Word of Truth

by Rhett C. Bruno

  “Did you see her? Do you know where she is?” Whitney asked.

  “Where are we going?” Sora asked.

  “We just had to get away from the city. We had… trouble.”

  Aquira leaped down from her perch and curled up on Sora’s lap.

  “What do ye know, Girly?” Tum Tum asked.

  “I saw Nesilia and…” Her throat was parched. She smacked her lips, licked them, but still couldn’t get the words out.

  “And what? What did she do to you?” Whitney asked. He must have noticed her struggle because he retrieved a mug from the cartographer’s table and filled it from another container in the corner.

  Sora drank deeply, and almost spat the liquid out when she tasted the bitterness of the Glintish ale. She coughed a few times, then said, “She wasn’t alone.”

  “Her army? More grimaurs? Goblins?”

  “Thousands of Panpingese people, possessed by demons of Elsewhere. Slaves to her. And wianu, many of them. Broken free from their prison in the Citadel.” She knew she was talking fast, and she felt out of breath, but the images still overwhelmed her.

  “Aye, that be great,” Tum Tum groaned. “Those slimy monsters.”

  “Is that it?” Whitney said. “We already beat all that—well, minus the possessed. That’s new everywhere, apparently. But, I’d rather deal with scrawny Panpingese than Drav Cra beserkers.”

  “That’s not all.” Sora pulled her kimono tightly around her, then stroked Aquira’s back. “Queen Bliss,” she said softly.

  “What?” Whitney questioned, eyes going wide.

  “Queen Bliss,” Sora repeated.

  What followed was silence, thick as blood.

  “Sure…” Whitney said, voice lilting, skeptical. “But we saw her in Nowhere, too, remember? She chased us—I thought we were dead… but it was just Nesilia playing games with our minds.”

  “No,” Sora said, terse. “This was different. They’re working together now. I felt it… and Whitney—“

  She thought about telling him about Kazimir, but she knew that part wasn’t real. It would only hurt him. It was clear that Troborough was a vision of Elsewhere—she’d seen it plenty of times in her mind and even once with Whitney. But Panping, that was as real as the ground beneath her.

  She knew now that Nesilia wasn’t inside of her—but the soul tie had to be real. She was tethered to the goddess like a dog on a leash, and she couldn’t escape the worry that she, herself, was the dog.

  “It was Troborough,” she said. “But not Troborough-Troborough, and they were both there. Torsten was there.”

  “Father Drimmond,” Whitney whispered. “Fake Torsten. Shog in a barrel, Sora. You were in Elsewhere. My Elsewhere.”

  “I think so, too. It was just as real as it had been—but there were no monsters this time, except…” She again thought of mentioning Kazimir, but after a long hesitation, she said, “Bliss was in Aihara Na’s body. The mystic Ancient One. I know it was really her, too. I just know. I can’t explain how, but I do.”

  “Could’ve been a trick of the mind,” Tum Tum offered. “Them mystics be sneaky.”

  Sora shot him a gelid glare.

  “Present company excluded, course.”

  “Okay, I want you to tell us everything—but wait…” Whitney pointed to the door. “Tum Tum, can you go wake Lucindur?”

  “I’ll get her. Need to check on the sails, anyway.”

  After Tum Tum disappeared, Whitney took Sora by the hand. “Listen, Sora, we’re going to stop her,” he said. “For what she did to you and what she’s planning. We have to. Lucindur and I agreed. We’re going to find her again and finish her this time.”

  Sora nodded. “I’m scared.”

  “Yigging right, you are. We all are. But when has a little fear stopped us?” He squeezed her hand. “We killed Bliss once. We exorcised Nesilia. We’ve won, over and over again. You know who should be scared? Yeah, that’s right, the Buried-yigging-Goddess should be terrified. Shaking in Sigrid’s skin.”

  Sora offered a hollow grin.

  “Just promise me something,” Whitney said.

  “Anything,” she said.

  “Promise you forgive me?” Whitney said.

  “Whit—“

  “I just need to hear you say it.”

  Sora looked down for a moment.

  “I know I shouldn’t have left Troborough,” he said. “I shouldn’t have abandoned you. You should hate me.”

  Sora realized that Whitney misunderstood her movement.

  “I thought last night said all I needed to. Do you even remember?” she said. “Wait… last night really happened, right?”

  “I thought it was pretty memorable,” Whitney said, smirking.

  “Well, then you know me. Would I do… that… with someone I hate? Of course, I forgive you,” she said, wiping a tear. “And I love you. More than anything.” She stood and threw her arms around him just as Tum Tum re-entered the room with Lucindur in tow.

  “Sora,” Lucindur said, bowing her head. “Good to see you up.”

  “Good to see you as well,” Sora said.

  “Oh, and she speaks!” Lucindur joked. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better,” she said.

  Realizing she was still hugging Whitney, she let him go and dropped to the flats of her feet. No other words came to mind. Sora and Lucindur barely knew each other. They’d spent less than a month together sailing back from Brekliodad, and Sora had said less than a sentence, cumulatively, during that time. All Sora knew was that she was a practitioner of Lightmancery, old magic that the tomes in Wetzel’s cabin and the Red Tower all said was extinct.

  They said the Buried Goddess was gone as well, Sora thought. And the mystics…

  “Aye, well. We’re runnin out of time for pleasantries,” Tum Tum said. “Let’s get killin gods. Tell us what ye know.”

  Sora couldn’t take her eyes off Lucindur, wondering how much she could be trusted. Sure, she’d been there when Whitney had saved her from Nesilia in the Citadel, and she’d played her part, but so had Kazimir, and if he’d still been alive, Sora wouldn’t trust him.

  The Lightmancer spoke up as if reading Sora’s mind.

  “I know we don’t know each other well, dear,” she said, “but I know how wonderful Whitney thinks you are, and how wonderful we think Whitney is, despite his mouth.”

  “Hey!” Whitney protested.

  Lucindur ignored him and went on. “I hope his trust goes both ways?”

  “My home…” Sora said.

  “Troborough?” Lucindur asked.

  It was then that Sora realized she wasn’t talking about Troborough but Panping.

  “The darkness on the horizon speaks of the condition of Yaolin City,” Sora said.

  “I thought as much.”

  “It’s worse than you can imagine,” Sora continued. “Nesilia’s following is growing. It’s not just fire—there’s death everywhere. Everywhere. And the demons. How do you beat an army who possesses bodies they hold in no regard?”

  “More possessed?” Lucindur said. She crossed the room, shaking her head. “We encountered some in Myen Elnoir when we…” A deep pain rippled across her features. “All I know is she wants us dead.”

  “She said as much when she spoke to me,” Sora said. “Whitney, especially.”

  “Wait, what?” Whitney asked.

  “She blames you for taking my body from her. For taking me from her. She thought she almost had me on her side.”

  “Well then, she clearly doesn’t know you.”

  Sora looked to him, biting her lip. “That’s the thing, Whit, she almost did. She’s so powerful now. So dominating. I don’t know who’d be able to resist her…” Sora’s jaw clenched, and her fists balled involuntarily.

  Whitney grasped her hand. “You did. We will.” He released her and strode into the center of the room. “She has another thing coming if she thinks she can hunt me down. Many have tried.”

  “Ay
e!” Tum Tum attested.

  “Now’s not the time for senseless bravado,” Lucindur remarked. That pain returned to her eyes, more profound this time. Then, low but loud enough for Sora to overhear, she said, “We know what’s at stake…”

  “It wasn’t senseless,” Whitney said under his breath. “So, we know where she is now, but how do we stop her and make sure she can never hurt Sora again.”

  “She’s in Panping, aye?” Tum Tum said. “How bout another one of them trinkets we used to trap her the first time? We sneak into Yaolin—“

  “Sneak passed thousands of demons?” Sora said.

  “An easy task when you’ve already encountered the Whispering Wizards,” Whitney boasted, “Only, there are no more bar guais. That one we used in the Citadel… that was the last one, or at least, that’s what Kai said.”

  “Kai?” Sora asked. A sudden twinge of guilt flooded her as she thought about the boy. Then it struck her—that must have been how Whitney found out who her true parents were.

  “You saw Kai?” she asked. “Where is he? Is he okay?”

  Whitney’s head lowered, and Sora’s heart sank. She knew what he was going to say before it came out. “Dead.”

  Sora listened in the relative silence as waves slapped the sides of the ship. Then, unable to look Whitney in the eye, she asked, “Did… did you and Kazimir kill—“

  “Whoa! Sora, no. Wasn’t us. It was Gold Grin.”

  The mere mention of the pirate king sent a chill through Sora that had nothing to do with perspiration. Her gaze flitted toward the bed, where in this very cabin, Nesilia had taken control of her, made her do things. She could still see it all clearly. Feel it… she shuddered.

  “Then another person deserves our revenge on Nesilia,” she growled, hoping nobody had noticed her reaction.

  Whitney cleared his throat. He eyed her with gentle suspicion but didn’t push. “And we’ll get it,” he said.

  Tum Tum stepped forward. “So, it won’t be the bar guai. How we gonna stop her?”

  “I don’t know,” Sora admitted. “You saw how powerful she was in me. Now, she has an immortal upyr as a host.”

  “I’ve been thinking about this since the Citadel,” Lucindur said.

  “Oh yeah?” Whitney asked. “I knew you weren’t going to abandon this heroic quest.”

  Lucindur stared blankly at him, and the smile left his face. Sora made a mental note to learn that trick.

  “As I understand it,” the Lightmancer said, “Nesilia is subject to the weaknesses of her host. That is what I felt when I entered her mind. Yes, Sora?”

  “I… I don’t know for sure with Sigrid,” Sora said. “But I think so. Yeah. She definitely had my strengths.”

  “What about sunlight?” Lucindur offered.

  “That won’t kill her,” Whitney said. “It’ll kill Sigrid, but Nesilia can just pop into another body. We need to contain her in something as powerful as a bar guai.”

  “Would any of them treasures ye’ve hidden round Pantego help?” Tum Tum asked.

  Whitney scratched his chin. “There is the splintered staff…” he said, hanging on the last word.

  “It has to be as powerful as the life force of countless ancient mystics,” Sora said. “Able to tap directly into the magic of Elsewhere. Whitney, now is the time to be honest. If you have anything like that hidden, you’d know it.”

  He opened his mouth, stopped himself. Then he did it again. The third time, he was left standing silently, still scratching his chin.

  “The bar guai can’t be the only magical artifact in the world powerful enough to store a soul like hers,” Lucindur said. “We have to trust Kazimir knew that was the best way.”

  “Trust him,” Sora remarked.

  “Yeah him,” Whitney said. “Whatever he was, he was the oldest of us by… Iam-knows-how-many-centuries. He probably watched the God Feud. He knew. The Well of Wisdom told us so.”

  “He entered the Well of Wisdom?” Sora asked, incredulous. The thought of an upyr communing with such a sacred source made her uneasy. It was there, in those waters, where she learned who she truly was. And it was there she learned what she really cared about. The insufferable, handsome, annoying, charming man standing across from her defending an upyr. “I don’t believe it.”

  “So, did I,” Whitney said, and that gave Sora pause. “I don’t know why the mystics called it that. I didn’t learn anything in there.”

  “Then you weren’t paying attention,” Sora snapped, unintentionally.

  “Enough, you two,” Lucindur said. “We have to stay focused. I know of nothing in this region. Even the instruments of the eldest Lightmancers were destroyed long ago.”

  “Hmmmmm,” Tum Tum said, finally breaking his silence. He stroked his scraggly black beard, then walked toward the outer wall of the cabin and stared through one of the low, circular windows.

  They all looked to him.

  “What is it?” Sora asked.

  “Might be nothin.”

  “Might be everything,” Whitney said. “Spit it out.”

  “Well, my people have a legend—might be just that. Tale tells of a stone held by the King of the Three Kingdoms. They call it the Brike Stone, after one of me own. Supposed to be, miner named Brike Sledgeborne made a deal with a dragon. If it helped him dig a new home far from the grasp of humans, it could have all their riches. But he tricked the beast, and it tricked him. Brike didn’t get to live in his new home, and the Dragon got no riches. Instead, they were both damned to see what they wanted for all eternity and never get it, their souls bound to the dragon’s heart. I don’t know, sounds made up, now that I’m sayin it. It’s prolly just a big ol ruby.”

  “No,” Lucindur said. “That’s good. I’ve heard the tale, too.”

  “The Brike Stone?” Whitney asked. “Sounds like hogwash. I think if such a thing existed, I’d have tried to steal it.”

  “I’m sure you haven’t heard of every treasure in Pantego,” Sora said.

  Whitney appeared wounded just by the very thought. “I guess that’s possible. Dwarves do tend to talk and sing about nonsense and get me zoning out.” He glanced at Tum Tum. “No offense.”

  “None taken. That be very true.”

  Lucindur ignored them and lifted her salfio off her back. She started to play and to sing. It wasn’t magical, or at least, didn’t seem to be. But her pretty voice and the pure sound of her strings had Sora instantly absorbed.

  Strike, strike, went the pickaxe O’ Brike

  Gold, and iron, and silver alike

  Piles and piles like never before

  Fell at the feet of the youngest Sledgeborne

  It was cold, he was tired, but he’d never abate

  Beneath miles of stone lay the call of his fate

  T’was none of the goodies that he’d mined before

  Which fell at the feet of the youngest Sledgeborne

  She slowed down and closed her eyes as if deep in thought.

  “Aye, that be a classic!” A huge smile appeared on Tum Tum’s lips as he took the lead, bobbing his head and singing the words way out of tune. Lucindur smiled as she went along with him.

  Strike, strike, went the pickaxe O’Brike

  Gold, and iron, and silver alike

  Grumble, grumble, the mountain did rumble

  As a monster bore down, Balonhearth crumbled

  Outside, far above, where the beasts of air fly

  Brike found the source of a terrible cry

  The dragon did land; there was no time to warn

  So he took up his pickaxe, the youngest Sledgeborne

  “I heard your beckon, I heard your call

  I’ll give you your home, in exchange for your gold”

  The dragon did taunt, and the dragon did spur

  He’d never expected what was to occur

  Strike, strike, went the pickaxe O’Brike

  A home was made, but the home wasn’t right

  “I’ll take the home, t
oo,” the dragon did say

  “And I’ll keep the gold,” said Brike clear as day

  Strike, strike, went the pickaxe O’Brike

  The dragon’s heart on the end of a spike

  But there was a price; Brike did pay a toll

  The cost was steep; the cost was his soul

  “That was beautiful,” Sora said.

  “Oh, yeah. Splendid. More singing,” Whitney groaned. Then he turned to Tum Tum and asked, “Do you know where it is—this Brike Stone? Or do you just know a dusty old tune?”

  “So moody,” Tum Tum said.

  “The world’s about to end, and you two are singing songs. I thought at least the salfio would do its little twinkly lights thing.”

  “You’re insufferable,” Lucindur said.

  “Isn’t he?” Sora added, stifling a snicker.

  “It’s why you love me,” Whitney said. “Now, the stone?”

  “Well, I never seen it with me own eyes, but I hear King Lorgit Cragrock has it in the Iron Bank—one of his many, but most-prized treasures. Like I said, probably just a big ruby, but it’s heavily guarded by the craziest and fiercest of dwarves. The clanbreakers. Spiky armor, shog-shucking crazy.”

  “Sounds scary,” Whitney said. “Nothing more frightening than half-pint men spinning with axes.”

  “Watch yer yiggin mouth,” Tum Tum warned.

  “Focus. Both of you,” Sora said. “Tum Tum, do you know the way?”

  “Wait a second,” Whitney interjected. “We are just going to go off into Dwarfland because of some song? How do we know this stone really exists, and if it does, that it’ll even do anything? I know what you all think of my old profession, and yes, I said profession, but I feel like I’d have heard of this.”

  “Or, maybe no thief was dumb enough to go after the Iron Bank,” Tum Tum argued. “It’s never been robbed. Never even been attempted.”

  “There’s nothing I’m not dumb enough to do,” Whitney said, probably not realizing it.

  “You have a better idea?” Sora asked.

  Whitney’s lip twisted. “Well, no—“

  “Then this is all we have. We can sit here and do nothing, waiting for Nesilia to send more demons after us, or we can go find something relatively close by that might… might have a chance at stopping her. And if not, we’ll find something else. I won’t stop…” She took a deep, shaky breath. “We can’t stop until she’s gone.”