by Rob J. Hayes
The embodiment of fear, anxiety. Mine. And now I feared to let it go.
There is no need to fear, Eskara. Ssserakis did not understand. Sevoari is not like this world. It is simpler. Here we are strong, but there we will be unmatched! We will retake our rightful place as lord of Sevoari, and teach the others for ever doubting our return.
I raised my left hand, a shadowy mimic of bone, each talon dripping with darkness. I drew on the Portamancy Source and the Impomancy Source at once, mixing the magic inside and directing the power through that arm. It was Ssserakis' connection to Sevoari that allowed me to find the realm, and my power that tore open a new hole in the world. Something that had never been done before. A portal to Sevoari.
Through that portal I could see the Other World. A lightless grey expanse. Everything in that place seemed to have softer edges than our world. There was a city in the far distance, lifeless and dull. It was Ssserakis' home, the place it had once ruled from. Where the light from our world spilled through the portal, the life in the Other World shied away. Blades of grass leaned from the portal and I saw small insects scurrying away, fleeing. The edges of the portal seemed to burn as though the contact of the two worlds was causing a violent combustion, and the sound was like a river made of roaring flame.
We will be a dark queen. Even Hyrenaak will bow before us. I could feel the truth of those words. Ssserakis' power was limited by the laws of Ovaeris, but in Sevoari, who knew what we could become.
"You'll need to be quick," I said. "The portal will not stay open for long." I drew on the Arcmancy Source in my stomach and set lightning crackling around my right hand. I could feel it tingling across my skin, the charge would be deadly.
What do you mean? Step through, Eskara. We will take our rightful place at the pinnacle of Sevoari.
"I'm not going, Ssserakis." I could feel fresh tears welling in my eyes. "I don't belong there any more than you belong here. I fear what we might become if we went there together."
But I cannot leave you, Eskara. I am bound to you as long as you live.
I smiled. "I know." I tried to move my arm, to slap it against my chest and let the lightning stop my heart, only to find my shadowy hand locked around my wrist, holding it still.
I will not let you die, Eska. There was real emotion in Ssserakis' voice. Not just fear or pride, but sorrow and determination. Why sacrifice yourself? We can go together. We belong together.
"Let go, Ssserakis."
Fine. Close the portal. I'll stay here.
"Let go."
I don't want to leave you!
"I swore to send you home."
I've changed my mind. I don't want to go.
Still Ssserakis held my death back from me, the strength in my shadowy arm irresistible. "What about saving your world? The monster eating away at the heart of it."
Let it die. I would rather stay here with you.
A horror so ancient it could almost remember the birth of its world, yet in many ways Ssserakis was so childish. It meant what it said, it would let Sevoari die to stay with me. But that was not a decision I could live with. I stopped my resistance, stopped trying to fight the strength of my shadow, and instead tried reason.
"Ssserakis. You have to go. You said yourself none of the others have the strength or the will to resist Norvet Meruun. If you stay with me, that monster will destroy an entire world. Your world. Your home. You have to go. Resist it. Kill it."
Come with me! Please. A last-ditch effort on my horror's part. My decision was made, and I would not unmake it. I felt the shadowy talons uncurl from around my wrist, and a sullen silence settled between us.
"Be quick, Ssserakis." I smiled. "Save your world."
Eska…
I slammed my lightning wreathed hand against my chest and for a brief moment felt the pain of it as the lightning surged inside and shocked my heart into stillness. Then I was toppling backward, my vision already fading.
You won, Lesray. That insidious call you put in me so long ago, I finally gave in. But fuck you if I didn't make it mean something in the end.
Chapter 38
I woke with a gasp to confusion and pain. It took a while for things to make sense and most of that time was spent dealing with a body that had almost forgotten how to live. Slowly, my vision cleared, and my mind made sense of the things I saw.
A dark, swollen face hovered above my own. One eye was shut, a cut above it leaving a line of dried blood. The nose was bent and bulging at the bridge and there were red grazes across the cheeks and chin. So badly battered was it, that it took a moment for me to recognise it as Hardt. A smile split the face and my heart surged with joy to see such a thing.
A deep breath led to agony and convinced me I had at least one broken rib. There have been many times in my life I have envied Josef's innate Biomancy. His ability to heal from any wound within minutes far outstrips my own ability to raise ghosts.
"Can you hear me, Eska?" Hardt's voice sounded a little slurred, as though spoken through swollen lips.
I nodded, still trying to draw in enough breath without my chest feeling as though it were imploding. Still trying to understand why. Why was I alive? Why had they brought me back to this life of pain? I was lying on my back and everything hurt. My chest, my head, my arms. No. My shadowy arm was gone. I had only the one arm again.
"Ssserakis?" My first word was part question, part plea. I felt the emptiness inside and knew the truth of it. My horror was gone. Back to its own world, back to being a lord of Sevoari. I could not contain my grief at the knowledge, nor the despair that rose up in me. I was alone again. I didn't want to be alone. It hurt to cry. With broken ribs and a body bruised from the fight, it hurt so much. Yet I couldn't stop the tears. It is so strange that we can force a loved one to go, and yet feel so abandoned when they do. Of course, Hardt did not understand, but he did what has always come most natural to him. Hardt held me and provided safety and comfort and assured me everything would be alright. He couldn't know the lie of his words. Things could not be alright, could never be alright. A part of me was gone. I kept waiting for Ssserakis' voice inside my head, the mocking whisper of my horror's words. But there was nothing. Only the question rolling around in mind over and over again. Why did Hardt have to bring me back? It was over. All the pain and effort and grief. I had finally worked up the courage to end it, and I had made my death mean something. Hadn't I earned oblivion? And yet he dragged me back to this world of agony and noise and… I hated him a little for that. Even as I loved him for the same thing.
After a time, I realised I could see stars. Up past Hardt's shoulder where the roof had caved in, the sky waited. Night had settled upon us and it was a clear sky. Stars twinkled and at the edge of the hole, I could just about see Lursa in dominance over Lokar, her red bulk stark against the black of the void. Something about the sight of the sky settled me. It was a feeling I had thought lost. The sky no longer seemed like something oppressive to fear, but an open expanse of endless possibility. Freedom.
"What happened to your face?" I asked from the floor. I didn't try to move. The mere idea of it seemed an impossibility.
Hardt smiled again and winced at the same time. "You told Tamura to stop me. We had a disagreement."
"Is he…"
"Fine, fine, fine." Tamura said with a giggle. I turned my head to see the crazy old Aspect perched on top of a fallen rock, cradling an arm in a sling, and sporting a face as bruised as Hardt's. "Like a house without foundation." And I saw the stress hidden behind his madness. Both my friends were in bad shape, beaten and injured, and it was me who had set them against one another. I have since gleaned the details of that fight from both of them and I must say I am sad I missed it. And even more sad I caused it.
"I'm alive?" It was half a question. I had died, I was certain of it. I felt myself die.
Hardt nodded. "Brought you back myself, the same way you did me up on Do'shan."
"Why?" I asked, tears in my eyes. "Why couldn't
you just let me die?" The crushing loneliness inside made me choke on the words.
Hardt rocked back and sat on his arse. He seemed to deflate, the strength fleeing him. "I couldn't. You've got too much to live for. No, don't argue with me. Just listen, Eska. For once in your life, just listen." He paused and grimaced. I said nothing. For once in my life, I said nothing.
"I know it's hard," Hardt continued. "You feel like everything is your fault. You try to take all the pain and guilt and grief, and make it your own. Ever since I met you down in the Pit, you've tried to protect us. You made yourself a target to take the heat from Isen, you stood up to Yorin when no one else would. You convinced us to try to escape, even when we called you crazy for it. And any time it didn't go well, you always blamed yourself. For your actions, for others', for things beyond anyone's control.
"I know how it makes you feel. Alone. Alone against the world. You feel like you have to take everyone else's burdens on your shoulders and yours alone. But you can't. Because you're not alone. You never have been. You have me, you have Tamura, you have Imiko. You have a daughter. You have Sirileth! We might not be perfect… We're not perfect. But we're here. We've always been here, right beside you. You're not alone, Eska!"
He was crying. I was crying. How did he know? How had he seen past all my defences right to my greatest fear? How did he know how to blot out that fear and make me feel… loved.
I cried then, really cried. I had no guard left, I had nothing to restrain me. I bawled out my pain and loss, and I cried in love and joy. I did it without reserve because I simply couldn't hold it in anymore. And all the while, Tamura held my hand, and Hardt gripped my shoulder. He was right. They had all been there with me, for me, every step of the way. Even when I tried to push them away, they had stayed with me. I might not deserve it. I didn't deserve it, didn't deserve them. But they were mine, all the same, and I was their's. And for all the pain of the life Hardt had brought me back to, he had also given me a second chance. A second chance to be a mother to my daughter. To be the mother for Sirileth that I should have been for Kento.
Hardt was right. About everything. One day, I imagine they'll write that on my tombstone.
"Josef…" The thought struck me so suddenly I tried to lurch upright. That was a bad idea. There is no relief from the pain of a broken rib, only the knowledge that it will get better with time. Time that never seems to move fast enough.
Hardt put two big hands on my shoulders and held me down. "We'll deal with moving you soon enough. Josef is alive. We think. It's really not that clear." Coby was gone, and she had ignored the one thing I asked of her. She left Josef here to die with me. But then, she owed me nothing.
"Can you help him?" A hard question to ask, especially of Hardt. The man who had killed his brother was in bad shape, and I was asking Hardt to help. I wonder if it crossed his mind that he could use the opportunity to kill Josef instead? Probably not. Hardt has always been better than I.
Hardt turned his head and I saw his jaw clench. "I don't know what's wrong with him. He's… beyond any healing I know of. I'm sorry, Eska."
"Help me up." I started to move, but Hardt kept his hands on my shoulders.
"You shouldn't move."
"Noted. Help me up." It took quite a struggle and even more pain before I was on my feet. I say on my feet, but I think more of my weight was supported by Hardt than myself. He limped over toward Josef and lowered me down by my friend's side.
Tamura crouched on the other side of Josef and met my eyes. "You cannot unmake grey."
I nodded at that. Life is an ever-changing thing. Our experiences, our actions, interactions, the people around us and the environments we inhabit. They all change us in ways that cannot be undone. I was not the young girl who had once made mischief in these halls, exploring where I shouldn't and dragging others into my trouble. I was not the girl who had sat upon the tallest tower of Fort Vernan, kicking her feet over a fatal drop and waiting for a battle with callous disregard for the lives she was about to take. I was no longer the young woman who had been sentenced to a life of digging down in the Pit, willing to manipulate anyone to reach my own goals. Nor was I the woman who had fallen in love up on a flying city, and given away a child because she did not feel ready to be a mother. I had been all those things, but they were not who I was, only part of what made me. I could not undo the things that made me, and nor could I undo what made Josef who he was now.
I reached out with my hand and paused before touching Josef. Tamura caught my eye and gave me a reassuring nod. I gripped hold of Josef's hand, feeling the icy chill of his skin, and squeezed. There was something there. I can't explain it. An awareness that went beyond touch or sight or sound. Josef opened his eyes and uncurled from his foetal position, his hand gripping mine tight. He straightened up until he was kneeling, and warmth returned to his flesh, though it felt hard and took on a metallic sheen. When finally he met my eyes, I felt my heart quicken and had to stifle a sob. People say in my eyes they can see a brooding storm beyond the horizon, but in Josef's eyes I saw everywhere he had ever been and every time he had ever lived. Yet at that moment, and for that time, he was lucid.
There were no words that could bridge the gap that had grown between Josef and I. No apologies could ever make up for the hurts we had dealt each other since the fall of Orran. But sometimes, when words cannot suffice, they are better left unsaid. With a lurch we were in each other's arm, and all the hurt and betrayal and time apart seemed petty things.
Chapter 39
Life is pain. Or so people say. They'll tell you that life is pain and suffering and misery and heartache. It's all true. Life is all those things. It is also joy and happiness and love and hope. And it's one more thing besides. No matter what you've been through, no matter what you're going through, no matter what will happen. Life is worth living, because the truth is, you only get one go round. There is no life after death, no rebirth, no glorious eternity in the realm of the gods. Life is life, and after it is death. You get just the one shot, a brief flicker of a moment in the grand scheme of things. So, you might as well live it. Make your brief flicker mean something, not to anyone else, but to yourself.
We stayed in the laboratory for a few days while Josef and I recovered well enough to travel. The little tahren steward seemed happy to show us around once he realised the Iron Legion was dead and not coming back. We freed the last of the prisoners down in the cells, over a hundred terrans huddled in the dark. They were fed from the laboratory stores and I led them out of Picarr, keeping them safe from both traps and Ghouls. A few of them thanked me and none of them met my gaze for long. I heard whispers though, they talked of the brooding storm behind my eyes and my missing arm, and I heard the name of Corpse Queen thrown around more than once. It seemed my reputation spread even to the darkest, most remote corners of Isha.
We found children locked away, not in cells, but in a room designed for two. They were Sourcerers and the steward claimed each was attuned to four different Sources. A boy and a girl, each no older than I had been when the Orran recruiters took me. The Iron Legion had changed them, his experiment on Josef and I repeated upon them, a forced bond of captivity cultivated between them. Apparently, when he thought I was dead, Loran tried to create more chosen ones. He might even have succeeded; it was impossible to tell. It took some coaxing to find their names, Tris and Vi, and even more to get them to trust me enough to come with us. Neither had been trained with their magic, and neither knew the fate of their parents. But the steward knew. I would not let them return to their old homes to find their parents gone and no welcome for them, so I took them in.
Josef improved, and deteriorated. Ever since absorbing so much magic he has his good and his bad days. Some days he is lucid and can remember everything with such detail it is as though he is living it again in the moment. Other days he cannot remember his own name or how he got where he is. Some days he cannot even look after himself. Those are the hardest days, for him even more tha
n me. It is more than a case of his mind though, the magic acts upon his body in ways beyond strange. I have found him made of stone before, his skin all over like rock, and he is unable to even more. The next day, his skin has returned to normal and it is like it never happened. Some days he awakes to find himself an old man, ancient beyond anything natural age could do to a person, and then other days he is a child again. Josef exists within a state of constant flux, of both his physical body and his mind, and there is nothing I can do to help him other than be there when he needs me.
I have sent messages to Ro'shan, requests for aid from the Rand for Josef. No response ever comes, and I do not think Mezula would allow me to leave if I went there in person. I admit freely that I hate both the Rand and Djinn, for their idiotic war and making me a pawn in their games. The feeling is apparently mutual, and I have no doubt both Mezula and Aerolis would jump at the chance to teach me a lesson for my defiance of them both. Then again, it undoubtedly has not escaped their notice that Josef and I are the only ones left who know how to bring the Rand and Djinn back. It's a secret I will happily take to my grave.
