“That’s some philosophy. I’m glad it’s working for you.”
“You should try it when the evil spirits settle. By the way, I’m glad we have an extra set of eyes.” Iraine leaned forward and gave Thing One a scratch.
Iraine was one of the Prison Guards Nulthir had elevated when he’d been promoted. Without her sunny disposition and endless store of humor, he might not have lasted this long in the Guards. And he might have gifted his long-time friend a few harmless magical misfits over the years.
“Maybe you should try since you’re guaranteed to be saved.” Huwain held the vial of holy water out to Iraine, but she shook her head.
“No, that water was blessed for you. It’ll be more powerful in your hands, but I’ll stand with you and bless them.” Iraine climbed over Lurston and spurred two others who were sealed by the sign of the cross to do likewise.
“Ready?”
“On the count of three.”
“One.”
Shadows threaded through the crowd brandishing claws.
“Two.”
“Hurry! They mean to block you. Bless the crowd!”
“Three.”
Come, Children of Light
“How did you do it? How did you enslave so many?” J.C. stared in horrified fascination. Is sin that powerful? Or is something else at work here? The Adversary can’t have entranced so many by just whispering. He must have some other hold over them.
J.C. approached the crowd still flowing by in an unending stream, but he stumbled as the cross ground into his shoulder, and his legs quaked with the effort of holding him up. Evil rolled off the Adversary in black waves only perceptible to his divine eyes, and it repelled him. But he trudged toward the sinners he’d come to save spurred by the sparks of rebellion popping and fizzing here and there among the masses.
They were the seeds of repentance. All they needed was a little light to bloom. Come children of light. Your repentance is in sight.
“Papa? What’s wrong?”
Ran’s voice rose in fear stopping J.C. in his tracks. He turned in time to see Sarn slide down a wall still holding his now squirming son.
“Papa?”
“Why’s Papa darkening?”
Ran looked at J.C., his little face pale with fright, and the sight squeezed his heart. Inky fingers stretched out of Sarn’s collar and crawled up the long column of his throat.
J.C. frowned at them, and his eyes widened in alarm.
“A mind divided cannot stand against the Adversary. Neither can a heart. So that’s how he did it.” J.C. shook his head, still floored by the realization.
“What do you mean by ‘divided?’” Ran leaned into his father’s chest and pushed on the moving marks, but not even the soft glow of his little fingers could stop their progress.
“I don’t understand it either. To be a curse breaker, he had to negate one of the curses he was born under. How could he do that then turn around and reject that power?”
“You think this ‘Adversary’ person’s doing it, don’t you?”
J.C. nodded. A white flame guttered inside Sarn. If it snuffed out, he’d lose the ability to break curses.
“What’s a curse?”
“It’s a lie.” At Ran’s confused scowl, J.C. elaborated. “To curse someone, you must bind them to a lie. Curse breakers do the opposite—they unmake lies and return everything to true.” J.C. leaned against a wall and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “That’s how the Adversary did it.”
“Did what?”
“Slaved so many to his will. Somehow, he brought them all into his darkness and bound them to a lie, but that shouldn’t be possible by just whispering.”
But things were off-balance here. Something had robbed this place and its people of something intrinsic, and that lack made them vulnerable. What’s missing?
“Ran, did something happen here recently?”
“We fought a monster, but we had Bear’s help. Is that what you mean? It had many arms.”
J.C. considered that until a prayer commanded his attention. Somewhere close by, four Guards blessed the enthralled passersby with a vial of holy water. He raised his hand and magnified their prayer.
“Come children of light. Your repentance is in sight. I am the light of the world. My light sets all to right. Come children of light. Your repentance is in sight. Free the darkened mind, shine brightly. Give the blind eye right sight. Come children of light. Your repentance is in sight.”
As he prayed with those Guardsmen and women, his human skin peeled away allowing his divine light to shine in the darkness. It coruscated on those holy drops showering part of the blank-eyed throng. And those the drops dampened woke from the nightmare the Adversary had imprisoned them in, but they were caught in the crowd’s flow and couldn’t escape without being trampled by the thousands in the ranks behind.
“Papa can’t lie, or break promises, but he can fight monsters. You need Papa’s help.” Ran said, bringing J.C. back to the tunnel and his body.
His aura receded. If the child noticed, his worried face didn’t show it.
“What did you say? My mind was miles away. Forgive me.”
Ran repeated his statement and nodded as if this all made sense to the perceptive boy. No doubt the Adversary seemed like one more monster to defeat. Ran touched the marks aiming for his father’s eyes. Already their glow was dimming.
“Yes, I can’t intervene unless invited thanks to a covenant your ancestors made with my Father.”
One corner of his mouth quirked up as more voices added to the prayers winging his way. Each one was an invitation. But the one he needed must come from the young mage trapped between two choices.
Maybe Sarn could unmake the lie slaving everyone to the Adversary’s will if his beliefs were strong enough. J.C. sagged under the weight of his cross. But Sarn couldn’t do that unless he accepted his magic. Curse breaking was a variant of white magic. Unlike elemental magic, white magic was powered by belief. Before Sarn could do anything with that power, he had to first believe in himself. And that didn't look likely.
“Can you help him?”
J.C. shook his head. “Your father doesn’t need help. He needs to decide whether to reject his magic or accept it. Every mage must decide which truth to embrace. All you can do is wait.”
Thorns bit into his brow and nails pierced his hands and feet, as J.C. pushed off the wall determined to find a crack in the darkness obscuring those entranced souls. Light always found a way, and so would he.
After all, life was full of loopholes. Sarn and his son were one. There must be others. Even if the Queen of All Trees didn’t think so.
“I shouldn’t have involved you. I didn’t know you hadn’t faced the Question yet. That’s the price I pay for closing my eyes to the future.”
As J.C. passed the stricken mage, he laid a hand on Sarn’s head. Sarn looked so young and lost slumped in the Adversary’s invisible grasp. I pray you make the right decision for you and your son.
Hope still burned in his chest both for mankind and the sinners trapped in the Adversary’s nightmare.
As J.C.’s spirit stepped out of his body, his divine light illuminated the tunnel, but none of the staring marchers noticed. They filled the tunnel perpendicular to this one.
J.C.’s spirit flew, and he threw wide his arms to embrace them. Come children of light. Your repentance is in sight. You’re perfect in your imperfections. Forgive yourself for your failings and repent them. Come, and I will give you rest. I bless you, for you are mine, and I am yours. Come children of light. Your repentance is in sight.
He touched the wedge of vacant-eyed people, but the Adversary’s hold over them was too strong. They passed like clouds over the sun of his presence, blind to everything except the lies the Adversary fed them.
There must be one among them who repents. So, his spirit glided onward through the half-destroyed tunnel leading to a battered shield.
J.C. didn’t hear a grating sound disturb t
he quiet nor Ran’s shout of alarm as a metal plate in the ceiling slid aside.
Dirk rushed through the hole in the shield calling his friends’ names. “Villar? Ragnes? Cris? Gore? Where are you?”
“They’re down there.”
The Adversary pointed to the chasm. His body flickered and split. Half of him sprouted wings and flew off while the other half floated at Dirk’s side like an empty, staring vessel. It was disconcerting.
“Down where? I can’t see anything in this gloom,” Dirk asked, not expecting an answer.
The Adversary shuddered as he animated. “How weak mortal eyes are.” He held out a clawed hand.
A ball of light jumped off his palm and floated to Dirk. Before it reached him, it doubled and split, but half of it vanished into a puff of smoke. The other half followed Dirk as he wove around man-sized rocks shaped like teeth, seeking a safe descent into the pit. Behind him, the Adversary stilled again and hung there like a disembodied corpse.
Maybe he’ll stay that way for a while, so I can save my friends. Dirk suppressed a smile.
A set of irregular stairs were cut into the stone wall of the chasm by the Litherians. They had no regard for safety, so the stairs had no rail nor any real order. Steps were placed at random. No two were the same width, height or distance from the one before it. The Litherians were the greatest stone mages of their age, but they couldn’t make a decent staircase to save their lives.
Dirk cursed those ancient builders as he centered his balance and stepped down, but his foot struck a hard object instead of the step. Light cascaded upward, and he screamed as fire seared his foot. Dirk teetered and would have fallen into that killing blaze if a skeletal hand hadn’t seized a handful of his tunic.
Dirk hopped on one foot, afraid to look at or put any weight on his singed appendage until a cool hand touched his throbbing foot. It leeched the pain but left the charred meat alone.
“Can you stand?” asked the Adversary.
Who knew he could heal. Flabbergasted, Dirk could just set his blackened foot down and very slowly, put weight on it. His leg quivered but held his weight. Nor did his injured foot complain. In fact, he couldn’t feel anything below his ankle.
“What happened?”
“Did you think she’d just put up a single shield?”
Well, he hadn’t thought about anything except finding his friends. “What now? I must go down there. How do we get through that shield?”
“Watch and learn.” The Adversary smiled, and it was sharp and slanted like a scythe as he gestured to the blank-eyed crowd gathering around the chasm.
Dirk’s heart sank as he regarded them. He closed his eyes not wanting to see what would happen next.
“Oh, but you must see. Every sacrifice needs a witness.”
Invisible hands, colder than ice, plucked at Dirk’s eyelids, prying them open. He tried to close them, but they forced his eyes open.
The half of the Adversary still in this cavern had become transparent and thin. If he turned sideways, he’d vanish into a shadow. Looking at him made Dirk’s eyes ache, but he couldn’t look away. The Adversary floated out into the center of the pit and smiled when the shield didn’t react to his presence.
“And why would it? I’m but a spirit passing through this plane,” said the Adversary as if he’d read Dirk’s mind. Then he threw his arms wide. “Come, sinners, to your dark Father fly. Come, sinners, claim the peace long-denied.”
The Adversary’s quiet voice echoed in blood and bone, propelling Dirk to step forward when the first row did. Only a glance from those cold eyes stopped him in his tracks, but not the first row of thralls. They stepped off the edge, and the shield flared.
Tears tracked down Dirk’s face as they vanished into a puff of smoke. The Queen of All Trees must know. She’d made the shield. She must sense the people throwing themselves at it. So why didn’t she stop it?
“Sinners fly, and sinners fall, the ones dear to me hear my call. Fly sinners, I won’t let you fall. Come, dear sinners, heed my call.”
Dirk turned away as the Adversary waggled his skeletal fingers like a conductor directing an orchestra—or a mage weaving a wicked spell. He was trapped with a mad spirit of incredible power who was bent on sacrificing thousands of poor Indentured souls.
They pushed past Dirk, moaning in ecstasy as they threw themselves off the edge into the white fire jetting up from the chasm. Its clean light reduced them to ashes before they could even scream. Over all that death, the Adversary floated, still now that his spell was set. His skeletal hands hung at his sides and his head lolled as the Adversary shifted his focus to somewhere outside of the Ægeldar.
This is my chance, now while he’s distracted. But his chance for what? Dirk limped through the crowd, moving against its implacable current. He fell three times before gaining even a few precious feet away from the light that kills. The silent screams of the dead echoed in his soul. What can I do against such senseless death?
“Are your friends worth such a price?”
“Who said that?” Dirk climbed up a rubble pile until he could see beyond the crowd.
Shadows shifted to block the lone exit. So there’s no escape after all. He shook his head, though he’d expected as much. The Adversary wasn’t one to leave things to chance.
Just as he was beginning to give up hope, a gleaming white cross appeared in the crowd and in its light, there was the suggestion of a crucified man. Dirk fell to his knees before a power for good.
“I don’t deserve your help, but give it anyway, Divine One, for their sakes. They’re innocent. Help me set things right. I didn’t mean for things to go so wrong. I just wanted to make a little coin to set by. What’s the harm in that? I’ve worked hard for four decades and I have nothing but a ratty blanket and a drafty cave to show for it. Please help me make this right.”
“Come, child of light, your repentance is in sight.”
“Can’t you stop this?”
“I would stop it, but free will trumps all. Your greed set this in motion. You must cast the first stone. Child of light, your repentance is in sight.”
The Crucified Man’s right arm swept over the crowd and stopped when his index finger pointed at a wiry man with white whiskers moving against the crowd.
That man rushed away from the Ægeldar and the shield flaring up to kill every person who threw himself into its heart. But how was that possible? How could he escape that summons?
As if he heard Dirk’s unspoken question, the aberrant man paused to take his bearings. It was Jersten. Dirk dropped from the rubble pile to the ground and gave chase. Thank you, whoever you are, I know what I must do.
I Know How to Stop It
“What was that?” Ran cringed as the grating sound grew louder. When J.C. didn’t respond, he tore his gaze away from the widening hole in the ceiling and searched the tunnel. He found J.C. standing stock-still. His eyes were pure light, but J.C.’s mind wasn’t ‘home.’
“Papa? Please wake up. I need you.”
Papa’s arm curled around him, but he remained silent and staring—not good. “Bear? Can you hear me? If you can, please come help me.” But just in case the fickle spirit failed to show, Ran fumbled in his pocket for his slingshot.
The metal plate slid aside revealing a gray-eyed woman crouched beside the opening above their heads. When Ran saw her, he smiled.
“Rat Woman!”
Ran rushed to her, but her smile upon seeing him changed to horror, stopping Ran in his tracks.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Ran spun then he backed up until his calves bumped into Papa’s long legs. He sat on Papa’s lap, his gaze fastened on the crowd.
A contingent had broken off and was heading toward them. A shadow led them—likely one of the Adversary’s many henchmen. Its head turned, scanning the tunnel, but its black-on-black eyes skipped over Ran.
He let out a shaky breath in relief. Something’s hiding me.
“Give me your hands, and I’ll pul
l you up. Hurry.” Rat Woman reached down, but Ran clung to his staring father and shook his head.
“I won’t go without Papa.”
“Then I’ll come to you.” Rat Woman dropped through the hole and landed in a crouch. She pulled something from behind her and held out a ratty-looking bear. Ran’s eyes lit up, and he rushed to her with his arms outstretched.
“Bear!” Ran hugged his toy then hugged Rat Woman. She smiled fondly at him as they embraced. When they separated, he tugged her hand.
“Help Papa. A bad man cast a spell on him.”
“Come on, brother, throw this off. You’ve got to move.”
Auntie Sovvan flickered into view beside Papa as the blackness gobbled up the glow of his left eye then it ate the whites too. When Ran stretched out a finger to touch that matt black orb, Auntie Sovvan batted his hand away.
“Don’t touch it. I don’t think it can spread to you, my spotless lamb, but let’s not temp the Adversary, okay?”
Ran stared at her for a moment. What's a ‘spotless lamb?' He put the question aside for later. “Auntie Sovvan, why’s the Adversary testing Papa?”
Ran squeezed Bear, but Bear didn’t squeeze back. Why aren’t you here Bear? Bear’s eyes stayed dark and devoid of intelligence. The spirit guide wasn’t ‘home' either, but holding his fuzzy vessel comforted Ran. Maybe the ghost will come back.
“Not so much testing as tempting. Power can corrupt or cleanse. It’s up to the mage, which.” The angel tapped her temple. “The fight’s all in here.”
“Can you help?”
She shook her head regretfully. “I can only whisper and hope the devil doesn’t drown me out. Help me whisper.”
“No, Papa!” Ran broke from Rat Woman’s hold. Papa was reaching toward the shadow rushing toward them.
Curse Breaker: Books 1-4 Page 102