The Keeper's Heritage

by Trenna McMullin

  Chapter 15: The Element of Choice

  The darkness flooding out of the necromancer's body slowed to a trickle, and then disappeared altogether. What remained of him was shriveled—translucent, papery skin sunken in against his bones as though the shadows had taken the place of his other anatomy. Ky'ara shuddered and took a deep, steadying breath. It was over.

  “You can't escape into death if I kill you here,” she whispered, nudging the body with her foot just to be sure. The skin broke, brittle now that nothing supported it, and the bones came apart easily. He really was dead—for good this time.

  Ky'ara suddenly became intensely aware of the hundreds of shades that lurked on the periphery of her vision. She didn't know if they were friendly or not, but she didn't care to wait around and find out.

  She felt for the border of life...it felt solid, unmoving. She hurled herself at it, mentally, and nothing happened. Not promising. Trying not to panic just yet, she closed her eyes and moved herself sideways instead, to the border of the Dreamworld. This time, she felt the difference instantly.

  When she opened her eyes, she stood before a huge, clear wall that shifted and swirled endlessly, like oily water. She put out her hand to push against it...

  “Stop!”

  Ky'ara looked up, and saw Myrnai just on the other side.

  “You didn’t listen to a single thing I told you, did you girl?”

  Ky’ara was too relieved to acknowledge the unfairness of that statement. “How did you know I was here?” she asked instead.

  “I’ve been keeping an eye out for you. After what you did last time I wanted to be sure you kept yourself out of trouble,” Myrnai replied wryly, “Although apparently it didn’t do me any good…how in the name of all that is right did you manage to Walk yourself into Death?”

  “The necromancer attacked us,” Ky’ara explained, glancing behind herself nervously. She wasn’t sure if anything had followed her here, but she had a bad feeling that the longer she stayed in one place, the more vulnerable she was.

  Myrnai’s expression turned serious.

  “So you followed him here.”

  Ky’ara nodded. “It was the only way to kill him. I just kept thinking he slips in and out of our world like…well, like we move around in the Dreamworld. So when he disappeared, I just focused on it…and I could feel the connection between realms, so I slipped through behind him.”

  “You realize how dangerous that was?” Myrnai whispered.

  “Yes. But I was running out of options. I don’t know if his death got rid of the shades or not, but I need to get back. Taren and the others might still be in danger.”

  “If you step through this wall,” Myrnai warned, “there may be no way of getting back to Life. The Dreamworld has a way of shifting itself to eliminate breaches between realms. It would automatically throw you into a completely random time or place and prevent you from ever returning to this spot again.”

  “The necromancer said I’d never get out without a death…but I don’t think someone died every time he slipped in and out, so there has to be another way.”

  Myrnai shook her head. “Necromancers have ways of storing and using the deaths of others long after the event is done. You can do so many things that others can’t, but I think that this time you’ve put yourself in over your head…you somehow slipped in here using his portal before it closed. You cannot return to life the same way.”

  Ky’ara closed her eyes, trying to process this information. Following Ekzhad and getting rid of him once and for all had seemed like her only option at the time...now she wished she had taken a moment to consider the implications.

  “Or maybe you can...” Myrnai tilted her head to the side, eyeing Ky’ara thoughtfully.

  Ky’ara took in her expression and suddenly she knew what Myrnai had in mind.

  * * * * *

  Just before the wall of fire dissipated, Taren noticed Sukylar and Lauryn making their way towards it. The shadow creatures seemed to have lost some of their motivation. Though they still tried to get at the humans, they dropped back more readily when presented with resistance. He hoped that was a good sign.

  Sukylar fended off the last of the creatures between him and the fire, swinging a large tree branch. Lauryn wielded a smaller one, though her arms shook with the effort. Taren soon saw why. Her left shoulder was bloody and already a spiderweb of black spread down her arm and up towards her neck.

  “Lauryn!” Joran suddenly vaulted through the weakly flickering barrier and helped Sukylar push away the shadows, catching the girl as she stumbled into his arms. She dropped the tree branch on the ground and the last few flickers of Taren’s magical flame licked it hungrily. Joran hurriedly lifted Lauryn and stepped over the branch as it began to burn. Sukylar lit his log as well and laid it on the ground diagonally, so that the two branches formed a protective V around them. Taren helped Joran situate Lauryn on the ground while Sukylar guarded their exposed side.

  “Smart,” Taren commended the girl, “starting a regular fire from the remains of my magical one.”

  She smiled wanly and rubbed her arms, shivering despite her close proximity to the fire. “Sukylar’s idea,” she said tersely.

  Taren nodded and stood to help fend off the few creatures who tried to approach them from the open side of their hasty blockade. Their fire would only buy them a little time—it was bound to go out quickly, the branches weren’t all that thick. Their only hope was for Ky’ara to defeat the Necromancer and figure out a way to banish these creatures back where they belonged. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours since they had been awoken by Ky’ara’s shout, yet somehow he felt as though they’d been fighting for days. The minutes since she had disappeared felt like an eternity. How was she supposed to do the impossible and escape Death itself?

  * * * * *

  “Willing sacrifice,” Ky’ara murmured, the necromancer’s term coming back to her.

  “Exactly,” Myrnai agreed softly. She met Ky’ara’s gaze, her expression unreadable. “Fitting, I suppose that this should be my last lesson to you...if there is one overarching thing I have learned in five hundred years, it is this: choice matters. When someone compels you to fight, or to leave, or takes something from you, it gives them power…but when you choose, on your own, to give up something precious…it increases that power a hundredfold and directs it where you want it to go.”

  “I can’t let you—” Ky’ara started to protest, but Myrnai cut her off.

  “Oh, pish. I told you already that I was leaving soon. Without the energy I get from…well, I won’t explain it all, but I told you once that I could choose my time to go…that wasn’t entirely true. I’ve been on a ticking clock since the day I left my village. Twelve moons—that was my limit. This only makes it happen a little earlier.”

  Ky’ara didn’t think that made her feel any better. How could she face Taren again if she had to tell him that Myrnai had died to help her return?

  “I’m not dying, just…giving up my life. Light knows it’s been way too long anyhow.” Myrnai sounded cranky. Ky’ara knew her well enough by now to understand that she was hiding other emotions under her irritation.

  “Now, let’s get this figured out quickly,” Myrnai said briskly, straightening her shoulders and nodding to Ky’ara, “You don’t have much time before something dark is attracted by the necromancer’s demise. Best to get this over with soon.”

  “What do I need to do?”

  “When I tell you to, put your hand out to touch mine—right up against the barrier. I will just need a moment of meditation to cut my connection with life—you should be able to sense it when it happens and use the opening to slip back through.”

  Ky’ara nodded, feeling torn. She couldn’t let Myrnai pay the price for her mistake. Not when she already felt a little guilty for taking Taren. Then a thought occurred to her.

  “You told me that once you chose to leave your body, you would exist only in the Dreamworld and not actua
lly be, well, dead.” Ky’ara said, “But when I follow your path back to Life, won’t I be crossing both barriers?”

  Myrnai nodded, smiling ever so slightly. “I had considered that, yes. There is a possibility, if the times decide to align correctly, that I may be able to use your path to cross into death...And then perhaps I will be able to see my family again and not have to wait for the end of all things to truly rest.”

  Ky’ara found that tears pricked her eyes. She wasn’t sure if they were tears of sorrow or happiness.

  “Oh, don’t get yourself worked up, child.” Myrnai flapped her hand and motioned for the other girl to stand just across from her. “We’d best get this done, before anything happens.”

  Ky’ara nodded, standing as close to the barrier as she could without touching it. She raised her hand so it was level with Myrnai’s and looked across the shifting barrier at the woman who had sacrificed so much to prolong her life for five centuries…who would now sacrifice that immortality to allow the fight against the Destroyer to continue. She hoped Myrnai was able to cross over all the way. If anyone deserved a rest, it was Arys’s sister.

  “Thank you,” Ky’ara whispered.

  Myrnai met her gaze and smiled. Then her expression took on a distant look and she nodded curtly. Ky’ara pressed her hand against the barrier, feeling it shift and start to slide sideways. Then their hands met and Ky’ara felt, more than saw, a light that engulfed everything around her. Using the same instinct that had brought her there, she moved herself to the border of Life and slipped through. She opened her eyes and found herself back in the clearing.

  * * * * *

  Iregh stood frozen in place as a priceless vase shattered just inches from his head. His master was clearly not happy. He didn’t know if he’d ever witnessed an emotional reaction of this magnitude.

  “…stupid, worthless, self-serving, arrogant, overconfident, deceitful idiot!”

  Those icy blue eyes burned with barely controlled rage. They glanced in his direction and slid right over him, dismissive as always. Iregh glanced down at the shards of pottery near his feet and surreptitiously took a step sideways in case another projectile was thrown this way. From what he could gather, Ekzhad had gotten himself killed again...and apparently it was permanent this time. Keerason’s death had gained them nothing.

  Of course, if the necromancer had succeeded in capturing or killing the girl, they probably wouldn’t have been any better off. His master had always had trouble reading Ekzhad’s intentions…or maybe overconfidence had simply led the Dark One to conclude that despite his conniving nature, the necromancer wouldn’t dare disobey an order. Iregh knew differently. There was at least one instance he knew of when the other mage had attempted to recover the crystal for himself, risking the success of their plans for his own personal gain. Iregh didn’t know exactly what the necromancer’s plans had been for the magical talisman, but he suspected it had to do with challenging their master.

  Funny that he was the only one left now. Neither loyal dog nor treacherous snake had survived their partnership with the Destroyer. Yet here he was, obedient in everything but with no illusions as to whom he was dealing with. He felt somewhat vindicated by the realization.

  “Perhaps it would be prudent to let the King know you will not be down to supper tonight?” Iregh advised calmly, hoping to remind his master of their plans for the evening.

  “Get. Out.” The words were hissed from between clenched teeth.

  He nodded, bobbing his head respectfully and turning towards the door. The broken vase crunched under his feet. “Should I send for a maid…?”

  “OUT!”

  The shriek followed him into the hallway, and something heavy thudded against the door just as he pulled it shut. For better or worse, it was just the two of them now. Iregh winced as there was another loud crash, followed by the sound of breaking glass falling to the floor. Definitely worse.

  * * * * *

  Ky’ara surveyed the scene, unsure what to do. Killing Ekzhad seemed to have confused and somewhat pacified the shadow creatures, but it hadn’t done away with them entirely. How was she to send them back where they belonged? Laboriously cutting her way through each one would take too long, and besides that, the lull in their aggression would likely not continue if she tried to fight them.

  “Your master is dead. You serve no purpose here. Go back!” Ky’ara called across the clearing. The Remnants turned towards her almost questioningly. None of them disappeared.

  “This realm is for the living. Return to Death or be destroyed,” she declared, realizing that she actually had no idea whether there was any difference between these two options. The shadow-creatures advanced towards her menacingly and Ky’ara wearily raised her sword. A breath of air whispered past her cheek.

  “I could use a little help here,” Ky’ara murmured to the breeze. In response the wind picked up slightly. The shadows didn’t even flinch. What good was a little wind against creatures of Death?

  Just as the first creature came within range of her blade, a ray of sunshine broke through the clouds, illuminating the ground right in front of her. The Remnant dissolved. The other creatures shrank away from the light and Ky’ara took the opportunity to look up. The clouds that had obscured the sun were moving swiftly across the sky. Apparently a little wind was just what they had needed.

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  The shadows were frantically scrambling for the cover of the trees. They scattered without even a backward glance at the humans. Within minutes, the sky was clear and sunlight streamed down through the forest. Not a single creature remained.

  Ky’ara sheathed her sword with a sigh and hurried over to the others. Taren met her halfway across the clearing and pulled her into an embrace. He kissed her once, hard, as though reassuring himself that she was real.

  “Never do that again,” he said gruffly, holding her close.

  She nodded in agreement, resting her head against his chest and giving herself a moment to think. Any moment now she was going to have to explain what had happened, and she didn’t relish the thought of telling him what Myrnai had done for her.

  “Ky’ara!” Joran called, interrupting her thoughts. The urgency she felt from him brought her instantly to his side. The boy sat next to Lauryn on the ground. She was shivering uncontrollably, her left arm hanging limply to her side.

  “You seem to have made friends with the sylphs,” Lauryn said wryly, giving Ky’ara a strained smile.

  Ignoring the remark, Ky’ara took stock of the injury on the girl’s shoulder.

  “This is going to hurt a little,” she warned Lauryn, crouching next to her and drawing her knife. She cut away what remained of the girl’s shirtsleeve and set Joran to work looking for something to clean the wound. While he was occupied digging through her pack, she nodded to Lauryn and put a hand gently on her shoulder. Using the same method she had used on Sukylar, she pulled the necromantic residue out and incinerated it with carefully controlled bursts of light. Lauryn grimaced in pain, closing her eyes and clenching her jaw.

  The procedure took much less time than it had with Sukylar’s wounds and after a few minutes of work the black webbing disappeared from under Lauryn’s skin. After ensuring that every trace of the darkness was gone, Ky’ara carefully sealed the gashes and washed away the blood and dirt from around the fragile new skin. She then checked the other three for any of the residue and healed a few minor cuts just to be sure there was no way for them to be infected by any lingering shadows. She didn’t know if the necromantic residue could do that with an ordinary wound or not, but she wasn’t going to take any chances.

  By the time all of this had been completed, it was long past noon.

  “What do you think?” Joran asked, “Do we rest up and camp again here and wait till morning to continue? Or do we get as far away from this shades-cursed place and try to finally reach that blasted lake?”

  Taren was already packing up the last of their belon
gings, some of which had been trampled during the fighting.

  “We move on,” he said, “It’s not wise to linger in a place that has had so much contact with Death—particularly after dark.”

  The others nodded, feeling the same aversion to remaining, despite their weariness.

  “Perhaps Lauryn and I should turn back and see to the horses,” Sukylar suggested. “We can check to be sure they were not targeted by the necromancer as well. And we can set up a base camp for you to return to once you have completed whatever it is that needs to be done in Eléirathös.”

  Ky’ara nodded in agreement. “Perhaps Joran should go with you,” she suggested, feeling his apprehension at having Lauryn leave. “That way we can keep in contact.”

  “No.” Taren didn’t even give Joran a chance to reply. “Your Keeper’s place is by your side.”

  “But—” Joran started to protest.

  “I don’t know why you can mindspeak, but it doesn’t mean your link should just be used to make communication with other groups easier,” Taren cut him off, “I thought we covered that in Doraicolé? You stay with us unless there is a compelling reason why Ky’ara would be safer if you were somewhere else.”

  The boy closed his mouth and nodded curtly. Lauryn gave him a quick hug goodbye, which seemed to brighten his mood a little, and then she followed Sukylar out of the clearing.

  “Ready?” Taren asked.

  Ky’ara picked up her pack and nodded wearily. It was time to finish her search.

  Within minutes nothing remained in the clearing but the charred remains of their protective barrier. A curious wind rifled through the coals, scattering ashes across the ground. There was no sign that Death had come and gone.

  Chapter 16: What Was Lost

  Geri sat in the corner of the tavern, listening to the buzz of gossip. All of the rebellion’s contacts in town had been gone. Whether they’d been spooked and left on their own or been taken by the King’s men, he didn’t know. He was fairly certain the latter had been Hal’s fate, at the very least.