironjivi wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t sound too bothered either.
‘Am I?’ she challenged. ‘It took years of research and digging into classified files to find the crew manifest for the Insurrecto, but I found it. It took even more delving to find the names of every female soul sacrificed to this pit and later summoned unto our crown by Thurraya. But, with those names I can banish you all! There is seal I have drawn into the ground beneath the Keep, a symbol that only I know, and this sigil will be your prison.’
The spirits turned very hostile, and the particles forming Chironjivi’s grey form spread apart to make him appear huge. ‘We could make you more powerful than you ever dreamt —’
‘I’ve heard that before!’ Prochazka looked away and squeezed the hand that hosted the demon’s ring into a fist — something was ailing her and Khalid knew her torment all too well.
‘We can destroy any who oppose us,’ Chironjivi appealed. ‘Time for you to join your crew.’ She looked to the canister and from it rose the amulet Zeven had torn from Khalid’s hand.
Chironjivi was the soul who had created the Soul Keep, he had witnessed the entire rite, so Khalid was hoping to use the amulet to dig into Chironjivi’s memory in order to reverse the curse. ‘Stop!’ Khalid ran from the shadows to the base of the stairs, and Prochazka turned to confront him.
‘No, you stop!’ Prochazka suggested, snapping the book closed. ‘I have all the curses contained, but with a thought I will set them free to wreak havoc where they will.’
‘That’s my boy!’ Chironjivi was pleased to see Khalid. ‘Go on then, provoke her.’
‘You are the one!’ Pro
chazka’s interest in her unexpected company was piqued; she drew a pulse laser weapon and aimed it at him. ‘You are Khalid Mansur?’
‘I am.’ He held his hands palm outwards in submission.
‘How did you find me?’
‘I saw this place in a beautiful dream I had,’ he explained, and clearly the general thought he was being sarcastic.
‘There is nothing beautiful about this place,’ she scoffed.
‘There could be,’ Khalid said with great sincerity. ‘You have gathered everything we need to make it so.’
Prochazka was perplexed. ‘You want to see your father and his demons banished?’
‘He is not my father,’ he advised amicably. ‘He’s just a twisted, tormented being who tricked us both into taking the wrong path.’
‘No,’ Prochazka disagreed. ‘I am on the right path, and you … killed my Qusay.’
‘You killed your Qusay,’ Khalid pointed out. ‘And ordered the death of another.’
Prochazka was perplexed by this, as if she had only just realised the strange irony in her bitter hatred for this man who owed her his life. ‘I acted in the best interest of Phemoria,’ she justified, although she appeared pained about it.
‘In the best interest of Phemoria? Or in the best interest of not being discovered as the woman who saved the first true prince of the Phemorian royal line?’ Khalid suspected the truth would piss her off, and the look of contempt she served him certainly reflected that sentiment, and yet, she was still considering the question.
‘He’s trying to trick you,’ the spirit crew hissed. ‘Let us deal with him.’ ‘No, General, raise our crown from the flames and we shall serve you,’ the Phemoray appealed.
‘I know you think you are in control of … this,’ Khalid waved a hand about, referring to the seething mass of hatred. ‘I was attached to it for nearly all this earthly life, but they twist your perspective to suit themselves. While you wear that ring, no decision you make is truly your own.’
‘I cast a protection spell on this ring.’ Prochazka held up the grimoire as her source. ‘They cannot control me so long as I stay true to Phemoria.’
‘Which leads back to my original question.’ Khalid appealed for her to consider that. ‘Because if that condition has been broken then you are no longer protected and all their negativity and angst will be influencing every move you make. Chironjivi is a black hole that thrives on the fear, hatred and horror of women; you really don’t want to feed him thought forms like the Phemoray?’
‘I said provoke her, not counsel her!’ Chironjivi objected. ‘You’re just confusing the fucking issue!’
‘I know they’ve lied to you, cheated you, hurt you!’ Khalid ignored the spirits and stayed focused on Prochazka. ‘But despite all that, you have served Phemoria to the best of your ability. You have the power to banish all these souls to damnation, including those of your foremothers, at the risk of being tempted to summon them back, or someone else discovering the means to do so. Or, we could free these souls from these curses so that they can all move on to the next phase of their spiritual evolution, and ensure they never get the opportunity to enforce their archaic mind-set on anyone of influence again.’
Prochazka was reluctant. ‘You are asking me to forgive them their crimes against myself, my Qusay and my people?’ That was clearly difficult; emotionally Prochazka was starting to crack. Tears were welling in her eyes and she didn’t like it.
‘Just take off the ring before you answer,’ Khalid appealed. ‘You don’t need to control them with it, you’ve cast a circle of protection.’
‘It’s a trick,’ hissed the crew.
‘He is an abomination who should never have been born.’ The Phemoray were so full of spite that they would rather side with their nemesis than accept that a man might have their best interests at heart.
‘What the fuck is wrong with you, boy?’ Chironjivi snarled. ‘Have those light fuckers made a pussy out of you? Stop talking rubbish and take her out!’
‘Don’t listen to them, all they know is hatred and mistrust.’ Khalid endeavoured to stay focused on the general.
‘That’s all I know.’ Her expression hardened.
‘We’d rather be damned to fight for all eternity than to forgive those fucking bitches!’ the crew snarled.
‘You haven’t seen the half of it!’ the Phemoray threatened the crew right back.
Their words only infuriated the general. ‘There is no forgiveness in this world, it’s not in them, and it’s not in me. They deserve one another.’ She let her hold over Chironjivi’s amulet lapse and it dropped into the smelter, drawing in his dark soul, the crew of Dead Man Downs and the Phemoray along with it. The ash shadow lost its form, snowing down upon the furnace, and then silence.
Prochazka’s gaze turned back to Khalid, her weapon still aimed at him. ‘I really can’t allow anyone to witness the banishing ri—’
A rumbling was heard from deep in the belly of the smelter.
‘Ahhhhh!’ Prochazka struggled to hold her weapon, as the ring upon her finger began to glow and burn.
Inside the vault’s control tower, Telmo’s team had located the primary operations centre. Like their transport here, the system was psychically controlled. There was a telepathic control plate that sat within a pulpit-like structure. This overlooked the room of pods through a huge glass wall that faced inwards towards the complex.
‘Where am I supposed to connect to this thing?’ Reggie asked, cord in hand; he’d looked over the entire pulpit, but its surface was entirely smooth.
Telmo placed his hand on the control plate, and it remained dead as a doornail. ‘Access denied,’ he assumed, looking back to Reggie. ‘You can’t just dive in and control it like you do with your workstation?’
‘Well, I could if I knew what the fuck I was looking at?’ Reggie defended his skills. ‘Besides, I don’t actually touch the keys and this is a telepathic touch pad, so that ain’t going to work. What about her?’ He motioned to Jalila unconscious on the lounge.
They fetched her over and placed her hand on the plate, but there was no response either.
‘Where is the genie room?’ Kalayna proffered. ‘I can switch the power manually from there.’
‘There’s a lift yonder that will take us there,’ Reggie advised, heading off with her.
‘Wait up!’ There was still one little sphere of light hanging around Reggie, and Telmo assumed it was the spirit of the Qusay-Sabah Clarona. ‘That will help keep them alive,’ Telmo outlined, ‘but it’s not going to get these pods to bring their hosts out of status and open. What does her Majesty suggest?’
‘Her Majesty is not here,’ Reggie replied. ‘She remained outside the complex.
‘Then who is that?’ He pointed to the sphere, as it came to settle on Jalila.
‘I think you are about to find out.’ Reggie ran to catch the lift that Kalayna was already inside of.
‘You should take the hovercraft, it will be faster,’ Telmo suggested, and Kalayna held the door.
‘I feel safer in the lift,’ she advised, releasing the hold button.
As the lift doors closed, Telmo’s attention reverted to the lounge where Jalila woke up and immediately stood. ‘Jalila, thank goodness —’
‘I am Jafera.’ She moved past him to take up a position behind the control plate. ‘We met during your spirit walk —’
‘Jalila’s sister,’ Telmo recalled, although she’d not been formally introduced. ‘Do you think you can —’
She placed her hand on the plate of the device and it lit up. Seconds later, the interior lights in the pods began to turn on, row by row from the centre out, until the whole chamber was ablaze with light.
‘Is the system designed to take this kind of strain?’ Telmo noted lights flickering. ‘If we overload it, I doubt very much that the generators will fare any better.’
‘No one has ever awoken all the occupants at once,’ Jafera admitted, appearing determined to procee
d all the same. ‘But there is only one more function this system needs to perform.’ She issued the command to open the pods and Telmo focused his psychokinetic will on the same cause.
A split second later the lights fused and Telmo found himself standing in darkness. ‘Did it work?’ He watched all the spheres of light disappearing, unsure if this was a good sign or not, when something fell against him and slid to the floor with a thud.
‘No!’ Kalayna stamped her feet as the elevator stopped mid-descent and fell into darkness.
‘Guess we should have taken the hovercraft?’ Reggie appraised on her behalf. ‘The generators will kick in in a second.’
They waited in the dark impatiently.
‘Any moment now.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Kalayna slid to the floor and thumped it with her hand. ‘If Telmo hasn’t got those pods open, all those women will be dead!’
Reggie was quiet for a time; clearly he didn’t know how to respond to that. ‘I am dead. It’s not so bad.’
Clarona may have been in a spirit form but she was not entirely without means to defend her throne; she’d jammed all the power switches feeding power to the vault into an ‘on’ position, and hindered her guards from interfering with the power wires. All she needed was one Valourean who was a medium, and so far none of the guard charged with shutting down the vault had acknowledged her presence. Still, it was becoming plainly clear to them that something supernatural was in the room hindering their efforts.
‘Maybe our sisters are protecting themselves?’ suggested one Valourean to her captain.
‘That’s impossible.’ The captain didn’t sound convinced by her own statement. ‘Not without the aid of the Phemoray.’
‘We all know what happened the last time the vault was shut down,’ the Valourean ventured to say. ‘Why are we being ordered to murder our own sisters when the Phemoray are no longer in charge?’
‘A very good question,’ Clarona awarded, hoping the captain was as astute as her subordinate.
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