Jar of Souls

by Bradford Bates

  I looked down the rolling hills and out into the night. The moon was full and bathed the open fields in a gentle light. At first I wasn’t sure if I was actually seeing something or if my mind was simply playing tricks on me. Small black shapes were running through the field; it couldn’t be what I thought it was. I watched until they grew close enough to be sure, and then I let out a sigh. “Just once I’d love to actually make it back to the girl.”

  The Lycans were picking up speed as they moved closer to the chateau, and there was no way that I could stop them all alone. All I could do was slow as many of them down as I could, and maybe if I was extremely lucky, it would save enough lives to matter.

  They continued to run toward the chateau. Three of the Lycans peeled off to the right, and I watched them circle around to the front of the building. I jumped over the low stone fence that signaled the edge of the property and walked slowly down toward the rushing werewolves. By my count, there were still six Lycans sprinting toward me. This was going to be fun, if one considered suicidal battles to be a joyous occasion.

  I started to pull my power inward as I focused on their approach. They never veered or spread apart as they continued their mad sprint straight at me. Something was wrong; there was no way that a true pack wouldn’t make it harder for me to attack more than one of them at a time. I bathed my hands in bright blue flames, making my presence known. The beasts continued to run directly for me without making a sound. Something was most certainly wrong. They should have been howling and splitting apart. Instead they continued on as if I didn’t even exist.

  Where were the howls that normally signaled a Lycan attack? Where were the growling, slobbering yips that signaled the hunt? When the thrill of a kill was upon them, it should have been instinctual for them to make some noise in response to my challenge. If they weren’t going to take me seriously, I was just going to have to show them why they needed to reconsider.

  I pooled the flames into a large ball and cast it out toward the eerily silent pack. It struck in the center of their V formation, engulfing all of them. What in the hell had just happened? There was no way werewolves would just run through a fireball. If it didn’t kill them outright, the pain caused from the burns wouldn’t be worth taking when it could have easily been avoided. Again the beasts made no sound even as their bodies burned.

  I watched in growing horror and fascination as they continued their mindless silent charge up the hill. The flaming Lycans continued to run directly at me even as the fire consumed them. What could possibly be driving these creatures so hard? What could possibly push them into this suicidal run? I had come out here thinking I might die, and it looked as if I might actually have the upper hand.

  The night grew brighter as their flaming bodies drew closer to the chateau. The flames had started to burn themselves out as the skin and fur they clung to charred away. I created a lance of pure power and sent it toward the Lycan leading the charge. It ripped through its body, cutting it in half as it ran. The other werewolves never even slowed down. If anything, they only drew closer together as they continued their charge. I gathered my power again and sent a lance of power out at them, fanning it wide like a wave. All of them fell to the ground, split cleanly in half. I ran forward to examine the bodies. I had never fought against a Lycan that was so mindless. The Lycans tended to displayed pack thinking and hunting strategies that made them formidable opponents.

  When I reached the still-twitching bodies, it was hard to tell just what I was seeing. I bathed my hands in fire again and started to examine the mess. It just didn’t make sense; these Lycans had to have died days ago, maybe longer. Their fur was matted and they smelled of decay. How were they even able to run? Just what exactly did Adam have me guarding here? In all of my years studying with the order, I had never seen someone with the gift to bring the dead back to life, or even think about reanimating the dead. The thought of someone doing this was something so heinous that if it even could be done, it certainly wasn’t a skill taught to anyone.

  A scream ripped through the night, tearing my attention away from the examination. I extinguished the flames on my hands and started running back to the chateau. The three beasts that broke away from the pack must have reached it by now, and I had to do whatever I could to stop them. If they were as mindless as the ones I just faced, then it wouldn’t be much of a chore. Now I just had to hope that I stopped them before they reached the guests. As long as the guests were safe, I may just get out of this with a job to go back to.

  I rounded the corner and brought down the first beast I saw with another lance of power. It wasn’t flashy, but it got the job done. Using a direct blade of power drained a ton of my magic, but it seemed to be the most effective way of dealing with these creatures. I was going to have to be careful going forward; I couldn’t be caught here without my magic. One more blast of power brought down the next two Lycans. I was pretty sure that was all of them unless some had come from the road as well. It looked as if I was in luck; none of the creatures had made it inside, and the only casualties were a couple of guards and one of the valets. Turning, I made my way back to the front of the building. I had to assure myself that the guests were ok. I stepped around the bodies of the dead guards until one of them grabbed my ankle. I kicked at the offending hand and rushed toward the chateau. The dead rose behind me and followed, slowly drawing their swords as they came.

  I couldn’t let these men, or these things that used to be men, get inside the chateau. Summoning my courage, I ran toward them, my sword finding its way into my hand as I went. The first man aimed a strike at my head, which was easily dodged. His miss gave me an opening, and I lashed out at his chest. Spinning away from him, I moved to the next man in the bunch. This time I slammed the pommel of my sword into the next man’s head. A quick glance back toward the chateau showed that the first guard was still lumbering toward it. The blow I dealt should have been a killing blow, but he continued his inexorable progress toward whatever he had been commanded to take.

  I turned to follow when a blade swung by, just missing my head. The man behind me had the side of his head caved in from the hit I had dealt him. That didn’t stop him from lunging at me with his blade again. I ducked under the next strike, and this time brought my sword around in a wide arc, striking his throat. The blade sunk in about halfway and got stuck. Damn my luck. The man reached toward me, sword dropping from his hand. A gasp escaped my throat as his cold fingers found purchase on it.

  I fell to the ground and started trying to rip the hands away from my throat. They were cold and hard as steel. Desperation set in, and I clawed harder at them with no success. Finally my brain caught up with the panic that had set in, and I called upon my gift to ignite one of my hands. The blade of fire I created easily cut the man’s hands off at the wrists. Pushing his body away, I climbed back to my feet, pulling the choking fingers from my throat. I watched with horror as the body rose on the stumps of its arms and continued on its path toward the chateau.

  The blade of flame still sheathed around my hand, I chased after him, this time striking his head from his shoulders. Once I assured myself that he wasn’t getting up again, I looked around wildly only to see the valet and two more guards making their way inside of the chateau. I started to run toward the building when something slammed into me from behind.

  This time it hurt. I had been so focused on stopping the remaining dead men that I hadn’t focused on my shield. The pain lanced up my back as I rolled on it, looking behind me. A robed figure strode across the grounds, surrounded by two more of the undead Lycans. I started to scramble backward, the fear finally getting the better of me. What could possibly be driving this man to animate the dead? How in the hell was he even doing it? Was there even a chance for me to beat him? My back pressed against the outside of the chateau, the light from the torches bathing me in a flickering orange glow.

  The mage stood before me as the undead Lycans took positions on either side of me. I couldn’t see i
nside of his hood in the flickering light. Why was he just watching me? If he wanted me dead, then right now was a pretty damn good time to do it. The two Lycans kept me pinned to the wall. The smell coming from them was horrendous. The robed man turned his back on me and walked slowly to the door of the chateau. One of the undead men shuffled out of the building with something in his arms. In the shimmering light, I couldn’t tell exactly what it was, maybe an hourglass of some kind, but much larger.

  The man in front of me took it, and I felt him call on his magic. The object shrank until it was smaller than a fist. He pulled a silver chain from inside of his robes, and then he pulled down his hood and placed his new necklace over his head. I pushed back further against the wall as if I could somehow crawl through it. The man in front of me was the same one I had seen leaving Adam’s office. The scar on his cheek almost seemed to glow in the firelight. His eyes flickered black as he tucked the necklace inside of his robes.

  He looked down on me, and a smile turned at the corners of his mouth before he spoke. “Make sure you tell Adam that Gaston sends his regards.”

  I looked up at him, not able to tear my eyes away until he lowered his hood. He waved his hands, and I was pushed against the wall by some unseen force. He turned away from me. The two Lycans fell in step behind him, this time moving with much more grace. The men he had been controlling fell to the floor. Whatever power he had been using to reanimate them was gone.

  I tried to stand up, and I was pushed back against the wall. Pain again lanced through my back. Calling on my magic, I worked to heal the damage to my back. Once that was done, I turned my will toward trying to free myself. It took me awhile to find where the spell he had cast was anchored. When I finally did, the spell was easy enough to break. Being able to move again took away some of the crippling fear that had washed over me in Gaston’s presence. There was work to be done before I could head back inside. I needed to get rid of these corpses before anyone else saw them.

  I took a moment to ignite the bodies in front of me before walking around the yard to get the rest of the bodies Gaston had left in his wake. People could never know what happened to these men. The only thing the count would know was that they were no longer here, and his lawn had suffered some scorches. Now it was time to see just how bad the damage inside was. I could only hope that no one else had been killed, and better yet, that the count and his court didn’t see any of the dead men walking around.

  Looking around inside, I didn’t see anything amiss. I let out a sigh of relief. I would have a lot of explaining to do, but it hadn’t been a total catastrophe. I thought of changing and returning for that second dance, but I was utterly exhausted. Maybe it was better this way, anyway. I was going to need to get as much rest as possible before I had to explain this to the team showing up in the morning, and worse yet, to Adam upon my return.

  Opening the door to my suite of rooms, I paused for just a second. I used my magic to expand my senses. Someone was waiting inside. I shielded myself and kept my gift at the ready as I walked into the room. When I saw who was waiting inside, I dropped my shield, and for the second time that night, a genuine smile crossed my face.

  “I hope you don’t find my waiting here too presumptuous, my lord.”

  “Marie, I can honestly say that seeing you here has been the best part of my night.”

  “Come and join me. The bed is warm.”

  I stripped off the tatters that were left of my clothes and made my way to the bed. Marie pulled back the covers, and I took in her full glory via the candle on the bedside table. I couldn’t wait to explore more of what I saw there. “Definitely the best part of my night.” She giggled as I climbed on top of her. She wriggled against me, and the simple pleasures of having a woman in my bed helped to erase the horrid memories of the night.

  1

  Jackson

  Present

  The fire washed over my personal shield, obstructing the view in front of me. A small amount of extra power made the heat of it sweep over me like a cool breeze. I pulled my swords free from the scabbards over my shoulders and started to charge. The flames stopped, and I found myself facing my fiercest foe yet. She stood just over five feet tall and held two swords of her own. She wore a look of determination that let me know I was going to be in for a hell of a fight.

  Rain started to fall around us as she rushed forward to meet my charge. I ducked under one strike and blocked another as we spun past each other. We started to warily circle each other, looking for any opening. If anything, my training had taught me to focus on her shoulders—any true swing of her blade would start there. My eyes stayed trained on those slim shoulders, waiting for any hint of movement. She twirled the sword in her right hand and then launched an attack with her left. My blade rose of its own volition to block the strike. Hundreds of hours of training made my defense just a gut reaction. Somehow I was able to parry the next four blows as they came in rapid succession.

  I called on my gift to send a gust of air toward her. She blocked it easily, and when I attacked, she was ready for it. When my trick with the air hadn’t worked, I came in off balance, and she made me pay for it. The mud from the rain tasted about how you would expect it to, like failure with just a hint of embarrassment. The sting on my back reminded me that if we had been using real swords, I would probably be dead. When I rolled over, I had just enough time to block a strike aimed at my head.

  The blow glanced off of my shoulder. The blade in that hand fell into the mud as my arm went numb. Rolling to the right, I threw up a wall of sand to buy me the seconds I so desperately needed to recover. I turned the sand into a whirlwind, forcing it at my opponent, and dove toward my other blade. Rolling to my feet, I dropped the magic and attacked with both blades coming from different directions. She easily blocked both strikes but failed to block the ball of frozen water I had hurled at her from behind.

  This time she did lose a step as the water hit her in the back, and with her footwork out of place, it gave me the advantage I so desperately needed. My sword came at her in a tight quick thrust, driving into her unprotected stomach. The air expelled from her lungs in a scream of rage. I hadn’t followed up with a second strike, still surprised that my first had found its mark, and she used the moment of respite to center herself before rushing at me again. Her red hair stood out in stark contrast to the grey skies, and matched the fury blazing in her eyes. The strikes came faster than I would have thought possible. I was brought to my knees under the intensity of her assault. She raised her blade for the final strike. Her fury turned to surprise as the shield of ice formed above me in an instant. She tried to change the angle of her strike at the last second, but it was too late for that. Her sword bounced harmlessly away.

  I swept her leg out from under her and then brought my ice down upon them to trap her. She tried to conjure a flame to melt the ice, but I batted her magic aside with my own. When she struck out, I had all the leverage, and it was easy for me to deflect her blows and disarm her. I held one blade above her heart and watched the fight fade out of her eyes.

  “Shit.” The word came out more in a harsh reprimand to herself rather than anything directed at me.

  “Yes, that is exactly how I would describe your performance,” I said jokingly.

  “Maybe I should have asked you to eat it instead.” She held out a hand.

  My blades found their way back into their scabbards, and I grabbed her extended arm, pulling her to her feet. “You would think that I would be able to bask in my victory, since they come so infrequently, but instead I’m told to go eat shit.”

  “Well, losing makes me a little angry, but you’re getting better. It might be one day soon that you can beat me more than one out of ten.” She smiled up at me, batting her eyes in the rain. She slid an arm around my waist and gave it a slight squeeze.

  It felt good to have a friend, and one that I could joke around with so easily. “Well, when that day comes, I will relish in your demise, April Carpenter.
”

  “Up all night reading fantasy books again?”

  “Whatever do you mean, my good lady? But seriously, you can tell?”

  “I can tell when you say things like ‘I shall relish in your demise.’”

  “Damn.”

  “Yeah, you’re going to have to watch that, or it might dampen your cool factor. You know, bad ass hot dude who uses magic and all that.”

  “I prefer to think of it as an added bonus. If anything, it raises my awesome factor by ten.”

  “That’s because you’re not the one who has to listen to it.”

  I started to laugh and pulled her into a quick hug. “Well, at least with this extra training, I might stand a chance in a real fight.”

  “Just remember, if this was a real fight, you died in the first thirty seconds.”

  “That’s something to consider, and yet I prefer to remember the part where I won.”

  April hit me in the shoulder, sending a wave of pain lancing down my arm. “I’ll remember that for tomorrow.”

  “Maybe you could focus on something else, something that might not motivate you as much.”

  We walked out of the arena together; the rain was still coming down in sheets. Finally we made it back into one of the tunnels leading off of the arena floor. Our rooms were on opposite sides of the arena, so we started to split up. Before she turned the corner, I shouted, “You still coming to dinner?”

  Her momentum carried her around the corner. I saw a tangle of red hair pop back around it before she said, “You know it.”

  “See you then.”

  It felt good to get in a shower after being beaten black and blue in the pouring rain. The hot water eased the pain in my muscles somewhat, and the shower had always been a place for me to escape from the world. Getting the muddy sand out of my hair was another story altogether; it was almost as if it was fighting against me to stay there. After my third round of shampoo, I started to feel like maybe I had finally gotten most of it. The rest would have to wait for another day.