Rended Souls

by Daniel Kuhnley

  Urza rolled over and faced Rakzar. “She came looking for the boy.”

  “The White Knight?” He breathed deep but didn’t detect Alderan’s scent. “He was here too?”

  “No, she just thought he might’ve come here.”

  Rakzar moved over to the fire. Its warmth felt good on his smooth skin, but the skin didn’t feel good on him. He removed the lizard’s eye ring from his finger and braced for the transformation. It came in convulsing waves, as it always did. His body contorted, twisted, and morphed from a disgusting lizard creature back into his normal, seven-foot-tall gnoll form. He hated the ring, but it allowed him to move freely amongst his enemies. He placed it on the mantle.

  Urza stared up at him, a slight smile parted her snout.

  “What?” he growled.

  “Your fur has started to fill in nicely. You can hardly see the scars anymore underneath it.”

  Rakzar eyed his stomach. White fur grew over the scars, a stark contrast to the red fur that covered the rest of him. “I don’t care about the scars.”

  “I know, but I do.” Her voice broke as tears rolled down her fur-covered cheeks. She took a deep breath and regained her composure. “I gave them to you, and I hate myself for it.”

  Rakzar gazed into the flames. “You followed Murtag’s orders. He gave you no choice. If you hadn’t, neither of us would be alive.”

  “Would that be so bad? I won’t be here for much longer anyway.”

  “Don’t talk like that.” He bent down and rubbed her nose with his. “I will find a way to undo this damned spell. You just need to hold on a bit longer.”

  Urza lifted her head and tried to lick Rakzar’s cheek, but her dry tongue caught in his fur. She sighed. “For better or worse… I think that’s part of what makes the spell so horrific. I believe I’ll hang on for quite some time yet, and you’ll have to watch me waste away to nothing.” She lay her head back on the floor and closed her eyes. “You should just kill me now and save yourself the pain. Save me the pain.”

  “No!” Rakzar stood and roared. “There’s no way I’d ever take your life, Urza.”

  But I could strangle you right now.

  The irony of the thought gave him pause. He looked down at his hands. How many lives had they taken over the years? How much blood had they spilled? He deserved death. Why hadn’t the White Knight let him die on the beach?

  If Urza dies, I’ll blame you, White Knight.

  “You would’ve done so a few weeks ago without a second thought. Now isn’t the time to be soft. End me before I suffer further.”

  “You know I can’t and won’t do that. I’ll find a way to save you if it’s the last thing I do. You’re all I have left.”

  “That isn’t true. Never lose sight of what’s around you.” Urza coughed and cleared her throat. “Several others care about you just as much as I do.”

  Rakzar snarled, “Your sickness has made you delusional. Face the truth. We. Are. Alone.”

  Forever.

  He retreated to the kitchen and leaned on the table, his mind swimming. Cold, dark waves crashed all around him, and the ocean’s undertow threatened to pull him under once again. Emptiness and despair suffocated him like the water had that day. A loneliness, so deep and complete, ravaged him and pulled him to the floor.

  His hands trembled, and his eyes stung with tears. Agony rose in his throat and manifested in a deep groan. On his knees, he bowed his head.

  Ƨäʈūr, if You’re there, do what You must with me, but I beg of You, don’t let her death be by my hands. She deserves so much more. A full life. I can’t handle losing her. I will gladly suffer anything else.

  Snot hung from his snout and tears clung to his fur, but his moment of despair had passed. He wiped his face and snout with his forearms and rose from the floor. An empty bowl sat on the table’s edge. He took the bowl and filled it with water.

  Returning to the living area with the bowl of water, Rakzar set it on the floor next to Urza’s head. “Drink it. It’ll make you feel better.”

  Urza lifted her head and pulled the bowl closer. She lapped at the water until most of it had been drunk. She pushed it away with her snout. “Thank you.” Her voice sounded better than it had earlier. Less gravelly.

  Rakzar curled up next to Urza. “What am I going to do? How can I save you from this fate?”

  Urza rested her head on his arm. “Rayah had a suggestion.”

  “You told the dryte about me?” He slammed his fist into the wooden floor. Several planks jumped in a rippling effect, and a small dust cloud rose in its wake.

  Urza lifted her head and sneezed twice. “She wouldn’t leave until I explained the situation to her, and I didn’t want her here when you came back. I didn’t think you’d want to look after two dying friends.”

  Friends… The dryte hates me. But could he blame her?

  Rakzar growled, “And what did she suggest? I pray to Ƨäʈūr about it?” He already had, but he’d never admit it to Urza or anyone else for that matter.

  Urza cocked her head. “What? Why would she suggest that?”

  “Never mind. Go on.”

  “She said that you might be able to break the spell by killing Käíeƨ.”

  Rakzar rose up on his elbows and glared at Urza. “And you believe I hadn’t thought of that?”

  She glared back. It was the first time Rakzar had witnessed fire in her eyes in more than a week. Hope welled in his chest.

  “I’m not saying you didn’t, but Rayah had a good point,” said Urza. “Kill Käíeƨ and maybe the spell dies with her… or them.”

  Rakzar rolled over and stared at the ceiling. The patch he’d made to the roof still held. “And what am I supposed to do? Leave you here? You know I can’t do that.”

  Urza grabbed his arm. She still had strength. “You must. If you just stay here with me, I will certainly die. Is that what you want?”

  Rakzar flung her hand off and jumped to his feet. He pointed a finger at her and spoke through clenched jaws. “I told you to stay away from me to begin with. This is your fault.”

  “It doesn’t matter who’s to blame, Rakzar. We’re in this situation now.” She rose on all fours. “Deal with it. Man up. Do something about it instead of just lying around complaining.” She turned and headed toward the front door.

  He met her at the door and flung it open. “Fine. I’ll go get myself killed trying to kill Käíeƨ.”

  Urza was right, and he hated her for it. Not so much hated her but hated that she knew him better than he knew himself at times. He couldn’t just sit around and do nothing. His nature wouldn’t allow it. He knew nothing but action.

  How in the world can I kill a creature like Käíeƨ?

  She could phase in and out of solidity, and that would be an issue. He had no idea how to overcome that, but he’d do everything possible to figure it out. He had no choice. Urza’s life depended on him succeeding.

  What if I kill her but it doesn’t break the spell?

  He pushed the thought from his mind.

  I won’t allow Urza to die.

  Urza walked outside and into the snow.

  He followed her. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  She looked back over her shoulder. “To relieve myself. You coming to watch?”

  “Not a chance.” He went back inside, grabbed the brown sack off the chair, and then retrieved the ring from atop the fireplace mantle. He dropped the ring in the bag and slung the bag over his shoulder. Satisfied he had nothing else to take with him, he headed back outside.

  Urza rounded the far corner of the house and headed back toward Rakzar and the front door. “I know you’re not stupid enough to go get yourself killed without a plan, so where are you off to?”

  “I need to go for a run so that I can think.”

  “You’re not going to wear the ring then?”

  “Not for this. I’m faster in my natural form. Besides, it�
�s disgusting walking around as a saurian.” The thought sent tremors racing through him.

  Urza snorted. “Can’t be as bad as the way you smell when you turn into one.”

  Rakzar shook his head. “Nice. I’ll be back in an hour or two. Will you manage while I’m gone?”

  Her left eyebrow rose. “I’m not dead yet. Besides, Rayah said she’d drop in again to check on me.”

  What kind of game is that dryte playing?

  He didn’t have the time or desire to think about it. “Fine.”

  Rakzar dropped on all fours and headed into the falling snow without saying another word. Each step propelled him toward a destiny he could no longer avoid. Urza needed him, and he wouldn’t let her down.

  I don’t know how I’ll save you, but I’ll die trying.

  † † †

  About thirty minutes later, Rakzar found himself on the same beach where he’d died a few weeks ago. When he left Alderan’s house, he hadn’t planned on returning to that spot, yet there he stood. That day, after Zerenity and Alderan had brought him back from the depths of darkness and despair, he’d vowed to be better. To serve a penance for all the bloodshed he’d caused. To redeem his soul—if he actually had one. However, his efforts only led to more death.

  First Amicus. Urza will follow soon.

  How many more lives would he take before death came for him? How would he find the answer to defeat Käíeƨ without jeopardizing more lives? He’d read through every book under Alderan’s house—at least the ones in High Centaurian—and found nothing.

  An answer must exist.

  He kicked the sand and growled at the incoming waves. “Why didn’t you kill me when you had the chance?”

  “Are you talking to me or the waves?”

  Rakzar knew that voice, and his fur stood on end, but he refused to turn around and face his approaching dark demon. “I buried you with your family, Shadowman.”

  “You certainly did, and I appreciate it,” said Amicus.

  “Then why are you here?” he growled. “I’ve got enough on my mind without you rising from the dead. Go be with your family.”

  Amicus stopped just beyond Rakzar, facing the ocean. “Would if I could, but you and I must have some unfinished business.”

  Rakzar looked down at Amicus. A thin, scarlet line circled Amicus’s neck. Memories of Amicus’s death played in Rakzar’s mind: Wibble’s wire ripped through Amicus’s flesh again, and Amicus’s head tumbled from his narrow shoulders. Then Amicus, his severed head on a pike, blamed Rakzar for getting him killed.

  “No, we don’t.” Rakzar glared skyward. I don’t need this. Do you hear me, Ƨäʈūr? Have I not suffered enough?

  Amicus shrugged. “If we don’t, then why did you bring me here?”

  Rakzar growled. “I didn’t. You’re dead. Now get out of my head before I detach yours.”

  Amicus rubbed his neck. “Ouch!” He turned and gazed up at Rakzar, a hint of hurt in his eyes and voice. “Don’t you think it’s a bit too soon for comments like that? I’ve only been dead a short while, my friend.”

  Rakzar regretted the comment, even to a dead man haunting him, but he’d never own up to it. Instead, he matched Amicus’s stare and crossed his arms but said nothing.

  A grin spread Amicus’s lips. “I’m just playing with you. Lighten up, you furry beast. You act like you’re the one who’s dead.” He reached out and grabbed Rakzar’s elbow.

  Rakzar jerked his arm away, not expecting to feel Amicus’s touch. “How did you do that? You’re dead.”

  “Everything I do and say comes from your head. The mind is a powerful thing. It’s obvious you need to work through something. Ah, yes, Käíeƨ.” Amicus sat down in the sand and patted the spot next to him. “Sit down, and let’s figure it out together.”

  Rakzar plopped down on the cold, damp sand and stared at the Gelu Ocean. “After you died, that wretched thing cursed me. Now Urza is dying because of it, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

  “A solution always exists, but you must dig deep to find it.”

  “Dig deep?” Rakzar dug his hand into the sand and grabbed a fistful it.

  Amicus chuckled. “Physically is one approach.”

  Rakzar squeezed the sand until his knuckles ached. When he opened his hand, the sand didn’t sift through his fingers. Instead, it just sat there, clumped together in a misshapen ball. The pressure he’d applied to it, combined with the ocean water, held it together.

  Rakzar stared at the ball of sand. If only it were Käíeƨ’s neck. He chucked the sand ball into the encroaching waves. “This is useless.”

  “On the contrary, my friend. You are far cleverer than you let on.” Amicus reached down, grabbed a fistful of sand, and squeezed it into a ball. He held it up and examined it. “There must be a way to keep Käíeƨ in her solid form.”

  Understanding rocked Rakzar. “Like the sand…” His mind raced to find a solution. “But what could do that?”

  Amicus scratched his chin. “Perhaps some sort of spell or containment field would do the trick.”

  “A weapon… or an object.” Rakzar swept his arm through the sand and flung the sand at the waves. “But how can I find the answer?”

  “You have resources. Use them. After all, what are friends for?” Amicus winked at him.

  “That’s creepy,” growled Rakzar. “Don’t ever do it again.”

  Amicus laughed aloud. “All in your head, my friend!”

  Rakzar knew someone who might have an answer. Or at least Rayah did.

  But why would the dryte help me?

  A deep, dark, hideous thought crept into Rakzar’s mind.

  Infect her, and she’ll have no choice.

  He boxed his ears and roared at the ocean. “No! I will not risk another life.”

  “Life is precious, especially that of friends, but sometimes you must take risks that endanger them in order to save others.”

  “I got you killed!” roared Rakzar.

  “I knew the risks going into that cave.” Amicus grabbed Rakzar’s arm again. “You didn’t drag me in there. I chose to go. Besides, it led me right where I belong.”

  “But the dryte hates me.” Rakzar stood and approached the incoming tide. “She’ll never agree to help.”

  “You tried to kill her and Alderan on several occasions,” yelled Amicus, “but I think she’ll come around. She has as much heart and pride as you. You’re more alike than you may think.”

  Clarity came to Rakzar in the form of another dastardly thought, but far less hideous than the first. “Rayah will help me if she thinks Shalaidah’s life is in danger.”

  Amicus suddenly stood next to Rakzar. “And what do you think she’ll do when she finds out you lied to her?”

  “It’s not a lie. If Rayah doesn’t come along, I will be forced to go see Shalaidah myself, putting her life in danger.”

  “Sounds dishonest to me.”

  Rakzar retreated several paces as the tide drew near. “No one asked you, Shadowman.”

  Amicus laughed. “Then why am I here?”

  Rakzar brushed the sand from his fur, satisfied with his plan. He glanced back at Amicus and growled, “Don’t follow me.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Amicus winked at him again.

  Rakzar shuddered, dropped onto all fours, and tore across the beach.

  I know I can save you, Urza.

  Chapter Ten

  Alderan moved past Wizard Wrik and entered the bedchamber. The drab room was cozy if not cramped and smelled of fresh-cut cedar. A large bed and a small desk, too small for even Alderan, lined the opposing wall.

  To the right of the door sat a table and two chairs, shoved into the corner. The hearth inset in the wall between the table and bed lay dormant. Four logs sat on its stone surface, three propped up on one another and the other between the three. A small pile of cut wood stacked to the right side of the hearth.

 
The room leeched warmth from Alderan like a soul-sucking wraith. His teeth chattered, and gooseflesh prickled his skin. He rubbed his arms with fervor. “Do you mind if I build a fire?”

  “Build a fire? How archaic,” jested Wrik. “Are we not wizards?”

  Heat rose in Alderan’s cheeks. “I don’t know—” Rayah’s words about keeping his weaknesses to himself filled his mind. He started again, “I prefer to use mezhik only when necessary.”

  Wrik pointed at the hearth. “Ƨäʈ äbəlläíz.” A ball of purple flames shot from his hand, streaked across the room, and struck the four logs on the hearth. The logs caught fire, and the flames transitioned from purple to blue-and-orange.

  Alderan shook his head. Showoff. He moved in front of the hearth and warmed his hands. He peered back over his shoulder. “Thank you.”

  Wrik frowned. “I trust that you’ll touch nothing while I’m away?”

  Alderan gave Wrik a curt nod and returned his gaze to the fire. He grinned. Nothing that doesn’t interest me.

  “Very well. I’ll return within the hour with Aria.” Wrik exited the room and closed the door. The locking mechanism clicked as it engaged.

  Alderan stood before the fire until it chased the last of the chill from his cold bones. He could’ve used something to eat, but it didn’t look like Wrik stocked food in the room. His stomach would have to wait.

  Piles of papers and books covered every inch of the table’s surface. Alderan pulled out a chair and sat down. After twiddling his thumbs for a solid minute, he decided to peruse the closest stack of papers. He grabbed the top piece of paper.

  “Fädinzh dhä Bəllek… could be interesting.” The first few sentences captivated him, so he read through the rest of it. By the time he reached the end, he found himself frostbitten with fear.

  The Black Wedding. I wonder if the prophecy’s been fulfilled.

  He grabbed the next piece of paper, read the first sentence, and tossed it aside. “Boring.”

  He snatched one of the books off the table and rifled through it, but it didn’t grab his attention. However, the title of one of the other books in the pile did. He yanked it out from underneath three other books, and the entire pile tumbled off the table and thwacked the granite floor.