Soul of the World

by David Mealing

  Another boom, this time closer.

  “That’s coming from inside the Citadel,” Acherre said.

  Muffled shouting came from the hallway beyond the door, followed by another peal of thunder and rattling of the walls.

  “Prepare yourself, Lance-Lieutenant,” she said. “The Shelter barrier should protect us as well as it imprisons. But if the priestess falls, the barrier won’t sustain itself.”

  More shouting from outside the door. Closer.

  “Here!” a voice cried. The same priestess who had rebuked them before. “They’re in here!”

  “Open it then,” a voice called. A gruff voice. A familiar voice.

  By the Gods themselves. He couldn’t. Even he wasn’t that stupid.

  The ironbound door swung open to reveal Foot-Captain Marquand, holding the brown-robed priestess by the arm.

  “Good afternoon, Chevalier-General,” Marquand said, grinning.

  “You wine-sodden fool. What do you think you’re doing?”

  “The way I see it, what’s a little prison break when we’re already committed to treason? This way, you can leave me the bloody fuck out of your work.”

  Acherre stepped forward. “You murdered the Citadel guards?”

  Marquand raised his free hand in a warding gesture. “Just a few Entropy bindings. No one hurt, so long as they cooperate.” He said the last while tightening his grip on the priestess’s arm, eliciting a whimper.

  “Oh let her go, Marquand,” she said, shaking her head. “You truly are an incurable bastard.”

  “Yes, sir,” he replied, eyes gleaming.

  She sighed, stepping forward.

  “Let’s go, Acherre. We have work to do.”

  44

  ARAK’JUR

  Approaching Nanek’Hai’Tyat

  Nanerat Land

  Bones. He lifted a blackened femur with a delicate touch. He’d feared the worst when they’d glimpsed the charred remains of some creature here among the permanent snowfall atop the Nanerat peaks. No fear needed now: He knew it for a certainty. These were bones from a man.

  “Asseena’s work?” he asked.

  “It may be so,” Corenna replied. “Perhaps they tracked the last of Arak’Atan’s warriors here, into the peaks.”

  He frowned, setting the bone back down amid the scorched earth. A dignified end, if it were true; whatever scavengers lived here, so high up the mountainside, had been at the corpse. Some Jintani warrior, feeding the circle of Nanerat life, left to stand where he died.

  That, or a lightning storm. It was not beyond possibility, and had been his first thought when they saw the blackened earth that had melted away the snow. Only the bones made him think twice. But if there had been pursuit here, on the very peak leading to their sacred place, would Asseena not have revealed it when he asked after Arak’Atan? Searching here had been his notion. A troubling thought, if there was more to her tribe’s conflict with the Jintani than she had let on. Perhaps it was only a storm after all.

  The peaks of the Nanerat towered above the foothills. On an overcast day, the summits pierced the heart of the sky, extending past the cover of the clouds. According to the Nanerat tribesmen, those were places for the spirits, certain death to any who attempted to scale their heights. Some few of the others could be scaled, and this was one such. One of the sacred mountains, set aside for the Nanerat by the spirits themselves. Having made the ascent he could well believe it. The twisting paths and switchbacks that covered the peak seemed to have been crafted to allow for the frailties of men. Treacherous, yes, and demanding of respect, but always under the protective gaze of the spirits. One could not help but feel their presence in this place. He and Corenna climbed higher, watched the world below dwindle, and he found himself overcome with its beauty. This was a place of peace and meditation, a place to let oneself be awed by the land, humbled before the power of the natural world. Even as a hunter, here to shed blood, the majesty of the peaks had a magic unto itself, older and deeper than any gift of the spirits.

  Trees grew thin as they climbed, until they were replaced by sparse brush, clawing for survival through a layer of permanent snow. Even the air seemed thinner, a sensation he had not expected. The guardian’s gift made him strong, but he felt the need to breathe deep and often, and Corenna fared somewhat worse. From the beginning she’d requested they take stops to allow her to rest, to conserve her strength for the climb. He trusted to her knowledge—she had made the climb before—and did so without complaint. She’d wrapped herself in a Nanerat design of thick hides and furs she insisted left her surprisingly nimble, though he remained skeptical of the protection it offered from the cold. For himself, simple leggings, bare skin, and the blessings of the spirits sufficed, and if he would never claim Corenna was weak, still it could be said the strength of her gifts lay elsewhere. The winds were cruel and sharp here, and he was sure she felt every tooth of their bite.

  Four days. And every one, he rebuked himself for allowing Corenna to join this hunt. She’d never hear it, if he gave voice to his concerns, and he kept silent. Yet for all the power she brought to bear through the women’s gifts, she risked her life making this ascent. The spirits of the Nanerat had been cruel indeed to force such trials on their women, keeping their sacred place high atop these peaks. Yet Asseena and her ilk had made this journey in reverence, knowing wisdom and power awaited them at the summit. Corenna expected only blood, and still pushed on.

  “Arak’Jur,” she called, pointing up ahead.

  “Another path?” he asked. Then he saw it.

  A boulder, near the size of a man, lay ahead. Only instead of resting along the steep mountainside, threatening to cascade down to cause an avalanche or worse, it hovered a handspan or more above the snow, suspended in air. He looked again to confirm it, and it was so: No part of the stone touched the ground.

  A moment of silence passed between them.

  “Nanek’Hai’Tyat,” Corenna whispered.

  “Yes,” he said. “We draw near.”

  They exchanged a look, and he saw grim determination in Corenna’s eyes. No more needed be said. Whatever fatigue might have settled in as they made the day’s climb was gone in an instant.

  They pressed on, winding their way around the slopes on paths just wide enough, as if they’d been cut to allow their passage. And everywhere they saw the signs. Stones and clumps of earth floated around them, gliding through the air as if it were water. Always the land was altered near a place of the spirits, but he had never seen such a display as this. As they curved around the face of the mountain, more earth and snow seemed to be suspended in the air than lay beneath their feet. No sign of such had been visible from below, yet here it was. They spiraled around the path, moving upward until, at last, they crested the final rise.

  At the far side of a field of floating stone and snow, one last spire rose to the sky, with a black cave opening etched into its side. The entrance to Nanek’Hai’Tyat.

  They’d arrived.

  And they’d found their quarry.

  Arak’Atan stood, waiting, in the middle of the field, flanked by a pair of full-grown ipek’a. Arak’Jur stepped forward, placing himself between Corenna and the deadly beasts.

  “Be welcome, friends from the South,” Arak’Atan called. “The spirits have whispered to me of your coming, and so long as you mean to join yourself to their cause, you have nothing to fear here.”

  He eyed the man warily, darting glances back and forth between the Jintani guardian and the ipek’a at his sides. The sight exposed a raw nerve. Great beasts could not be tamed; they lived to kill, the manifestation of the raw destructive power of the wild. And yet here they stood, long necks twisted to focus their hawkish eyes on the newcomers, seemingly content to be still and observe. Their feathers were white, which meant neither had made a kill in some time. By rights they should have slain Arak’Atan on the spot and trumpeted the news of their victory as a warning to any creatures lurking nearby. Arak’Jur knew the w
ays of ipek’a; he had worn that skin himself, by the grace of the spirits. Yet neither beast moved, only watched and waited.

  “How have you done this, Arak’Atan?” he called, still warding Corenna behind him. “Ipek’a is no companion to men.”

  “Much has changed for our people, and our gifts. The ipek’a and I serve the same cause. If you serve it as well, you will find us welcome allies.”

  The unspoken threat hung in the air, bolstered by the reserved posture of the Jintani guardian.

  “You make war on the Nanerat,” Corenna called back to him, managing to keep her voice neutral.

  “I do.”

  Even from a distance, he could feel Arak’Atan’s gaze studying them, weighing them against some hidden expectation. The ipek’a seemed to do the same, mimicking the guardian’s posture. Ipek’a was a fierce predator, but they were little more than that. When he had worn its skin, the ipek’a spirit had never revealed the curious, burning intelligence he saw now, lurking behind these creatures’ eyes. Was this in their nature? Had some part of it been kept from him? He couldn’t believe it. Something else was at work here.

  He looked again, and whatever was behind those eyes dawned with understanding at the same moment he saw it for what it was. Evil. Madness.

  The ipek’a trumpeted a warning blast that echoed across the mountaintop, scattering floating motes of snow and earth before the sheer force of its call.

  Arak’Atan made an exaggerated sigh.

  “It seems you do not share our cause, brother. I take it our honored sister stands with you as well.”

  “We stand against war and madness, Arak’Atan,” Corenna called back.

  The Jintani guardian nodded as if he had expected no less.

  Without warning, one of the ipek’a launched itself into the air, crashing through the floating stones as if they were no more than nettling thistle. Arak’Jur sprang away from where it would land, keeping watch on Arak’Atan and the first ipek’a, still gnashing its jaws after letting loose its thundering cry. Corenna remained where she was. In the moment his heart surged with a desire to call upon lakiri’in, to race back and defend her. Just as quick he reminded himself she was more than capable of seeing to her own protection. His calling was as guardian, but to be overmindful of Corenna was to hamstring them both. He knew it, and cordoned off the portion of his mind that worried for her safety. Time now to look to his own gifts, and trust that she could handle her part.

  The ipek’a landed, crashing full force into a barrier of stone Corenna conjured above her head at the last instant. A sickening screech as it swiped its scything claw across the stone, then a crunch as the rest of its massive body collided into her shield. Yes, Corenna could manage.

  He shifted his focus back to Arak’Atan. The other guardian made a wordless snarl as the first of his beast companions rolled to the ground, dazed. A nimbus of cat surrounded the Jintani guardian. Mareh’et. A powerful gift, one that Arak’Jur preferred to save until need was dire. It seemed Arak’Atan had no such predilections. Even so, it could be countered with speed.

  The Jintani guardian, joined by the other great beast, lowered his head and charged at Corenna. Arak’Jur called upon lakiri’in, and his limbs surged with energy. He raced across the field, taking Arak’Atan with a shoulder charge at full speed.

  The two men collided, rolling together into a puff of snow floating at chest height. No time to consider what the other ipek’a was doing; Corenna would see it coming, and be on guard. He slammed a fist into Arak’Atan’s jaw before the other man could react, his limbs still surging with speed. Before they hit the ground he rained a succession of blows on Arak’Atan, with time enough to set himself for the counterattack he knew would come. And come it did. What mareh’et lacked in pure speed he made up for in the gift of his ethereal claws. Arak’Atan landed one savage cut across his left torso, with a second strike missing his head only for their crashing together into the dirt.

  A lance of pain tore through him as blood sprayed into the snow, and another arcing cut went for his shoulder as they tangled together on the ground. He twisted inside the other man’s guard, landing another rain of blows to deflect the striking arm. Arak’Atan returned a backhanded slash, enough to send him sailing into the air with another rip across the chest. He sprang to his feet the moment he landed, still surging with lakiri’in’s gift, and raced forward before Arak’Atan had risen to his knees.

  An instant before he crashed into the Jintani guardian, he called upon una’re, the Great Bear. This time there was no rain of blows, only a single, savage strike connecting with Arak’Atan’s left eye socket.

  Hissing and popping accompanied the blow as electricity surged into Arak’Atan. Pockmarks scored the side of his face, and his eye split into pulp around Arak’Jur’s fist. A full-strength hit carrying una’re’s blessing would end a fight with any lesser man, but Arak’Atan carried the guardian’s gift. No sooner had the first sparks crackled over his skin than the Jintani guardian blinked out of existence, like a fire snuffed by sand. One moment he was there, on the receiving end of Arak’Jur’s strike, and the next he had vanished. Arak’Jur struck again for surety, to verify the man had not employed the gift of juna’ren to camouflage himself in plain sight, and met only air and snow.

  “Astahg!” he cried out, for Corenna’s benefit. “The gift of astahg is to vanish and reappear. Stay on your guard.”

  He sprang to his feet, turning to survey the rest of the fight. Corenna had held off the charge of the second ipek’a with another shield of stone, and switched now to her gift of ice to go on the attack. The great birdlike creatures howled as she peppered them with massive shards of deadly ice, enough to forestall any instinct they might have had to spring toward her.

  Scanning the field, he saw no sign of Arak’Atan. He needed to get close to Corenna, to guard her back against an unseen strike. Maintaining una’re’s gift meant he would be too slow to cover the distance. With lakiri’in spent, that meant mareh’et.

  He raced toward her, channeling the cat spirit. A gamble, if Arak’Atan could wait out mareh’et’s blessing, but one he had to take.

  He closed the distance, still without sign of Arak’Atan. Just as well. If the other man thought to recover himself it meant Arak’Jur could field his gifts against the ipek’a. He took one of them from behind, tearing through its feathery hide even as Corenna provided distracting shots of ice to hold the beast’s attention. It went down into the snow, a desperate bleating cry stilling in the creature’s throat as it died.

  “Down!” he shouted. Too late.

  Arak’Atan had reappeared behind Corenna and caught her with a swift kick that took her legs out from beneath her, sending her into the snow. Shoving one of the floating stones out of his way, Arak’Jur sped toward them, forcing the other man to back away before he could land a killing strike. He watched as Arak’Atan’s form shifted colors, blending into the haze of white and red, snow and blood. Juna’ren’s blessing. He would have to stay near Corenna until she recovered her footing; a second unseen strike could well be fatal, especially while she was down.

  By now the second ipek’a realized the shards of ice had ceased, and recovered enough to make another trumpet blast, this time less steady, less sure without the backing of its fallen pack mate. Arak’Jur called upon the juna’ren’s gift as well, feeling his form blend into the landscape behind him. Two could play at hiding.

  The remaining ipek’a bobbed its head around the floating motes of snow, peering toward where he stood at Corenna’s side. But the great beast would see only the fallen form of the woman who had just pelted it with a dozen icy spears. She’d risen to her knees, propping herself up in the heartbeats it took for him to close the gap. Enough time for the ipek’a to push off with its powerful hind legs, propelling itself upward, aiming to fall atop her with deadly precision.

  He moved aside, on full alert for Arak’Atan. With only juna’ren’s blessing he couldn’t withstand the force of an ipek’a
’s leap.

  Corenna seemed to sense the danger, rolling onto her side and filming her eyes over with pale blue. A concentrated gale of wind whipped into the ipek’a even as it crashed toward her, and he saw its innards torn open, entrails spilling down onto Corenna where she lay, pinning her to the ground. As opportune a moment as Arak’Atan was like to get. Sure enough, the Jintani guardian appeared in midair sailing toward her, having called upon the blessing of ipek’a himself.

  Without thinking, Arak’Jur did the same, invoking ipek’a’s gift and launching himself into the sky.

  The two men collided at full force, grappling each other as they plummeted to the ground. They struck the snow and bounced apart, each man rolling to his feet. Arak’Jur leaned back on his legs, trusting the blessing of ipek’a to hold for another flying leap. He pushed off, sailing toward Arak’Atan, expecting the other man to do the same.

  Instead, the Jintani guardian held his ground, locking his remaining good eye on Arak’Jur. His pupil went red, bright red. The color of fire.

  Women’s magic. Impossible.

  A spear of flame seared the air around him, and he felt his skin crack and burn as he crashed into the ground, skidding helplessly to land at Arak’Atan’s feet. Pain enveloped him, a desperate stabbing pain coming from every inch of his body, salved only by the gentle cooling of the snow.

  Arak’Atan stepped toward him, his left eye a mash of bloody flesh, his right eye filmed over with a red glow. Hatred twisted Arak’Atan’s gaze, and the Jintani guardian raised a hand, invoking another torrent of fire to scour the ground before him. When the flames cleared, Arak’Jur had fallen still.

  Arak’Atan exhaled sharply, dropping to a knee beside his body.

  A long moment passed, and Arak’Jur did not stir.

  “You see, honored guardian,” Arak’Atan said, “much has changed, by the will of the spirits.”

  Arak’Jur released the gift of anahret, setting aside their perfect semblance of death, and took up the gift of the valak’ar. His joints screamed pain as the serpent granted its blessing, his skin flaking and cracked from the fire. But he found strength enough to reach upward, striking through the Jintani guardian’s skin to inject the wraith-snake’s deadly poison into his heart.