Falls

by Melinda Kucsera

  “You and me both. And yes, I think that was a snake.”

  “There’s another one!” Inari pointed then spun in a tight circle staring at dozens of snakes all slithering lightning-quick toward the writhing shape near the menhirs.

  “What the hell’s happening? Snakes don’t travel in packs.” Ranispara bumped into Inari as she jumped out of the way of an oncoming snake. The vile creatures headed toward their goal with frightening concentration neither seeing nor reacting to anything else. Nor did they shift their track to avoid obstacles.

  “Get out of the way,” Ranispara shouted at a group on a collision course. But those snakes just kept coming in waves.

  The mixed group of women and men were so focused on their conversation and picnic plans, they didn’t hear her warning. Screams shredded the idyllic afternoon as the group saw the danger bearing down on them too late.

  Inari crouched by one woman but shook her head at the blood running down her companion’s leg. “No bite marks, it’s just a scratch. You’ll be okay, just watch where you’re going next time,” she said to the white-faced teen. As she tied a bandage around his wound, the summons faded.

  “You’re very lucky. Shayari has its share of poisonous snakes. I wonder why they didn’t bite. Snakes aren’t known for their restraint. No animal is when it has a numerical advantage.” Ranispara rose from her crouch and dusted herself off.

  “I’m glad they didn’t bite,” said a beautiful girl with bluish undertones to her black skin. It gave her an ethereal look enhanced by her filmy powder blue sundress.

  “Well, this is Shayari.” Inari accepted her proffered hand and let the girl—young woman—pull her up. She didn’t bat an eye at Inari’s gypsy togs, which was as much as a surprise as her strength. Too bad she was twice Nerule’s age. He’d need a woman with a good head on her shoulders. Though maybe she had a younger sister. Inari resolved to find out.

  “Oh, please don’t start that now.” Ranispara shot her an annoyed glare.

  “Start what? There’s an enchanted forest beyond those standing stones. Weird is the norm and you know it.”

  “It’s the norm out there in the forest not in here.” Ranispara gestured to the meadow where nothing magical except a certain Indentured mage ever trod.

  Inari let it go. It was an old argument anyway, and she was tired of rehashing it.

  A man darted out of the forest and screamed bloody murder. Inari covered her ears, gave the girl who’d helped her up a smile of thanks then raced off after her friend.

  Ranispara outpaced her easily, but then her lean friend spent every day running around the enchanted forest. So the less than a mile run meant nothing to her and her easy stride ate up the distance. And she’s not wearing a dress. Inari hiked her full skirts up higher but managing all that extra fabric slowed her progress.

  She still felt something tugging her back to the mountain, but without the summons, it had no teeth. So she ignored it and ran on, hoping it was just a shared delusion, not a real threat bearing down on the mountain where she lived.

  A gray-eyed rat leaped onto his desk and pinned Jerlo with its mesmeric stare.

  “Rat Woman? Is that you?”

  From its—her? —clenched teeth, a silver chain dangled. It dipped its muzzle releasing the chain then stepped back revealing a crucifix. The rat fixed its peculiar eyes on Jerlo again, and they silvered, becoming twin mirrors reflecting a haggard man of middle forties.

  With shaking hands, Jerlo picked up the cross and watched the play of lumir light on his Lord. “I thought I’d lost you. I should have known better.” Jerlo shook his head and regarded the rat. “I guess our jaunt below ground wasn’t the nightmare I’d hoped it was.”

  As the rat shook its head, a horde scaled his desk to join with it and generate a woman in a pale shift and a rat-skin cloak. She crouched on the edge of his desk with a feline grace. Her face was more defined, more human than it had been two weeks ago when he’d last seen her.

  “Why have you come?”

  “To return your property. It took some time to find else I’d have brought it sooner.” Rat Woman shifted so she sat on the edge of his desk.

  “You have my thanks for that.” Jerlo clasped the chain around his neck and put his Savior back where he belonged, at the heart of things.

  “I haven’t seen the one you lost.”

  She meant Hadrovel, of course. Two weeks ago, a strange series of events had transpired culminating in the liberation of that fiend and the vanquishing of another demon. Not a day went by when Jerlo didn’t reflect on those events and wonder how much had taken place inside his head versus outside it.

  Parts of that adventure through the lowest tunnels Mount Eredren possessed were lost to the ever-present darkness in his mind. It was born from a two decades’ old amnesia so entrenched in his psyche, it had become an impenetrable wall. One that had not shifted its bounds since he’d woken up in the Sisters of Charity’s care until two weeks ago. Something about his trip through the Lower Quarters had caused that black cancer of his mind to spread.

  “Insect Man and I have been looking for him. I wanted you to know that.” Rat Woman twisted a fold of her cloak in her hands. Her quiet speech silenced the questions caroming around Jerlo’s mind.

  “There’s no other reason for your sudden visit? Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for the return of my cross, but you didn’t need to manifest for that. What are you not telling me?” Jerlo studied the construct of a vanquished demon. Was she as independent as she claimed? Or had that too been a ruse to gain his trust?

  “Nothing,” she said a trifle too hastily as she hopped off his desk. Something flashed in her silver eyes. Was it loneliness? Who else knew of her existence besides him?

  The blackness in his mind belted out the most unlikely person imaginable—Sarn. And he had a hazy recollection of following Rat Woman to the Kid’s cave then everything faded into a light so bright, it made his head hurt until he banished the memory. A cross lay emblazoned on his mind. Jerlo rubbed his aching forehead and momentarily lost sight of her.

  “What happened after we reached Sarn’s cave? I know we defeated the demon, but I can only remember bits and pieces.”

  The pieta, crawling toward water—he must reach it and baptize himself in its cold, clear water. Red lumir shattered like glass. Its shards scorched his feet. Heavy gloves covered his hands as Jerlo parried with a molten blade glowing white-hot from the forge. Lord Joranth's cloak flapped in the wind as he raised a hammer over Hadrovel’s bloody body. Sarn lay unconscious, his back a bloody ruin in the dungeon. Nulthir’s pallid face as the captain of the Guards uttered that damning truth, ‘the unkillable man.’

  “Yes, he’s loose in Mount Eredren,” Jerlo came back to himself with that fell pronouncement on his lips.

  Rat Woman was gone as if she’d never been. Not a trace of her visit remained. Had he imagined her? Something warmed around his neck. Jerlo fingered the hot spot and closed his hand around a crucifix—the one he’d lost in the oubliette. She’d been there. And the things he was forgetting had something to do with Sarn. No big surprise there. That kid dragged trouble around in his wake.

  When I get my hands on you, Kid, you’ll reveal everything you’ve been hiding from me.

  Jerlo picked up his pen then glared at the closed door to his office when he heard a voice in the antechamber. The door muffled the man’s words all except for one— 'sinner.’

  Just pass by, friend, you won't find any sinners here.

  Jerlo shook his head and reread the letter he’d drafted right before Rat Woman’s unconventional arrival. That voice dropped to an ignorable murmur as he composed a postscript.

  Sinner, heh, as if I’d ever sin against you, Lord, not bloody likely. You hold my heart and my highest esteem. And for you, my Lord and my Savior, I won't throttle the Kid the next time I see him. But I will ask some probing questions, and Sarn had better have the answers.

  Many Crossings

  Whe
n Sarn stepped between those stones, Ran followed before Saveen could stop him. Shrugging, Saveen stepped through as well, but he didn’t make it past that sparkling threshold. Invisible hands grabbed him and peeled his glamour like skin from an apple. He screamed, but no sound emerged. The link between him and Mama darkened and began to fray.

  No! Saveen backpedaled, moving through air as thick as sludge. Fear lent him strength. Every breath was shorter than the last, and he fought for each one. His chest felt like it would cave in. One step, two—then he was free and gulping down air, his link with Mama restored, but Sarn was still frozen between those two rings of stones.

  Ran huddled against the backs of his legs, gripping fistfuls of his father’s cloak. Light sheathed his trembling body as a green ray passed over Sarn. It couldn’t reach Ran thanks to Sarn’s magic and Saveen blew out a relieved breath until he felt eyes upon him. Someone had witnessed his failed attempt to cross and glimpsed what he was.

  Saveen met the concerned eyes of the cross-toting stranger. Revelations danced in his eyes. He knew Saveen wasn’t human. Saveen opened his mouth to ask if he’d keep that a secret, but the words couldn’t pass mama’s magical gag. Nor did they need to.

  The man in white nodded. Saveen’s secret was safe. His shoulders slumped in relief until he realized he couldn’t cross. He couldn’t go with Sarn and his son to see the Queen Tree without risking the secrecy that kept him alive and the link with his Mama. That price was too high.

  A tear rolled down his scaly face. I wanted to see her.

  If you keep hanging out with mages, I’m sure you will, someday, Mama said, but her voice was distant, and it faded in and out of his mind.

  Mama?

  Stay away from the mountain, son. There’s something dark under it, and it’s hunting. Be safe my Heart. Then her mind-voice was gone.

  You too, Mama, he sent hoping she heard him. She must be safe. She was so far from people. But I should check. I only have one mama. And he’d seen how much losing a mother hurt Ran.

  “Tell them I’m sorry,” Saveen mumbled as he pivoted and rushed toward Mount Eredren, though he wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for.

  Sarn stumbled into the ten-foot no man’s land between the two circles of menhirs and slammed into another invisible wall. This one caught him like a giant web. Ran crashed into the backs of his legs and wrapped his arms around them as something scanned Sarn.

  Magic leaped out of his back and wrapped around Ran, shielding him from the scan as it finished its pass. Then the gleaming web parted and Sarn staggered through the second circle of menhirs with Ran at his heels and collapsed. The world spun around him, and it was shot through with colored lights.

  “Papa!” Ran plowed into his side, his green eyes desperate.

  “I told you to run.”

  “Yes, you did, but I go with you, always.” Ran clasped his hand tight and leaned into his leg.

  Sarn shook his head, then regretted it when the world spun faster. “Loyal to a fault and stubborn, just like me.” He touched his son’s face and wiped away a stray tear. Ran turned his face into his unblemished palm and nodded.

  “Are you okay, Papa?”

  “I just need a minute.”

  “Come, sinner, thy time is nigh.”

  The command hammered Sarn and he sat down hard on the leaf-covered ground. Fire licked the inside of his left arm—the Adversary’s taint was spreading. His legs didn’t want to hold him up, and he didn’t blame them. His head felt like it was bursting open. Something was crawling down his face. He touched it and his hand came away bloody. Not another nose bleed.

  “Is Papa okay?” Ran clung to Sarn but addressed his question to J.C., who could only shake his head.

  “Come, sinner, thy time is nigh.” The voice echoed in his bones and they groaned as Sarn tried to rise and do as he was bid.

  No, I must go to her. She called me. But she wasn’t calling anymore. The Queen of All Trees must be in grave danger.

  “Come, sinner, to your dark Father fly. At my side, thy time is nigh,” insisted that voice, drowning out all other sounds.

  No, Sarn tried again to stand but strong hands pushed him down. “Let me up.”

  J.C. knelt beside them, his face a mask of concern. “I think you should sit here a moment.”

  “No, I must go to her, now.”

  “Who are you trying to go to?”

  “The Queen Tree,” Ran popped up between them again and claimed Sarn’s lap.

  “Come, sinner, to your dark Father fly. At my side, thy time is nigh.”

  No, I belong to my son, my brother, my masters—Nolo and Jerlo—and you aren’t them. Get out of my head! Sarn punched the ground. Green lightning snaked across his fist as it plowed a shallow furrow in the earth, showering them with dirt.

  “Papa, what’s wrong?”

  “Who’s calling me? I keep hearing this insistent voice in my head.” Sarn rubbed the bridge of his nose but it didn’t soothe the ache bludgeoning him between the eyes every time he disobeyed that voice.

  “What voice? I don’t hear anything.” Ran glanced around as if the speaker might be standing behind him.

  “He’s worn many names, but most call him just ‘the Adversary.’”

  “Who or what is this ‘Adversary?'” Sarn asked, hoping this time he'd get an answer.

  “Someone your ancestors locked out of your world a long time ago, but part of him is here, causing mischief. Look at me. Let me see what hooks he’s got into you.”

  Sarn shook his head and removed J.C.’s hand from his arm. “Why’d they lock him out? What did he do?”

  “He started the last mage war and almost destroyed your world. I think your bards remember it as the ‘Crystal Wars.’”

  Sarn stared at J.C. in shock.

  “Papa, what's a war?”

  “When a lot of people fight against each other—so many, you can't count them all.”

  That didn't satisfy his son, so he turned his question on J.C.

  “War is a heartbreaking undertaking. It destroys lives, homes, and livelihoods, and leaves people widowed, orphaned, homeless, maimed or unemployed. It's a terrible act and should only be declared if there's no other way. But such distressing talk isn't helping anyone. Let me see what he's done to you. Look at me.”

  Sarn shook his head. “I can’t. Strange things happen when people look me in the eye. I see things and they see them too.”

  Ran frowned. “But I look you in the eye all the time and I don’t see things.”

  “You’re immune because you’re my son.” Sarn tousled his son’s hair, but the boy’s brow remained furrowed.

  “But I have your eyes. Everyone says so. And people look me in the eye all the time, but nothing happens.” Ran gave him a triumphant look.

  “Your eyes don’t glow. I think it has something to do with that.” Sarn looked away, this conversation had taken an uncomfortable turn. “Why don’t you hate or fear me?”

  Though after hearing about the Adversary, the question seemed silly. But he needed to know because J.C.’s reaction was atypical.

  J.C. smiled. “Because my Father taught me to love my neighbor.”

  “Your father sounds like a wise man.”

  “He’s the wisest man I know.” J.C.’s smile flipped to a frown. “Now, let me see.”

  Sarn shook his head and winced as that dark voice invaded his mind again, leaving a compulsion behind, but he fought it. “It’s not my eyes you need to see, but my hand.” Sarn held his marked palm out.

  J.C.’s touch quenched the fire burning in his fingers. “Hmm, this isn’t good.”

  “I know. We’ll get help.”

  “And answers,” Ran reminded him.

  “That too.”

  “Come, sinners, the hour of my power is here. Shadows writhe and shadows weave, chains to bind the ones dear to me. Bring them here, my dark friends, bring all the sinners to their rightful end.”

  “What is that?” Ran pointed at the
shadows accreting under the boughs of the enchanted trees.

  “Trouble, where’s Saveen?” Sarn glanced around as he stood up, but Saveen was gone.

  “He had trouble crossing, so he went back.” J.C. nodded to Mount Eredren. “We should follow his lead.”

  “No, I need to go to her. She can undo this.” Sarn pointed to the black marks on his hand. At J.C.’s quizzical look, Sarn elaborated. “The Queen of All Trees—she called. The last time she did that, something awful happened in the forest, and I had to right it.”

  Sarn regarded the disjointed loops covering his hand. They almost looked like letters. Where there were letters, there were words, and words had power. What power did these loops and swirls give the Adversary over him?

  “But there’s more,” Sarn continued. The words were pouring out of him now. Something about J.C. was yanking them past his usual reticence.

  “Go on.” J.C. nodded, his sharp eyes took in everything Sarn said, and dozens of things he didn't.

  “This morning someone released an ancient monster. I called her, and whatever she did bought us time. But I don’t know what she bought us time for. So, you see, I must go to her. She has all the answers.”

  Or did I miss something? The question pushed Sarn to his feet and spurred him into a run as he reexamined everything he remembered from the last month. As he rushed toward the conglomerating shadows, power uncurled inside him and slid down his right arm sheathing it in green flames. He chopped his glowing arm through those shadows scattering them then swung around at Ran’s call.

  “Wait for me, Papa!” Ran launched himself at Sarn, and he caught the boy mid-air then resumed running for all he was worth because everything might just depend on speed.

  “Come, sinner, thy time is nigh.”

  Sin was a sliding scale. Those off the deep end heard his call first and stopped what they were doing. As one, they turned and shuffled toward the Ægeldar. Through their blank eyes, he watched their loved ones try to stop them.