“Trust me,” Astlin said. She moved down the shadowy tunnel toward the dock.
“Be careful,” said Zan.
Astlin stood just inside the tunnel’s mouth, where a lush breeze displaced the smell of rust and oil. The silence beyond meant more than a lack of sound.
“We’re alone,” she called back.
“You sure?” asked Tefler.
“I don’t hear any other thoughts.”
Tefler sighed. “Can we get something more solid? I know a good palmist.”
“I’ll go check,” said Cook.
“What if someone sees you?” Xander asked.
Cook shrugged. “I’ll say I got lost. No one questions me much around here.”
“Good idea,” said Tefler.
Cook crossed the paved branch, his fluid gait defying his ungainly frame. He mounted the platform, circled the ship’s three-bladed hull, and approached the lowered gangway.
Tefler playfully punched Astlin’s arm.
“Sorry I doubted you could read minds,” he said. Then, sheepishly, “Please don’t read my mind.”
Chiming buckles and rings announced Astlin’s departure from the tunnel. The others joined her, walking two by two on the shockingly narrow branch. Looking at the abyss on either side made Astlin dizzy, so she fixed her eyes forward. They were halfway across when Zan grabbed her cloak.
“Wait.”
Morbid thoughts darkened her mind. “What is it?”
Cook was treading slowly up the boarding ramp. His upper body had just disappeared above deck level when Zan said, “I hear water.”
A deep rumbling signaled Cook’s violent expulsion in a torrent that left him soaked and heaving on the sodden dock. Sudden movement drew Astlin’s eyes back to the ship. What looked like a drowned woman in a bronze-trimmed leather top and sea foam green skirts descended the ramp amid a smell like rain.
Astlin felt her cloak shaking. She traced the source to Zan’s trembling hand.
“What’s wrong?”
“Irallel,” he whispered.
Cook rolled out of Irallel’s path just before she strode through the space he’d occupied.
She’d have trampled him, Astlin thought. Another epiphany struck her like a chill wind. I can’t touch her mind! She could vaguely sense Irallel’s presence now, but the woman’s thoughts slipped from her grasp like polished stones coated in slime.
“The gold lady should run,” said Zan.
Xander imposed himself between the fire and air souldancers. “Why?”
Zan’s voice fell. “She killed the grey man.”
“A Lawbringer?” asked Astlin.
“He was one of us,” Zan said. “Now he’s a screaming cloud.”
Irallel stood at the platform’s base. Her eyes gleamed like coins paid to ferry the dead. “Are you really made of gold?”
Astlin met her gaze. “I don’t know what I am.”
“I do.” Irallel nodded at Zan. “You’re like him.”
“For his sake I hope you’re wrong,” said Astlin.
Irallel’s laugh was like lashing rain. “Was that meant to sound humble?”
“Humility is knowledge,” Xander said. “You cannot know what she’s suffered.”
Irallel circled the small band, but her eyes never left Astlin. “I know what she will suffer.”
Astlin felt Xander’s wrath, but he moved before she could stop him. He thrust his open hands toward Irallel. The force he released shook the Kerioth but parted around Irallel like waves around a headland.
The Fire whispered to Astlin. Before she could answer, she was underwater.
Drowning didn’t worry her. Feeling cold for the second time in decades did. The icy flood seeped in, threatening to quench her soul.
This is Irallel—what she really is inside.
The deluge subsided as quickly as it came. Astlin found herself on her hands and knees amid a stream that flowed from the path’s edges and into the sky. She frantically cast about for Xander but found only Irallel.
Astlin’s voice seethed like glowing coals. “Where is he?”
Irallel tossed her sodden hair and smirked. “How should I know?”
The fire souldancer lunged.
Irallel dodged with an ease that made Cook’s fluid grace seem clumsy. She seized Astlin’s right hand with unexpected strength, evoking a stab of pain.
“Somewhat stronger than gold,” Irallel said.
Astlin removed her left glove with her teeth and pressed her hand against Irallel’s face. Steam hissed from beneath her fingers.
Irallel clicked her teeth. “Only brass.”
Her knee crashed into Astlin’s stomach with a burst of pain. Astlin pulled free of her grasp and went reeling backward.
“Those tanner’s scraps are fair protection,” Irallel said, “but you can hear them jangling a mile off.”
Astlin sensed hazy thoughts before pained groans reached her ears. Cook crawled out from behind the ship, his clothes torn and bloody.
“One of your friends survived.” Irallel rushed toward him. “We can’t have that.”
Panic stabbed Astlin’s heart. She thought she could hold Irallel, but she’d never catch her in time.
She can’t outrun your thoughts, said a small greedy voice. Astlin understood the Fire’s ploy. Xander had woken it, and spending her will on Irallel would loosen its bonds.
Irallel pointed a corpse-green finger at Cook.
“Stop!” Astlin laced the word with her power, but it slid off Irallel’s soul.
“Begging already?” Irallel mocked. “Are you really so weak?”
The Fire blazed behind Astlin’s eyes. It screamed to be let out, straining against the confines of her body till she feared she’d burst at the seams.
“Yes. You win. Now stop.”
The water souldancer frowned. “Don’t insult me.” Ice formed at her feet and spread upstream, trapping Cook’s arms and legs. “Show me your soul.”
The Fire’s demands became lavish, vengeful promises. At this distance, it would take Cook too. Astlin wavered on the brink of surrender.
Thoughts as serene as a still pond coaxed Astlin out of the chaos. Hey, are you reading my mind? Below the calm surface, pain flared like lightning seen from orbit. I hope so, because trust me—letting Irallel goad you is a bad idea.
Irallel still pointed at her icebound victim. A quivering ball of water formed at her fingertip.
Cook!? Astlin cried silently.
That’s my name and job description.
She’ll kill you! Or I will. How can you be so calm?
Cook gave a mental shrug. Learning’s a hobby of mine. You know what I found out? There’s really not much to fear in this world. Which reminds me—is this connection two-way?
The less you know about my mind, the better, Astlin warned.
The Fire shoved a grasping claw through the widening door of its cage. Irallel’s water ball—now the size of an egg—grew cloudy with absorbed particles.
That’s fear talking, said Cook. I bet Xander knows what goes on in there. It can’t be that bad if he loves you so much.
What?
Come on. You don’t need telepathy to see it. He doesn’t hate you for coming clean, and I won’t either.
Fighting a wave of shame, Astlin showed Cook an account of her life that words couldn’t have described. She momentarily felt lighter, but fear of condemnation weighed her down.
Okay, said Cook. You’ve had a pretty hard time; made some serious mistakes. One doesn’t excuse the other, but the Fire bleeding into your soul doesn’t help.
Hot liquid welled in Astlin’s eyes. Can you…is there any forgiving what I’ve done?
Irallel’s face lit with cruel wonder. “Are you crying?” She covered her mouth to stifle bubbling laughter.
I’ve got nothing to forgive you for, said Cook, though I can’t speak for anyone else. But about that Fire—you know it’s just you, right?
If that’s true, then I’m
a rabid monster that destroys whatever it sees!
Yeah, fire does that when it’s out of control. But it can be useful too. You’re afraid to face it rationally, so it feeds on your appetites.
What does that mean?
It means you need to tame the Fire with reason—not just will. And you should do it soon, because your antipode has her elemental act together, and she’s about to kill me with it.
Cook’ calmness under threat of death awed Astlin. She turned her inner eye to face the Fire. The pain was like staring into the sun, until she realized that the sun and her eye were one and the same.
I want to burn everything, Astlin realized with growing exhilaration. I want to consume it all. But I can’t—at least not yet.
Astlin joined her will to the Fire. They spoke to Irallel with one voice. “You beat me.”
The slickness evaporated from Irallel’s mind. Once contained it was easy to mold. She paused as though deep in thought, and her face brightened.
“I am Thera’s greatest host. I will become Shaiel’s Blade and leave Hazeroth wailing in the dark!”
Astlin pointed at the tunnel. “Go tell him.”
Irallel’s arm fell to her side, dropping the cloudy trembling sphere into the pool. She left without looking back.
“Think you can get me out?” asked Cook.
Astlin splashed through ankle-deep water to Cook’s side. She knelt and released just enough heat to melt the ice. Then she donned her glove and helped him to his feet. White and purple blisters marred his skin.
“Your hands,” Astlin said.
“It’ll heal. Thanks for showing some restraint.”
“I almost didn’t. How did you stay so calm?”
Cook’s grin sweetened his homely face. “I trusted you.”
“That was stupid.”
He spread his arms. “I’m still here.”
“Serieigna!” Xander called out.
Astlin counted it among the most beautiful sounds she’d ever heard. She saw him staggering from the tunnel beside Tefler, who had his arm slung around Xander for support. Both men were soaked with water and streaked with blood. She and Cook hurried to meet them.
Astlin gently held Xander’s head. An ugly gash marred his stubbly scalp. “You’re bleeding.”
“It looks worse than it is,” he said.
Astlin glanced at the edge with mixed pangs of fear and relief. “I thought you…”
Xander playfully tugged her hair. “Think only of what is before you.”
“Irallel didn’t give you any trouble on her way out?” asked Cook.
Tefler glanced back over his shoulder. “She breezed right past us like a girl skipping to school. That reminds me—aren’t we missing someone?”
“Zan!” Astlin cried.
“Is the green lady gone?” an unseen speaker called out.
“It’s safe,” said Cook.
Astlin couldn’t help smiling as Zan rose up from below the platform. He floated several feet beyond the edge, his white hair and long blue coat tossed by the wind.
“Is the gold lady hurt?”
“I hope not,” Tefler said. “She’s flying us out of here.”
Astlin stared at the ship as if it were a sleeping monster. “I can’t do it alone.”
“I’ll help,” said the priest.
“You all need a medic,” said Astlin.
“No time. Besides, the greycloaks run the infirmary.”
Cook gently nudged Tefler. “Then it’s up to you.”
Tefler sighed. He let go of Xander and said, “Okay. Close your eyes.”
Before Astlin could ask him why, a blinding glow washed over the platform and stunned her to silence. The light felt like ants crawling over her face. When it subsided she saw Tefler standing upright. White blotches still marked Cook’s hands, but the blisters were gone. Much to her relief, the cut on Xander’s scalp had faded to a jagged pink line. The older wound on his arm had vanished.
Astlin stared at the priest. “Was that—?”
“Prana.” Tefler shivered. “I hate handling the stuff.”
Cook patted him on the back. “Thanks.”
“Even if the greycloaks missed the flood,” said Xander, “they must have seen that. We should go.”
Tefler and Cook followed him onto the ship, but Astlin stopped at the foot of the ramp.
Xander stood atop the gangway, his arm outstretched. “Freedom is just a few more steps away.”
Astlin still hesitated. She and the Fire had joined forces, but she knew their truce was fragile.
Zan landed beside her. “Have you flown before?”
“Just an ether-runner.”
“I will help you.”
Even for a souldancer, Zan was weird. But his presence eased Astlin’s mind. She needed all the help she could get, and he might be able to restrain her if she lost control again.
The souldancers ascended the ramp together.
26
Xander led the search for the Kerioth’s bridge by the sparse green glow of recessed lights. The gloom and the corridors’ unfamiliar layout forced him to mind his steps.
“I thought you were in a hurry,” Tefler said.
Xander stopped. “I cannot hurry on a way I don’t know.”
“Hang left; then go straight.”
“How do you know that?”
“It’s on the sign.”
“You see a sign?”
“You don’t?” Tefler asked. “Why are you leading?”
Astlin preempted further argument. “What are you?”
“What do you mean?” Tefler sounded defensive.
“You can see in the dark,” she said.
“So can you and Zan.”
“That is her point,” said Xander. “You also manifested prana—odd for Shaiel’s priest.”
“I’m not really a priest of Shaiel,” Tefler said. “Not anymore.”
“You serve the true God?”
“I serve Thera.”
Xander rounded on Tefler. “That is nothing to joke about!”
“What?” the priest complained. “She’s the goddess of life—Shaiel’s opposite.”
“She is a murderess and the Mother of Demons. If she’s not Shaiel himself; she conspires with him!”
“Get your blasphemy straight,” Tefler said. “Shaiel hates Thera. The Lawbringers say she betrayed him.”
“A lie to mislead you—or perhaps Shaiel. Still, betraying another demon doesn’t make Thera just.”
“Xander’s got a point,” said Cook.
Astlin shouldered her way to the head of the group. “Let’s just find the bridge.”
Xander and the others followed her ringing steps in the direction that Tefler had pointed out. The path ended at a set of doors. Astlin opened them, stepped inside, and screamed.
Xander charged through the door. He nearly ran into Astlin, who stood motionless just inside the entrance.
“What is wrong?”
Astlin didn’t reply. Her staring eyes shone in the lightless room.
Xander strained to see what held her transfixed. He discerned shadowy movement—blind mechanical repetition performed by twisted shapes with the semblance of flesh. A disturbing smell asserted itself.
“Get out,” Astlin said in a curt monotone.
Xander backed out of the room. The doors closed, leaving him and his comrades waiting in the half-light. Alarms blared, and the emerald haze turned bright red.
Astlin emerged with halting steps, followed by oily acrid smoke.
“I burned them all.”
Xander wrapped his arms around her. She made no sound as her body shuddered against his.
Finally she laid her head on his chest. “Was it wrong?”
Xander gently stroked the back of Astlin’s head. “God alone can judge, Serieigna.”
“I thought I was insane. But their thoughts…writhing spirals…”
“I hate to interrupt,” Tefler said, “but we really have to go.�
�
Astlin’s eyes pleaded more urgently than her voice. “I can’t go back in there.”
Embracing Astlin was like holding fire and metal given life. That she sought Xander’s protection humbled him, and gave him new resolve.
“I will.”
“You don’t know how to fly,” said Cook.
Xander cupped Astlin’s face. “You do. Teach me.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Try.”
Astlin hesitated for a moment. Then she held Xander’s head and closed her eyes.
It started as a stream of dry facts, like pages turning in his mind.
“I see it, but I do not understand.”
“Wait,” said Astlin. “I have to go deeper.”
Xander recalled his father—a licensed steersman from Keth.
No. My father made mirrors.
“Don’t fight me,” said Astlin.
He remembered flying to Mithgar and how his father would sometimes let him take the Wheel. Pride warmed his breast.
But that was so long ago.
Bittersweet nostalgia became bleak loneliness. Years passed. His father left on a voyage and never came home.
“Are you all right?” Cook asked from somewhere miles away.
Nothing was all right. They were alone, and no one would help. Peace and freedom vanished as Neriad’s lengthening absences left Nadia in Xander’s care.
One night they came for him.
Astlin’s eyes shot open. Her fear was palpable. “It won’t stop!”
Xander endured days and weeks of semi-consciousness, punctuated by visits from men in dark suits. The jackets became robes, and the world devolved into pain.
Strong hands grabbed Xander from behind. He knew Cook’s voice but couldn’t make out the words. Tefler tried to pull Astlin back but only succeeded with Zan’s help.
A part of Xander’s mind knew what was happening and greeted his separation from Astlin with relief. But physical distance didn’t impede their bond. Xander crawled through layers of rock and dirt, clawing his way upward in the dark. Startled from sleep, he touched a young boy’s face and watched it melt from his skull.
He thrashed against his rescuers. “Don’t let me touch you!”
Fear and sorrow gave way to torment and loathing. He wanted to dash his brains out against a wall. He wanted to explode.
“Do something!” someone said—perhaps in a dream.
Souldancer (Soul Cycle Book 2) Page 20