by Colin Tabor
I gathered myself for something final.
A bolt of lightning crackled out from my hand to flash across the sky. It set the pall hanging over the city aglow, before blasting the top of the Turo off to send stones flying. When the smoke cleared, it revealed the tower still standing, but crowned in ruin.
Beside me, I could sense Sef as he wondered: From where has all this power so suddenly come?
With guilt on my mind, I ignored him.
To the west lay the Port district, in many places it also burned. The air over there swirled about to gather the countless smoke plumes and weave them together. At its heart glowed a pillar of sparks of a deep violet hue. I didn’t have to check to know that it rose over the previous ritual’s site.
Sef yelled above the noise of the wind, fighting, and roar of Ossard’s countless fires, “Look at the River Gate; others flee the city!”
Crowds gathered there, many marked by the white and yellow or black and gold of the Loyalists. They were leaving, ushered on their way by the ghostly priests of St Marco’s.
Passing over the Loyalist district, my excitement soared. For the first time I could sense that I was closing in on Pedro and Maria.
My family!
Sef’s thoughts again fluttered through my mind: She’s so powerful, could she somehow stop all this?
With a cold voice, I said, “To save them, I’d have to kill them - and I don’t want their blood on my hands. Let them kill each other if they must.” Yet, deep down, I knew I could only play with such power because of my feeding on Lady Death. The admission stirred my hunger, it rising from a nagging ache to mature into a throbbing pain.
We passed plumes of smoke as the fires about the city continued to grow and spread, and then, finally, we began to descend towards Ossard’s main battleground; the bloodied and rubble-strewn ruin of Market Square.
I slipped into the celestial to search for the souls of Pedro and Maria. I could taste them; they were close.
There!
“Sef, I’ve found them,” I said as I laboured to weave the view of two worlds together.
“Where?”
“The Malnobla!”
Sef drew his sword. “Let’s get them!”
And my thoughts were also of Kurgar.
The cultists had secured the building, and now used it as it always had been - as Ossard’s seat of power. The Loyalist banners hanging from the balcony were cast down as we watched.
I offered a prayer to Schoperde, begging her to lend me the strength to end Kurgar’s life.
Surely such a thing would leave the new Ossard weakened?
And all the while, I guided us down into the slaughter-ground of Market Square.
It surged beneath us under the tide of battle as the two sides clashed. The dead lay scattered about, but also strangely piled in places like islands amidst a furious sea’s swell. Both sides fought hard, but clearly the Loyalists had been caught out and were now being pushed back. Their only line that held, albeit as a thinning ring, was around their crippled Cathedral.
So close now to the end of all things, my anger at having had my family stolen away to start with only bucked and grew. I wanted them back, and to make the perpetrators pay, but that fury only helped work free my dark hunger. The pain of it throbbed inside me to grow more desperate and hard. At the same time its demands took strength from the deaths around me, as if it could taste them.
We came down amidst the fighting a hundred paces from the front of the Lord’s Residence. There was little space, but an impatient wave of my hand called a force that pushed aside the combatants regardless of loyalties.
Some of their contests finished abruptly as one lost balance and fell on another’s sword; in others, those that struggled to keep on their feet or move back into my cleared space, I dealt with by reaching into the celestial and brazenly draining their souls.
Part of me screamed in disbelief!
The beginning of that feeding hadn’t been a conscious decision, more a loss of my battle to stay in control. Now, blinded by its high, I grabbed another, and another, and then only more.
Sef could feel something of what was happening, becoming restless beside me and afraid. I tried to twist his silence into an endorsement.
Surely I needed souls for power, otherwise how was I to best Kurgar and get my family back? There was also my grandmother to deal with before I could free Marco and his wife and daughter.
In that feeding I claimed six more. Of them, five had been promised to others, and I could feel the celestial shift in anger as larger entities turned to see who dared steal their own.
The fear of being caught by such powers saw me finally calm. I could feel myself stepping back from a crazed binge, one that would see me drink of all the souls in the square. Lost to such madness, I’d even sup on Sef.
The thought both sobered and disgusted me.
I said, “Let’s go, Kurgar’s already claimed the Lord’s Residence. They’ll be there with him.”
Sef nodded, his eyes wide as we landed in the square.
Few combatants noticed us, most too busy in their own struggles. A smattering raised weapons against us, but I just snarled to see them drop.
I’d fed some more!
But I hadn’t meant to…
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. I came here for Life, not as Death’s servant!
I grabbed Sef to drag him forward, trying to remain focused on my purpose and get out of the square.
He flinched at my touch.
The crowded battlefield parted before us to reveal a path of blood-slick cobbles, it all lit in amber by the flaring light cast from the city’s countless flames. About us rang the clash of metal amidst the crunch of breaking bones, the tearing of flesh, and the screams and moans of the dying. This was the bleak world the old gods wanted; one where souls were quickly claimed.
Sef pleaded, “Juvela, you’ve got to control yourself. I can see what you’re doing, and if you’re not careful you’ll become just like our foes!”
He was right, but was it already too late?
The further we moved, the more we escaped the battle’s heart and came into a strange kind of peace. It was dotted with exhausted Reformers who smiled and quietly celebrated, despite their wounds and fatigue.
We passed through them to stop at the base of the Residence’s steps. Ahead of us, at the centre of the rising stairs, spread a pool of blood being fed drip by drip from a plump and robed body hanging from the balcony. Bloodied and burnt, with arrows sticking out of it, it slowly twisted and turned in the smoke-heavy breeze.
It was Benefice Vassini!
The body twitched - life remained in the poor man!
I looked into the celestial to see bonds of power humming about him. The casting was a curse, it blocking his soul from breaking its last links to his mortal form. The cultists had done it to torment him.
Unbelievably, a child played at the edge of pooled blood. Next to her, a slim but tall man dragged his own fingers through the congealed mess as it dribbled down step by step. Horrified, I moved to stop him, but at the same moment he stood and turned while rubbing his bloodied fingertips together.
The air chilled.
By the flaring light of Ossard’s fires, I could see that he was neither Flet nor Heletian, but Lae Velsanan.
He looked up to the Benefice, his spell breaking the bonds entrapping Vassini’s soul. The dangling form shuddered, and then gave out a final but relieved moan.
I turned back to the Lae Velsanan, but he was already disappearing into the crowd. His magic tasted familiar - it something of Life. He was an ally, if a mystery, perhaps something for another time.
Holding Sef’s arm, I stepped forward to skirt the pooled blood and climb the stairs. It was time to get my family and deliver justice to Kurgar.
25
The Residence
The great timber doors stood open at the top of the steps, yet I had to stop and steady myself against one of them as I
tried to deal with my roiling power.
I looked back across the square. It had seemed so chaotic only moments ago, but now I could see that most of it was already in the Reformers’ grip. The Loyalists still fought on in isolated pockets, outnumbered, and being cut down. Their only organised resistance stood to ring the Cathedral, but even that force was being overrun and wasted.
The Loyalist defeat was so certain a thing that many Reformers turned from the fight. Their leaders directed them to clear the cobbles of bodies and prepare for the building of a great pyre, while behind them, from the direction of the port, a convoy of timber-loaded carts began to come into the square.
The ritual?
They were quick with their work, their hurry nagging me to also move. Beyond them, I noted, the eastern sky was brightening.
I lent hard against the door, trying to deal with the power boiling within me. It was caustic and difficult to handle, particularly now that it mixed with my excitement as I closed in on my family.
Sef put a hand to my shoulder. “Are you alright?”
I could only give him a nod, as speaking would have revealed the truth.
“Are you sure?”
I closed my eyes and nodded again, but this time concentrated on calming myself. After a deep breath, I pushed off from the door to open my eyes and said, “Let’s go.”
Sef’s worry lifted into surprise, him staring at the woodwork I’d been leaning against. I turned to look.
Spreading from where my body had touched its polished finish ran the swirling images of white roses. Green leaves and shoots also ran through the decoration, all of it tinged with the red health of new growth.
Sef whispered, “The Lady of the Rose, that’s what they call you!”
So many things were happening to me, and there was still so much more to learn. All I could say was, “Better that than the hag of oleander.”
Sef smiled and gave a soft laugh. “It’s a measure of your power. You’re ready.”
I blushed, knowing the truth of where so much of my power had come from - the souls I’d stolen.
What was I doing?
Ashamed, I promised myself; I’d not steal another, never again. I took a deep breath and tried to hold on to my calm. “Sef, with you by my side, I can do anything.”
The entry hall spread before us with a layer of ash and litter covering its marble floor. Likewise, the walls’ rich wood panelling had already been defaced with obscene carvings and angry scrawls.
I whispered to myself of courage and promised to be true to Life…
But the hunger was still there despite my gluttony. It ached deep down in an empty place, sending up giddy shivers of longing…
No, I’d be strong. I had to be. Feeding on stolen souls was the path to addiction and submission to Death.
Yet that hunger now lurked within me, and was always going to be there. The damage was already done…
No, control and strength would see me through. If I took one more, it’d only lead to another, and then another two.
But it had felt so good, and the power harvested could ensure my family’s escape. Surely, just one more soul wouldn’t lead to addiction? I could control it, and besides if it were Kurgar’s, it would merely be a kind of justice…
No, I couldn’t!
But what if I needed that extra power to rescue my family?
No!
But to come all this way, only to fail because I didn’t have the power needed…
Well…
Just one, just to seal the rescue…
Well, just one, but then never again.
And, as we advanced across the entry hall, I noticed that I was drooling.
No one came to stop us, not at the entry, nor in our passage through the hall. When we reached the stairs we both paused before beginning our climb, knowing that Kurgar would be in the Lord’s office, at the traditional hub of Ossard’s power.
Noise came to us from above as we ascended. Footfalls and slamming doors, people rushing from room to room; meetings, discussions, and of course some looting.
How quickly they’d taken this place.
We came to the first landing, Sef with his sword drawn, and me with my determination. I shivered as I wiped saliva from my chin.
A voice came to us from down the corridor, a hard thing followed by heavy footfalls. “Stop! What’d you do here?”
Sef and I turned to face the speaker.
A man stepped forward with his sword out, moving to block our path. He looked to be a Kavist from his arms and armour, with another stepping up behind him to back him up.
Sef said, “Let us pass my friend, our business is not with you.”
The first man frowned as the rhythm of more footfalls sounded from further back. “Your business is with us if you’re here.”
I said, “We’ve come to see Kurgar, and that’s something we’ve done easily enough before.”
“Before you turned half of Newbank against him!” the lead Kavist growled, and then he addressed Sef, “Brother, you’ve turned your back on Kave!”
Sef shuffled uncomfortably.
The Kavist’s fellow snapped, “It’s to be expected! If I’m not wrong, this isn’t any brother of mine, he’s Sef, the lone man of Kaumhurst.”
Sef grew tense, but I had no time for taunts and bravado. I said, “I’ll not be refused.”
The footfalls behind them grew louder, before the silhouette of another hulking warrior showed in the dim light.
The lead Kavist, ignoring the latest arrival, sneered. “You can’t pass.” And he raised his blade to let it hang in the air between us.
The third Kavist stepped into the light; tall and broad, yet fresh-faced. It was Cherub.
Sef smiled with relief. “Cherub, please, your friends are holding us back from an important meeting with Heinz Kurgar?”
Cherub looked to Sef and then to me. Finally, as he blushed, he dropped his gaze to the floor, not willing to act.
I growled, “Kurgar took my family, and I will have them back!”
But the lead Kavist had his own anger brewing to make his voice raw, “Normally I’d not hit a woman, but today I’ll make an exception.”
Sef took a step forward. “You’ll be dead before you do!”
The Kavist put on a grim smile. “Says you?”
I stepped between them and raised my hands between their drawn swords. “Damn you, I’ll not be delayed. I’ve no fear of you - or ending you either.”
His eyes flickered between Sef and me. “Such big words for the witch of woe.”
“I’m no witch.”
“Then what are you?”
“Let me show you, and if I’m greater you may withdraw?”
He laughed. “I’m no fool! Get out of here, or I’ll skewer you!”
But I stood my ground between him and Sef and their steel. I let my hand slip to the breast of his armour.
He started at my touch, but stilled as if to dare me.
Sef hissed, “Juvela!” He thought I was going to feed again.
I whispered to the Kavist, “Can you feel the cold?”
A smirk came to his face as he shook his head, but then it faded.
In that other world, I’d begun to put pressure on his soul. Small tears opened in its defensive shell, and into those fissures seeped the void’s chill.
His gaze dropped to my hand, to where it rested on his armour, then it rose to again meet mine.
“I’m no witch, nor charlatan, or even a cult priest, I’m much more than any of these. I’m a direct child of Schoperde, the goddess of life…”
And then I began to draw his soul’s energy into mine.
He broke into a sweat as his skin paled and his lips began to tremble and go blue.
“…and because of that lineage…”
His eyes watered, and in them his life-light began to flicker.
“…I can take life away…”
He began swaying on his feet as his eyes rolled back to sh
ow their whites.
“…but also return it.”
I gritted my teeth as I stilled the flow, then reversed it.
It hurt. Oh by the gods it hurt! My hunger, which had bucked at the taste of his soul-stuff, now raged at being deprived.
I hissed, “I’m no witch; I’m something so much more than that. If I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead, but I just want to pass you by.”
The colour came back to his face, his eyes righting themselves as the tremors died on his lips. He wasn’t a priest, but he knew he’d just come close to death. With a quick swipe of his arm, he knocked my hand from his armour, yet with the contact broken his show of life faded. Silent, he just stared at me as he fell back into the shadows to hit the wall, and then slumped to the floor.
Sef and I went forward, passing the others as we headed for the Lord’s office.
The door was closed, but the low drone of voices could be heard. I looked to Sef to see him nod, so I threw open the door and walked in.
The office sat as it always had, a large room heavy with ornamentation and wood - and now packed with Reformers. Kurgar sat back in Lord Liberigo’s chair, comfortable at my father-in-law’s desk. His voice stilled at my entrance, after having been busy issuing orders for a ritual that with the passing of so much of the night was now quite near.
He looked to me and said, “Juvela…”
I strode past startled faces, too many of them familiar; including the Kavist high priest, Seig, and the Cabal’s Mauricio.
Had they all been a party to the city’s fall? How long had they toiled to claim their positions and make their plans reality?
Did it matter now?
I just wanted my family, and to leave this bloody mess behind. “Kurgar, you know what I want.”
Sef followed with his sword out.
Mauricio said, “His title is Lord Kurgar, the Lord of Ossard.”
“Lord of the damned!”
Kurgar raised a hand. “Now, Juvela, really, you’re in no position to be making demands.”
“I hold every position!”
“Juvela, I need your family, and I’ll not be giving them up.”