The Ossard Series (Books 1-3): The Fall of Ossard, Ossard's Hope, and Ossard's Shadow.

by Colin Taber

  “Juvela, who is the Soul Eater, who was feeding off all of us?”

  Finally, after my confusion, another moment of clarity came: It hadn’t been the Lae Velsanan officer, but his senior, that’s what the strongest voice had hissed. I took a deep breath and said, “The ship’s captain, but I can’t say any more.” I shook my head. “I don’t know any more, I just know it was him. He was the one who drained me, though I don’t know if he meant to, or even if he knew that he did. There’s something hungry about him.”

  “For souls?”

  I looked to Sef, helpless. I didn’t know what I was talking about, I wasn’t even sure I was communicating my jumbled thoughts clearly.

  A knock sounded. It was Kurt.

  Sef opened the sliding panel at the front of the cab to talk to him. At the same time the coach slowed.

  Sef asked, “What’s happening?”

  “We’re at Market Square, but there seems to be some kind of problem ahead. We’ll get through, but not quickly. I just thought you should know seeing as our lady is ill.”

  I spoke up, “I’m much better, thank you, so you needn’t hurry.”

  “Good to hear, my lady.”

  Sef said, “I’ll come out and have a look. Give me a moment.”

  “Right you are.”

  Sef turned back to me, his expression serious. “Are you alright, really?”

  “I’m well enough, really. Have a look at what’s happening and let me know. If we’re going to be stuck in the markets for a while we might as well get out and have a look around.”

  He nodded, smiled to Maria, who grinned back, and then opened the door and jumped down to the cobbles. I could hear him talking to Kurt and people in the crowd. Some spoke gravely of the latest kidnappings, others about the commotion ahead, but he got no straight answers.

  I opened the door and called to him, “Help me, we’re coming down.”

  He frowned.

  “It’s safe enough.”

  He grumbled, but helped me before turning for Maria. Looking up to Kurt atop the coach, I said, “Work your way through this mess and wait for us on the other side. We’ll go through the crowd.”

  He glanced at Sef, but nodded.

  I took Maria by the hand. “Let’s go.”

  The three of us began passing through the crowd, the square abuzz with gossip and the sounds of relief. Spread amidst it were a few tightly packed mobs centred on weeping women and distraught men; the relatives of the missing. They headed for the Cathedral. The Church of Baimiopia's head in the city, Benefice Vassini, would be waiting within to bless them and then join them in prayer.

  Market Square would be busy on most days, but this day the area seethed under the crush. I said to Sef, “We’re not going to be getting anywhere quickly.”

  “Are you sure that you’re well?”

  “I’m fine. Let’s have a look at what’s causing the problem.”

  He grudgingly nodded.

  Maria walked between Sef and I as we headed towards the heart of the crowd. I still couldn't see anything of what was happening.

  Sef looked about, he seemed nervous.

  I asked, “Are you alright?”

  “I’d rather we were getting you home.”

  I thought he was being silly, after all I felt fine and the bells had tolled their full count.

  We continued on.

  To my surprise, the fuss was over nothing being sold, nor the theatrics of a street troupe, just a lone monk. He wore a sash of red tied around the waist of a faded grey robe with his ruddy face crowned by a scalp of stubble.

  Through yellowed teeth and waving arms he spoke while a small metal amulet bounced about on his chest to catch the light. “Dark days require strong protection, the protection of the saints! And nothing gains a saint’s attention and protection more than prayers. To them, prayers and the swearing of devotion earn favour, and favour is protection. Such sanctuary is salvation!

  “In evil times all seek sanctuary, and prayers earn sanctuary. If a curse is upon a city, one such as we bear, surely one should seek the favour of the Saint of Children. Is there such a saint you ask? Of course; the most-holy Saint Santana. Offer her your prayers!”

  He lifted a small wooden box, its sides lovingly carved and polished. “Behold, a relic of the mortal remains of our most holy saint! Pray to it, kiss it, or buy a blessed amulet of Santana’s Seal for you or your child to wear. It will secure safe passage through this life and the next!”

  A table behind him held a pile of amulets and an assortment of boxes.

  While I was not overly familiar with the Church, I knew I'd never heard of Saint Santana. It looked more like a way to get wealthy. I turned to Sef, unconsciously tightening my grip on Maria’s hand.

  He grinned at my unspoken thoughts.

  I nodded; it was time to go.

  He led the way.

  We left the monk behind us. He looked to be a Heletite, one of the missionaries the Church set loose upon the world. I found it hard to believe that the Church had sanctioned his actions. Yes, it was greedy, but this was just shameless.

  We headed through the market’s bustle towards our coach, still a good two hundred paces away. The sea of people going about their business seemed so normal, so ordinary, but above it all lay a simmering tension.

  The city couldn’t go on like this, not with the kidnappings, nor with charlatans profiting from such misery.

  And that’s when it happened.

  A voice whispered, “It comes!”

  I turned to look for the speaker, only to realise it was one of the voices in my mind. The rest of them then rose loud and clear as a chorus, all becoming frantic, “It comes! It comes!”

  They cried out within me, repeating again and again, “It comes! It comes! It comes!”

  Then the strongest hissed, “Beware, it comes!” And the others fell into wailing.

  Distracted, it took me a moment to realise that everyone about me had stopped and that the square stood silent – but for the tolling of the Cathedral's bells.

  Dong...

  Sef tensed, placing a hand on Maria.

  Dong...

  I again tightened my grip on her hand.

  Dong...

  The very air chilled.

  Dong...

  People about us looked to each other with growing fear.

  Dong...

  Then silence.

  Complete blessed silence.

  Just five as it should be...

  Dong...

  And thousands of voices arose as women wailed and men groaned to drown out the sixth tolling of the bell.

  Sef picked up Maria and put his other arm about me to shepherd us towards our coach. The square surged with people, and as we hurried, we passed a woman who’d dropped to her knees amidst the panic to clutch at her young daughter. She cried, “Only five, not six, you can’t take any more!”

  As if in answer, the daylight dimmed about her. Black sparks danced and snapped on the cobblestones, and then in a swirl of chill darkness, a vortex opened up beside her to leak a celestial shadow. The form took shape; it was a man robed in black.

  The woman cried out.

  He stepped forth on to frosted cobbles, reaching out for her daughter’s hand.

  No one stopped, no one even seemed to notice – just me. Then I realised that no one else could see him. They were blind to the truth.

  My accursed witchery had returned to burden me with yet more guilt!

  Her daughter, with eyes sparkling amidst gathering tears, reluctantly reached out. She trembled with fear. Still, as if she had no will of her own, she moved to fulfil his unspoken command.

  I couldn't witness this, not again, not after the red-haired boy.

  I had to do something!

  I slipped out of Sef's grip and snatched the knife from his belt. Maria looked to me with her beautiful blue eyes while a voice fierce with love hissed in my mind, “Be careful!”

  Witchery!

&nb
sp; I was stunned. It was her, who else could it be? I nearly stopped, but the mother’s desperate pleas grabbed back my attention.

  Sef yelled, “Where are you going?”

  I ignored him.

  The cultist looked down at the girl, waiting for her trembling hand.

  Her mother held her tight, and though I didn’t think she could see him like I could, she somehow sensed his presence.

  The voices cried out for me to hurry.

  My vision then regained the clarity it had only once held before. With that finer view, the black celestial sparks became storms of energy cascading off the cultist and radiating out from the magic he cast to hide himself.

  I was nearly there, each step closing the gap.

  But how was I going to stop him?

  The sounds of the crowd, the whirlwind of movement, and the dazzling flare of magic combined to be dizzying. Amidst it all I could still hear Sef yelling. “Damn it Juvela, wait!”

  The girl reached out to the cultist.

  I wouldn't get there in time.

  I called, “Get away from him!”

  She seemed oblivious to me, and then took his hand, sliding her fingers across his own and deep into his palm.

  He grabbed them tightly.

  In an instant I saw her lose the colours of life.

  Her mother howled.

  Then, still charging, I finally arrived.

  I slashed at the cultist with Sef’s blade while diving between them to force them apart. The knife clumsily cut into his shoulder.

  He cursed and fell back.

  I pushed the girl aside and broke their hands’ grip. At the same time, a shower of blue sparks flared to dance about us.

  The crowd screamed and fell back.

  They'd seen something!

  I fell to the cobbles and rolled to a stop.

  The girl lay limp in her mother's arms, but with life’s colours returning.

  In front of us stood the cultist, now back on his feet. For the first time the crowd could see him, I think they could even see the sparks spilling off from him as his broken spell bled away.

  Sef ran towards me with Maria in his arms. He dodged around the cultist to stand between us, passing me Maria before turning back to face him. He looked to the cultist with threatening eyes, and in a slow but determined movement drew his sword. He mumbled a prayer, his words in Flet and their substance hidden under his breath, but every Flet in the square knew he’d just asked for a blessing from our battle god; Kave.

  The cultist ignored him, instead turning to me. “And how will you explain this to the Church?”

  A bitter stink grew, and in a swirling flash he was gone.

  Beyond where he’d stood loomed the twin towers of the Cathedral. Priests crowded at the top of its steps, amidst them Benefice Vassini. They'd seen everything.

  The woman beside me rose to her feet clutching her rousing daughter. Over and over she whispered, “Thank you.” But she was so shaken that all she could do was stumble away.

  I got up off the cobbles with Maria. “Sef, we should go.”

  People milled about, confused and frightened, many in a panic that only grew. They pushed past each other to knock others over, as well as stalls, and the fences of the livestock pens.

  I risked a glance over the commotion, looking back to the Cathedral. Predictably, a group of priests advanced through the crowd. Benefice Vassini, robed and regal, watched over them from atop the steps, his face glowering.

  Sef acted quickly, moving ahead to clear a path. With Maria in my arms, I darted after him with every pace putting more confusion between myself and the churchmen.

  Finally, we reached the coach. Sef opened the cab’s door, helped us up, and then threw himself in. He yelled to Kurt, “Make haste!”

  The coach lurched into movement.

  Sef turned to me. “You saw him before the rest of us!”

  Gasping after my dash through the crowd, I could only nod.

  And behind us the Heletite cried out, “Witness the power of Saint Santana! She fights through her chosen Lady, bestowing blessings and wonders to protect those who accept her into their hearts!”

  He was besieged by frightened people.

  5

  -

  The Coming of Chaos

  -

  We returned home through streets full of anxious people rushing to seek safety, amidst units of militia and city watch trying to cut through the crush. While we travelled as fast as we could, the streets remained choked, so by the time we got back to Newbank, it was to find that news of events had preceded us, carried by people who’d travelled more speedily on horseback or by foot.

  Pedro ran from our small courtyard. “Juvela, is Maria alright?”

  His eyes gave him the answer as she reached for him from the opened cab door.

  He took her into his arms and kissed her. Finally he turned to me, reaching forward with one hand to run it softly down my arm before helping me from the coach’s step. It was a surprising affection. “What happened?”

  His questions irritated me, but only because I feared that they were the first of many. I could also see that he wasn’t the only one struck with worry: My parents also stood in the courtyard, and with them a deputation of Flet guildsmen.

  My mother asked, “Are you well, Juvela?” Her true question was of headaches and magic.

  “We're alright, Sef protected us.”

  A guildsman snapped, “With magic. You've been careless, and now there’ll be no end of trouble!”

  Pedro looked up at the mention of magic as if someone had cursed.

  I said, “There was no magic. We simply helped a woman in need.”

  My father shrugged. “No matter, they will be here soon. What will you tell them?”

  Pedro nursed Maria, but looked to my father in bewilderment. “They?”

  “The Churchmen. They’ll want to know what happened, and they probably won't be interested in the truth. They'll label her a witch and a cultist, and probably try to blame the kidnappings on her.”

  He was right, I hadn’t thought about it.

  What would I tell them?

  Pedro fumed at the suggestion, but deep down knew it held some truth. He'd returned from the monastery a shattered man. While he'd since rediscovered some of his old backbone, it now came wrapped in the meat of an ambiguous devotion. If hearing our talk of the Church made him uncomfortable, I feared what he made of our mention of magic.

  I offered, “I just knocked the cultist down when I ran past.”

  My mother shook her head, she was pale and close to tears. “The Inquisition won’t be happy with that. We heard you attacked the kidnapper with a knife, and that you fought him off with blinding flashes of magic!”

  I said, “The Inquisition isn't here!”

  My father shook his head. “No doubt they've agents, but even without them the Church isn't likely to let such a public display of the arcane go unpunished.”

  I looked to Maria. “There was no magic, not by me! They can't take me away, surely I’m protected by my connection to the Liberigos?”

  My father nodded. “Let's hope so, but for now you'll go into hiding. The Guild's sending a carriage and, when you're safe, we'll meet with Lord Liberigo and ask him to guarantee your protection.”

  -

  The unmarked carriage arrived amidst a steady flow of people coming to see the lady who'd fought off the kidnapper.

  Me...

  By the time Pedro, Maria, Sef and I were packed into it, we were surrounded by a crowd. Some called out, others begged for my touch. It was unnerving.

  Things were getting out of control.

  My mother pushed past their beseeching hands, knocking them out of the way as she lifted herself up to the window. “Be careful...”

  I cut off her words, “Mother, I’ve far too much to live for.” In Flet I whispered, “Take care, my husband is listening.”

  She fought the urge to glance at him, but nodded. “Remem
ber what happened to your grandmother. Expect no mercy.”

  In the common tongue, I said, “I’ll be alright,” but my words were hollow. I couldn’t hide my doubts.

  She tried to smile.

  Regardless of how we might want to control such things, our secrets and our lives, it’s impossible. Pedro was my husband, and so was involved. He would come with us to the Guild despite there being so many truths that had to be hidden from the Heletians – and he was one of them.

  My mother stepped down to the cobbles as my father yelled to the driver, “Go, get them out of here!”

  The crowd cried out, some holding up the holy star of Krienta while others bravely clutched the symbols of other faiths. To do so put them in as much danger as me, but they were desperate and frightened – and had good reason to be.

  For the first time there’d been a sixth kidnapping, and we’d already seen the seventh attempt. We could only assume that there’d be more. Would the cultists stop at seven, or would they continue until the city was bereft of children?

  Our driver pulled on the reins as the Cathedral’s bells began to toll.

  Dong...

  The mob cried out.

  Dong...

  The carriage lurched off.

  Dong...

  Someone yelled, “She’s the chosen of Santana, and our only hope!”

  Dong...

  My father bellowed, “Sef, keep her safe!”

  Dong...

  And the mob around us fell back as the horses forced their way on to the road.

  Dong...

  I whispered, trying to drown out the sounds of chaos, “They’ve got their seventh in any case.”

  Dong...

  And behind us the mob broke into mourning.

  -

  Our journey saw us head through the heart of the district, taking the widest roads so we could gain some speed and get away from the crowd. Before long, those following us were left far behind. Our driver swung us around, steering us towards the Cassaro, and then along the riverside road until we reached the Guild’s compound.

  Pedro sat glumly with his shoulders slumped, a lost look haunting his eyes. “Just what are we to do?” He shook his head and then glanced up to focus on me. “Please, tell me what really happened?”

  Sef turned to look out the window, watching the passing streets through black lace curtains that worked with the day’s dying light to hide our faces.