Song of the Sea Spirit: An epic fantasy novel (The Mindstream Chronicles)

by May, K. C.

  Until the sun created another patch of shade for her on the rock’s eastern side, she passed the time reading, noting in her head the translations of the tones Elder Kassyl had recorded over his decades as a Truth Sayer. Though she had a lead pen with her, she didn’t want to write down anything more that her former fellows could use against her or the other people of Serocia. The more she wrote down, the more knowledge she could end up sharing with anyone who stole her books. Whoever defeated her would surely use the allies for evil.

  Jora observed her past self flipping pages in the Book of Azarian, looking up the words in Elder Kassyl’s book that she didn’t know. Though it was time consuming work going back and forth from her past to the present, she read about the realms of perception and existence, though she didn’t yet fully understand the relationship between them.

  She found another patch of shade, spread her robe on the sand, and ate half the food Mira had given her. She struggled to keep her mind focused on the present moment, for when she found her thoughts wandering to the upcoming battle, fear asserted itself, arguing that she would be better off settling in Tourd or Skelr under an alias. Perhaps she would someday. But not yet.

  When dusk began to settle into night, she rose and returned to the boat. The ebb tide had left the dinghy completely beached, and so she had to drag it across the sand into the water. Once it was afloat, she climbed in, opened the Mindstream, and called to Zhokaw. The ally appeared in the water beside the boat, making its odd shick-shick sound and gazing up at her with eyes that looked more human than fish. Like Po Teng’s.

  “Do you know where the Isle of Shess is?” she asked.

  It poked its snout out of the water and nodded.

  “Good. That’s where we’re going. I’m looking for a Legion commander named Turounce.” Jora realized then that Zokaw remembered he’d once been Zokor. If he remembered his old name, then it was likely he remembered his commander. “You know him, yes?”

  Zhokaw nodded.

  “And you know the best place to come ashore on the Isle without being noticed. Take me there.” She dangled the rope over the bow, and the creature wriggled his way into the loop. “Of course, we’ll have to slip past the Legion’s fleet ships,” she said. “We need to be careful and quiet.”

  Zhokaw lifted his snout out of the water. “Shlip,” he said.

  “Yes, the ships. We have to sneak past them.”

  The creature shook his head. “Shlip... bee... twiks...”

  “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

  To her surprise, Zhokaw became glassy like Po Teng did when he moved so quickly. What was he trying to tell her? She opened the Mindstream and saw him more clearly. He nodded once more and started pulling the boat but stopped a moment later and gazed up at her.

  “I’m sorry. I still don’t understand. You can go unseen by the ships, but I can’t. They’ll see the boat.”

  Zhokaw shook his head. “Bee... twiks.”

  Jora gasped. “Betwixt? Is that what you said?”

  Zhokaw nodded enthusiastically.

  “Challenger’s mighty fists,” she muttered, realizing the ally had unwittingly filled in the missing pieces of her understanding. She could leave the realm of perception—what Sundancer had called the helix—and move unseen through the physical world. It wasn’t quite the same as what she’d done when she wrestled the ally into submission; she’d crossed into a different realm of perception then. She wasn’t sure how to accomplish her goal, though. “Let’s try it before we get too close to a fleet ship.”

  Zhokaw became glassy beneath the water’s surface, disappearing from view. Jora opened the Mindstream. In her mind’s eye, she saw the ally clearly below, but she wasn’t sure how to move her body out of the realm of perception. Last time, she’d played the flute, repeating the words Sundancer had taught her. She didn’t want to open the gate—it was past dusk anyway—but maybe the first part of the chant, the part that mentioned opening the way betwixt, was the key.

  Closing her eyes, she opened the Mindstream and whistled the first part of the command, not wanting to chance dropping the flute again and losing or damaging it.

  “Open way betwixt.”

  The reddish glow of the gate’s opening didn’t appear, but she sensed the area in front of the boat become deeper. “All right, Zhokaw. Pull.”

  She floated into the Mindstream’s blackness, losing command of her senses at once. She saw nothing, heard nothing, didn’t feel the boat’s bench under her butt or its hull under her feet, though she was aware of her surroundings in the same way she was aware of what she witnessed while observing someone in the Mindstream. It was as if her mind mapped her surroundings through its awareness of the physical world, but her senses were turned off. She knew she was in the boat, and she had a mental image of herself from a point of view above and behind her left shoulder, as if she was observing herself. The alien sensation made Jora laugh and shudder at the same time.

  “Challenger’s blessing,” she said, though she neither felt her mouth say the words nor heard them with her ears. She was only aware that she’d spoken through her observation. “This is strange.”

  She had the notion that the boat was moving through the water, though her body still felt like it was suspended in nothingness. Her mind map formed an image of the coastline to her right, as clear and bright as if it had been daylight. Soon, she became aware that Zhokaw changed direction to pull the boat directly east, toward the deepest part of the sea.

  She was about to ask why Zhokaw was taking her this way when it occurred to her that they needed to go ashore on the southeastern side of the Isle. Rather than sail around its contours, a direct route would be more efficient. Ahead, she noticed fleet vessels anchored in the depths.

  “Will they see the dinghy?” she asked, still unable to feel her lips and tongue moving or hear her own voice.

  Zhokaw wagged his head side to side, dragging the boat along a gentle S path.

  The dinghy must have moved into the ’twixt as well. Good. Turounce wouldn’t have any reason to anticipate her arrival.

  Chapter 24

  As the dinghy drifted to shore, Jora left the ’twixt and returned to the realm of perception by simply closing the Mindstream. Feeling her feet on solid ground all of a sudden made her legs feel wobbly. The world spun, and she stumbled to her knees in the shallow water. “Whoa.” Once her mind adjusted to having all her senses back, she pulled the boat onto the beach, cringing at the grating sound it made. The sun was coming up, and there would most likely be soldiers patrolling the beach. The last thing she wanted was to attract their attention.

  In the distance, she saw the dim forms of tents and the smoke from a cookfire rising into the early morning air. Without trees to shield her from view, she felt exposed there on the beach. Anyone patrolling there, looking for enemy ships coming ashore, would spot the dinghy and sound an alarm.

  She summoned Po Teng, and instantly it appeared, looking up at her with adoring eyes and clicking its fingers together. If the creature hadn’t been so dangerous, it might have been endearing.

  “Po Teng, I need to hide the dinghy from the patrolling soldiers. Can I leave it... I don’t know... in the ’twixt? So that it’s still here but no one can see it?”

  “No,” it said.

  “What would you suggest?”

  Its eyes drooped, and it shook its head, fingers clicking. What was it doing with its fingers? The gesture looked so familiar.

  “It’s difficult for you to speak, isn’t it?”

  Po Teng nodded. “Chaw-lah.” Its mouth, such as it was, stretched flat. Was that... a smile?

  She smiled back. “That almost sounds like Jora.”

  It nodded again, enthusiasm brightening its eyes. “Chaw-lah.”

  “How do you know my name? I never told you.”

  “Le-meh-pah.”

  A chill shot up her spine. Did he say... Jora felt the blood drain from her head and pool in her heart. She
fell to her knees, searching those brown eyes. Eyes she’d once known so well. She took him by the branch hands, careful not to crush the spindly fingers. “Po Teng... Boden?” It came out as a whisper. Her eyes welled with tears, blurring her vision until she blinked and they ran down her cheeks.

  Po Teng nodded. “Po-teng.”

  “Retar’s blessing,” she said. “It’s you. My dear friend, it’s you.”

  “Chaw-lah, Po-teng flengz.”

  Yes,“ she said, nodding. ”We’re friends. We’ll always be friends. Oh, Boden.“ She burst into tears, happy to see him, horrified that he’d become this twisted, inhuman creature, grateful he was with her. The fact that he was alive filled her with joy, regardless of his form. He was alive.

  “Le-meh-pah.”

  “You remember,” she said, now recognizing the word. “I’m so glad you’re with me and grateful for your help.” Sundancer’s words came back to her. Man I drowned. He is ally now. Now it made sense to her. She’d observed Boden at the moment of his death as she had the assassin, opening the way to the other realm of perception for them, to transform them into the otherworldly beings she called allies. Mouse Ears was probably an ally, too, waiting for her to call him. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I did this to you, and I’m sorry.”

  Po Teng shook his head and then put his branch-like arms gently around her shoulders. “Luff Chaw-lah.”

  “I love you too, Boden,” she said, though calling him by his old name, his human name, felt wrong. “Po Teng,” she said, pulling back. “You’re not truly Boden anymore. I’ll call you Po Teng from now on. It suits you.” She looked up at the camp and rolled back onto to her feet, though she remained crouched to avoid drawing attention to herself. “We should get going before someone spots us or the boat. The man we’re here to kill is your former commander, Turounce. Will you still recognize him?”

  Po Teng nodded. “Le-meh-pah.”

  “Good. I don’t want to kill anyone else if we don’t have to. Can you incapacitate people somehow without killing them?”

  Again Po Teng nodded. “Suh-leep.”

  “You’re full of surprises today, aren’t you?”

  Po Teng grinned.

  “Let’s see if he’s awake.” She used the Mindstream to observe the commander and then pulled her mystical vision upward through the roof of the building. She saw the camp and all its tents, and she saw herself and the dinghy on the beach. To her relief and great fortune, there were no soldiers patrolling the area. The two fleet ships anchored offshore were too far away to notice her. Perhaps the boat would be safe here for the short time they would be gone.

  She turned to her ally. “All right, my friend. Let’s get this over with.”

  Outside the realm of perception, Jora and Po Teng hiked unseen for a mile or so. It was challenging at first, not being able to feel her body move or the ground under her feet. Until she got used to the odd sensation of moving in the familiar rhythm of walking while guiding it from her Mindstream perspective behind and above her left shoulder, her steps were halting and clumsy. Soon, she learned to trust her body’s innate knowledge, and her gait smoothed out.

  They stopped beside the first tent they came to. Men walked about, completely unaware of the strangers in their midst. She passed a soldier talking with another, somewhat older soldier with a single stripe on his arm band. Though she couldn’t hear them with her ears, she was aware in the Mindstreaming sense that they were arguing about right and wrong, about loyalty and treason.

  Po Teng murmured, “Kaw-leng,” but Jora didn’t press him to explain. Only one thing was on her mind. She walked around the soldiers and up the step of the building in which the commander had been sitting. On her left was a command board. A man with one arm was posting a piece of paper there, and an adept was walking down a hallway.

  Take precautions. She could be anywhere.

  Jora smiled. So they’d anticipated she would come here to dispense justice. Little good their warning did.

  She followed the adept down the corridor to the room on the left and entered without knocking. He wouldn’t hear her anyway.

  Turounce was sitting at his desk. The adept opposite, hood down, was pacing. Boden’s journal sat on the desk, though it had been set aside. The transcribed pages poked out from under the cover. A large, reddish-brown stain on the floor sent a shudder through her. It looked like someone had met his end there in that very room.

  For a moment, she considered giving Turounce a chance to explain himself, but that was more consideration than he deserved. The people of Kaild hadn’t been given a chance to beg for their lives or to hear an explanation for why they were about to be massacred.

  “Po Teng, kill him.”

  Po Teng looked at her guiltily, lifting his arms as if in a shrug.

  “What’s wrong? Can’t you leave the ’twixt without me?”

  He shook his head.

  All right, then. Turounce would see who was responsible for his death. Jora entered the realm of perception, accompanied by Po Teng.

  “...on his way now—” the Truth Sayer said.

  Both men startled at the sudden appearance of the woman and the tree-like creature in the room. Po Teng touched Turounce’s arm. The commander’s skin paled, and he froze in place, mouth still open in shock. His lips and tongue turned a sickly gray.

  Jora felt a flood of relief, guilt, horror, and satisfaction. She wished she didn’t have to be the one to carry out the death sentence, but it was what he deserved. He and the men who conspired to murder her people.

  The Truth Sayer, an adept, took a step backward and put his hands up defensively. “N-Novice J-Jora?”

  She held up one finger as a warning. “Call for help, Adept, and you’ll get what he got.”

  The adept shook his head.

  “I didn’t come to kill you,” she said. “Only the man who ordered the deaths of my family, friends, and neighbors in Kaild. If you attack me or call for the soldiers, I’ll have to defend myself.”

  “I won’t.” The adept took another step back to prove it. “I won’t.”

  “You might want to lie down so you don’t awaken with a bruise.”

  “W-What?”

  “You’re going to take a nap. I don’t want you calling for help the second I leave. Don’t worry. You’ll awaken none the worse for wear.”

  The adept settled onto the floor, stretched out on his back with his fingers laced over his belly. He glared at her indignantly. “In the end, justice will prevail.”

  With Po Teng’s touch, the adept fell fast asleep and snored softly.

  “You’re right, Adept. Justice will prevail. I’ll see to it.”

  Footsteps approached. Two pairs, from the sound of it. The two soldiers she’d passed earlier entered and stopped short, surprise on their faces.

  “Make them sleep, Po Teng,” she said.

  The one with the striped arm band went down first, collapsing into a heap. “Kaw-leng,” Po Teng said, hesitating.

  Blinking hard, the soldier gaped at Po Teng. “God’s Challenger, that thing’s real?”

  “Po Teng!” Jora said, urging him to sleep the second soldier.

  Po Teng looked at her with pleading eyes. “Kaw-leng flengz.”

  “Did it say Korlan?” the soldier asked. “Oh no. It’s happening. They’re coming for me.”

  “Shhh! No one’s coming for you,” Jora said, motioning with her hands to try to calm him. “Po Teng, do you know him?”

  The little tree-figure nodded. “Le-meh-pah.”

  “How the hell does it know my name?” the soldier asked with a haunted look in his eyes.

  Jora felt a mixture of trepidation and relief. If this was Boden’s friend, perhaps he could help her, but first he had to calm down so as not to draw attention to them. “He won’t hurt you. He was once your friend Boden. Apparently he remembers you.”

  “That...” Korlan said, pointing at the nodding ally, “that’s Boden?”

  “Yes. I ca
ll him Po Teng now.”

  He stared wide-eyed at Po Teng, curiosity overcoming fear. “God’s Challenger. What the hell happened to you, brother?”

  Jora smiled dimly. “It’s a long story.”

  Korlan turned to her, surprise on his face. “Challenger’s fists! You must be Jora. I’ve heard all about you. It’s good to finally meet you. I’m Korlan.”

  She shook his offered hand. “So I gathered.”

  Korlan looked around. “So Turounce is dead? Good going, Bo—I mean, Po Teng. Serves the bastard right. How’d you get in here without being seen?”

  “That’s a long story, too. I’d love to stay and chat, but we have to dash.”

  “Um, any chance I could come with you? They were going to execute me.”

  Po Teng nodded enthusiastically. “Kaw-leng come.”

  “It’d be nice to have some companionship—human companionship, I mean, at least until you decide what you want to do. Being a deserter will make you a criminal.”

  “Better than being dead,” he replied with a grim smile. “How are we going to manage to get away with all the soldiers around?” He unbuckled the sword from Turounce’s corpse and strapped it on.

  “Don’t worry about that,” she said, winking at Po Teng. “We’ve got that covered. I have to warn you, though. The way out of here is going to be uncomfortable. You won’t be able to see or hear or feel anything, like having all your senses extinguished.”

  “All right,” he said. “If I can handle dying and seeing... monsters, I can handle this.”

  Jora held Korlan’s hand, and together they entered the ’twixt.

  “Whoa,” Korlan said. “This is strange. Am I talking? Are you there? Jora?”

  She sensed his rising panic and patted his arm to offer comfort, but immediately realized he wouldn’t have felt it any more than he would have heard a spoken word. Instead, she led him back to the helix. “I’m here. It’s all right. See what I mean?”