by K T Munson
She regarded Troy for a moment. His gaze told her he wanted something. Despite her wish to remain impassive, Hipasha frowned. Troy remained unreadable as he waited. They stared at one another, neither willing to bend.
After a moment Hipasha finally asked, “What do you want?”
“With the Black King gone, the barrier between the Netherworld and the planets should have returned to normal,” Troy said and watched her closely. This time she managed to keep the frown in place. When she said nothing, he continued. “But it hasn’t.”
“It hasn’t?” She pretended to be surprised.
“Don’t play coy with me, you old fool,” Troy snapped, showing the first sign of anger. “Tell me who is behind this, and we shall keep you down here.”
“That isn’t much of an offer,” Hipasha reminded him, waving a hand around at her dank cramped cell.
“Your head gets to stay attached to you.” Troy bared his teeth, and Hipasha couldn’t keep herself from swallowing hard.
She knew Troy, knew he would do what he said. It would be wise not to underestimate him. She would be executed, or her owl would be. But if she betrayed the Shadow Master, he would kill her in a cruel fashion. Hipasha continued to stare. She did not intend to speak.
“Very well,” Troy finally said, stepping back out of the cell. “You shall be executed in the morning.”
The door closed sharply, keys jangled, and then a lock turned. She tightened the thin cloth further around her to fight off the chill, though she knew the blanket would give her no real comfort. This was a chill of death. Her impending doom had slithered up her back and nestled in the pit of her stomach.
Hours passed, and she continued to sit as still as a rock. She didn’t stir until she heard the guard say something to another man. There was a click, and the slot for food opened by the floor. “Dinner,” the guard informed her before he tossed the plate her way.
The contents were about to slosh toward the edge when suddenly they slowed. Hipasha sat up and regarded the food with wonder as it all but came to a complete stop. Raising her head, she felt the shadows move. Light scuttled away from the room as a shadow crept across the moon-painted wall.
“Master,” she whispered and shrugged the cloth off her shoulders.
The shadows started to gather and solidify. Hipasha stood and felt anticipation fill her; her master was there to take her away—take her far from that awful cell so she might serve him. She reveled in the idea of being in the Netherworld amongst the powerful, the place she belonged at last.
When the shadows collected into a caped being, Hipasha bowed. To her right the bowl of food was still moving slowly, as though time had been dilated. He stood quite a bit taller than her, but then again Hipasha was shorter than most women.
“Hipasha,” his voice boomed, and she had to keep from grimacing, “you have become a disappointment to me.”
A cold shiver ran down her spine. “I have served you well. I was careful. I do not know how they discovered me.”
“The Black Council betrayed you,” he said ever so softly. “They were yours to control.”
The hairs on her arms stood on end. “They served your purpose; they had no idea that I was doing everything for another reason.”
The shadow moved forward, slithering toward her. She held her ground but inside her mind she recoiled. Long fingers unfurled from the shadows and brushed against her cheek. She felt her eyes widen with fear despite herself.
“You’ve lost your usefulness,” he whispered, and those long fingers curled around her throat.
Hipasha screamed but knew time was against her. She knew, as she struggled, that her old body didn’t have enough strength to fight him off. She knew all of her life had been wasted and that she was going to die—and her beloved Bibrus would, too. Her fingers splayed out, reaching for her master, and the shadows glided back. Had she been able to, she would have gasped. She had thought she knew who her master was, but the monster she faced now was something else entirely. She was horrified at what she saw as she died—taking her secrets with her.
Chapter 12: Hystera
“This might not work,” Elisabeth said with a heavy sigh. “I don’t know if it is worth the risk.”
Jinq put a hand on her shoulder. He could see the exhaustion on her face. “We trust you.”
“Then I don’t think we should do this.” Elisabeth closed the book that contained a way to separate their spirits. “Without Ki, I’m not sure this book I took from The Black Council is worth the parchment it is written on.”
“You said it shows how Seers pull spirits from bodies and explains the process of releasing a bound spirit without one.” Jinq put his hand on the book. “As much as I”—Kerrigan stirred—“we are grateful for what you have done, we cannot continue on this way.”
Please, Kerrigan said.
Elisabeth sighed heavily. “Even if it works, you will be like A.J., forever having to be inside a suit or container.”
As Jinq studied the strange contraption, Kerrigan spoke up. As much as I love Jinq, I am a passenger in his body. I have no will or control over his body. I am more trapped here than I would be within the suit. Please try.
Elisabeth nodded. “Very well. I’ll try, but the moment something goes wrong, we stop.”
“Agreed,” Jinq consented.
I understand, Kerrigan added.
Elisabeth opened the book and carried it to the center of the room. The rug had already been rolled up, and the furniture had been positioned out of the way. After five minutes of watching Elisabeth mark the chalk on the stone floor, he felt restless. Unwilling to stay still a moment longer, Jinq left Elisabeth to write the runes alone. She didn’t even look up when he left.
Do you think it will work? Kerrigan asked, her voice hopeful.
Jinq shrugged. “I cannot say for sure.”
Without thought, Jinq found himself in front of the Gate Guardian’s door. Troy’s study lay on the other side of the massive fortress. Jinq knew why his subconscious had led him here. Before he could raise his hand to knock on the door, it swung open. To Jinq’s surprise, Troy’s personal guard, Maris, stood on the other side, a hawk perched on his shoulder. It took Jinq a moment to gather his wits. Maris didn’t take as long.
“Keeper”—Maris tipped his head in deference—“excuse me.” Maris slipped past Jinq and hurried down the hallway.
“Ah, Jinq,” Troy said with a smile on his face. “Did Elisabeth bring good news?”
Jinq studied the boy as he entered the room and slowly shut the door behind him. The young Gate Guardian sat behind his desk. Stacks of papers and open books littered the top of it. He set the quill down and leaned forward toward him, giving Jinq his full attention.
“She may have found a way to release Kerrigan.”
“Good.” Troy closed the book. “I know things will never be the same for you, Kerrigan, but we are here for you.”
Jinq was surprised at how compassionate Troy was being. It seemed that Kerrigan had always managed to bring out this side of Troy. If Jinq hadn’t known better, he’d have thought Troy felt an affinity for the girl. He sensed Kerrigan’s gratefulness before she even spoke.
Tell him thank you, she said softly.
“Kerrigan is appreciative of your kindness.” Jinq sat in the one of the chairs by Troy’s desk. “I’m here on another matter, however.”
“Oh?” Troy asked. “What about?”
“The next Keeper,” Jinq told him. “I can feel the planet leaving me. I’ll need to find the new Keeper. I thought you should be the first to know.”
Jinq? Kerrigan’s voice was so small and afraid.
Troy’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Are you certain?”
Jinq had made peace with it. “Positive. I’ve been struggling with it since our return. It was minor at first, but now it is unmistakable. Hystera is calling for a new Keeper.”
Troy’s expression was pained. “Do you have any idea who?”
“Hy
stera has not shared that with me yet.” Jinq had tried reaching out across the world, but so far there had been no response; no soul had been worthy. “I can only sense Yira’s apprentice, Xen, and the two in the north. My senses are blunted, but I believe Yira has returned to Hystera.”
Troy aged in front of Jinq’s eyes; heavy was the weight of the world on him. “Are you certain? I have had no word.”
“It will come soon enough,” Jinq confirmed. “Yira’s second apprentice is too young.” Jinq had worked with Xen but had never met the younger girl. She was not yet five, and her name escaped his memory. “I sense another just out of reach.”
A subdued silence settled. Jinq tried to push the solemnness of their discussion out of his mind; he’d known this day would come. Now that it was here, though, it felt like a part of him was dying, the part of him that gave him his identity. He might be at peace with what was coming, but he still struggled with the loss of the connection. If he was not the Keeper, he did not know who he was.
“I am sure more will come to you.” Troy cleared his throat. “Is what Elisabeth is proposing to do safe?”
“No,” Jinq answered.
Troy inhaled deeply. “We cannot risk you. There used to be more than four Keepers. You know this. You four are all that remain.”
Jinq’s hands interlaced. “We thought of that. If Elisabeth is there, she can sense the mantle of the Keeper. She can keep it safe.”
Jinq couldn’t explain to anyone the hollowness he’d felt since Hibrius died on that fateful day. It was like half of him was gone. He didn’t feel right any longer. The connection with Hystera helped, but it, too, was fading. In his soul, Jinq knew he shouldn’t be there anymore. He should have died that day in the field, and the Keeper’s mantle should have been reclaimed by the planet.
“If this works,” Jinq said softly, “I want you to know that I’ll need to leave to find the new Keeper.”
“I understand.” Troy appeared troubled. “I’ll have Maris prepare for your eventual departure.”
“Thank you.” Jinq stood. “I want you to know that though we have not always seen eye to eye, I know you will do right by our people and Hystera. The Gate chose well.”
Troy looked stunned. Jinq bowed his head before leaving the room. He entered the hallway and let out a long breath before turning back to where Elisabeth was. Kerrigan was quiet as he walked, but he knew it wouldn’t last long.
Why didn’t you tell me? she finally asked.
Jinq cringed at the vulnerability in her voice. “We had Hipasha to deal with. You had enough stress without my adding to it. I wasn’t sure at first if it was the end of my time as Keeper or something else.”
There was a pause. When did you know for sure?
“Yesterday.”
They reached the room Elisabeth was in, and their conversation ended. The walls, floors, and ceiling had chalk marks on them, and Elisabeth was busily finishing the last of the markings on the far wall. Jinq didn’t know how she’d gotten it done so quickly.
When she turned back, there was chalk in her hair that made it seem paler. Dusting her hands on her dress, she left white smudges on the apron she was wearing. Jinq walked over to help her to her feet. Her hands felt small in his grasp, and for the first time he realized she was smaller than his perception of her. He had this image of her being larger than life, stronger than any mortal, and she was—but she was still a woman.
“Nearly done,” Elisabeth replied, returning to scan the book. “You’ll need to stand there.”
Jinq went to stand on the middle marking, which was large and intricate. Elisabeth moved the strange deflated suit to a smaller circle directly in front of him. She returned to the book again, her lips moving as she read the words. Worry creased her brow, and Jinq got the distinct feeling she was stalling.
Elisabeth, Kerrigan said softly, we are ready.
Elisabeth sighed heavily and looked to the sky. Jinq could see her eyes were closed. Kerrigan grew concerned, causing a roiling feeling in Jinq’s gut. He wanted to tell Kerrigan all would be well, but he did not know that it was true. With a nod, Elisabeth began.
“Jinq, you need to stay within the confines of the circle. Once I activate it, your spirits will both separate from your body. Kerrigan, you must leave Jinq and travel into the suit. Do you understand?” Elisabeth asked, a new determination in her voice.
Yes, Kerrigan said, her voice stronger.
“I shall stay within the circle.”
Elisabeth picked up the chalk. “Good. Ready?”
Jinq nodded and Kerrigan grew tense. Her anticipation was intoxicating. Jinq steeled himself. He heard the sound of the chalk on stone, followed by a sudden hum in the air. Hair stood at attention on his arms as he felt the room vibrate. Kerrigan gasped, and suddenly she was standing in front of him. She was just a silhouette, but he could make out her face. It looked so cheerful.
“It worked,” he whispered. Then he couldn’t breathe.
He heard a cacophony of sounds as he struggled to get air into his lungs. Gripping his chest, worried about his bad heart, he dropped to his knees. His other hand went out to brace himself as he gasped. Just when the darkness was at the edge of his vision, he suddenly took a deep breath.
Jinq!—Kerrigan’s voice broke into the darkness—please wake up.
He mumbled something as he felt a hand on his head. Elisabeth’s concerned face flashed in and out of his vision as he slowly came to. Kerrigan cried as she continued to say his name in muffled desperate pleas.
“I’m fine,” Jinq managed around the lump in his throat. His voice was so hoarse that it felt as though he’d been screaming for hours.
Thank Hystera, Kerrigan wailed.
“You gave us quite a scare,” Elisabeth said. Her eyes were red, and tears brimmed in her eyes. “I don’t understand what went wrong.”
“I thought it worked, too.” Jinq felt exhausted and had to accept Elisabeth’s help to stand.
Elisabeth covered her mouth, grief stricken. “I could have killed you both.” She bowed her head and covered her face with her hands.
Jinq put a hand on the top of her head and patted it. “No harm done.”
When Elisabeth’s hands fell away, Jinq could see how resolute she was. “I won’t ever stop trying. I’ll make this right.”
Jinq felt the urge to comfort her double as Kerrigan’s emotions joined his. He put a hand on her shoulder. “We know you will.”
Chapter 13: Ashlad
Elisabeth sat in the afternoon sun, sipping iced tea. Beside her, Nanette read a book. Her own chilled drink sat on the table between them. Elisabeth tipped her head down, and the brim of her black hat shielded her eyes.
The tips of her short boots poked out from the hem of her dress as she uncrossed her ankles and re-crossed them. Her eyes wandered down to the book that she set in the folds of her dress. It was a romance about three sisters who are all looking for love in their marriages but are too poor to assure it. When their mother announces that she is pregnant, they are thrust into society with the understanding one of them must marry.
It was quite good, yet Elisabeth couldn’t seem to enjoy it. She couldn’t seem to focus on anything except her work. After her failure, there was little else she could think about. She had only agreed to take a break because Nanette had insisted that they both needed it. Though she wasn’t wrong, Elisabeth didn’t want to sit there lazily in the sun. She wanted to be searching for answers but whenever she was stuck on a problem and coming at it from another angle didn’t work, she knew she needed to take a break.
“If you keep sighing like that, I won’t be able to relax,” Nanette chided, apparently fascinated by a page in her book.
Elisabeth shifted and looked at her friend. Her upturned eyes and petite features didn’t budge from their reproach, but her lips twitched. Elisabeth felt a smile spread across her face as she set the glass down and leaned back in the chair.
“I can’t help it,” Elisabeth said
, looking at her friend. “Someone is making me sit still.”
“Worse”—Nanette set her book in her lap—“I am making you try to enjoy doing nothing.”
“It is worse,” she sighed. Nanette broke down and laughed.
Sending her an amused smile, Elisabeth closed the book and swung her legs over the long chair. She stood and stretched slightly before looking down at her friend. Nanette wasn’t wearing a hat, but her hair was fixed in a complicated bun atop her head.
“Giving up already?” Nanette asked with an all-knowing smile.
“Perhaps I miss the library,” Elisabeth countered.
Elisabeth turned to leave, and Nanette put her hand on her arm. The touch startled Elisabeth for a moment, and she looked down at her with wide eyes. Nanette simply smiled a knowing grin that made Elisabeth pause.
Then her features turned almost sad as she said, “We haven’t really talked about it.”
Elisabeth stiffened; she knew exactly what Nanette was alluding to. Though Nanette was only trying to help, Elisabeth wasn’t ready. She wouldn’t be ready until she found a solution. Until she knew which direction to run toward, she didn’t want to discuss standing still or having her hopes dashed again and again. She had to find a way to bring Ki back, and she had to fix her friends.
“You aren’t fooling Malthael, which means you aren’t fooling anyone,” Nanette pointed out. Elisabeth shifted away. Her heart clenched, and knew she couldn’t dodge this conversation.
“There is no point to tears and tantrums.” Elisabeth cleared her throat. “What I need is progress.”
Nanette’s eyes narrowed. “I even gave you a romance book, yet you refuse to discuss it!”