“You! Stop, now!” A Glass guard called from still some distance. There may not have been many of them around the city, but these came quickly, with the sounds of swords slipping from sheaths.
“They attacked us! They’re trying to steal our goods!” the driver shouted, feigning terror with the acting prowess of any member of the Pompare Troupe.
Whitney tried to argue, but blood forced itself down his throat. Upon looking up, he saw that the man’s eyes had returned to normal, and he was, indeed, beating up an innocent merchant.
“It’s not like that!” Whitney tried to say, but it sounded like nonsense.
“We’ve gotta go,” Lucindur called out, pulling herself free from the other merchant’s grip.
It looked like she’d held her own, using her salfio to defend herself until now they fought over it. He, too, pretended to be but a simple trader, and she ripped the instrument away from him.
Or maybe, they really were no longer possessed? The guards wouldn’t care either way.
Lucindur took Whitney by the hand and bolted.
“What in Elsewhere was that?” Whitney asked.
“They were possessed by demons,” Lucindur replied.
“I figured that much!”
Guards rushed at them from the front now, and Whitney took control and turned them pushing through a band of musicians.
“Follow me,” he said. “Running from guards is my speci-al-ity.”
“Clearly, the rumors of Panping’s fate are true,” Lucindur said, ignoring him. “The feeling in my heart after we left the Citadel didn’t lie. Elsewhere is broken.”
“Great. And we’re her number one targets.” Whitney led them down the stairs and into an alley. He’d zig-zag and confuse the untested guards. In other places, he’d take the sewers, but he didn’t know this city’s infrastructure well.
He went to drag Lucindur around a corner, but she resisted. Her feet slid.
“Lucy!” He glanced back and saw her standing, solemn, clutching her salfio against her chest.
“You’re right. It’s clear now,” she said. “We have to leave them. They won’t be safe with us.”
“Good.” He extended his hand toward her and listened for the guards. If Nesilia already had people around here in her possession, they’d be live bait locked up in a cell.
“C’mon,” he said. “I won’t even say I told you so, but we have to get back to the Reba.”
Lucindur closed her eyes. “I promised you a beautiful world, my daughter,” she said. “I promised you a future of light. Even if I don’t want to go, even if I don’t want to fight the fight the first Lightmancers said we would so long ago, that is how I know that I must. I won’t fail you.”
“You’ll be back here soon,” Whitney said, his feet twitching to run. “I promise.”
“Even if I’m not, Talwyn will know I wished to be.” She strummed a chord on her salfio with her fingernails. Even in all the chaos, the sound was spectacular, vibrating right down to Whitney’s core. “She’ll feel my sound.”
“She sure will,” Whitney said, unsure if he believed it. “Now, let’s go. We have a goddess to kill.”
He took her hand just as the steel armor of a Glass soldier appeared at the mouth of the alley. Then, he did what he did best. Escaped.
VII
The Mystic
Sora heard her name like she had so many times before. Always it was Whitney, beckoning her from the depths. “Sora!”
But where was he?
She could still hear Nesilia’s mad cackle as hands seized her. Sora slapped at them, desperate to be free. Feeling the call of Elsewhere, she tried again and felt the warmth of flames wreathing her hands, but it didn’t matter.
“Sora, stop!”
She clenched her eyes shut. When he shouted again, they snapped open, and she saw Whitney standing next to her, hands firmly on her shoulders. He cowered back, his face aglow with orange light from the blaze burning in her own hands.
“Whit?,” she said, letting the fire die away.
“It’s okay, you’re here now. You’re better. I’ve got you.” Whitney brushed the hair away from her face. “I’ve got you.”
She sat forward, taking in her surroundings. She was still on the Reba, and it swayed as if they were back sailing on the Covenstan Depths.
“What the yig happened?” Whitney asked, still swiping at her hair, and running his hand over her face and neck.
It felt good, him touching her, like all the horrors of the world were cast off, even if only for a moment. Then they all came rushing back like a torrent.
“I don’t know. I don’t know at all.” Her bed was soaked, and so was she. Sweat beaded under her eyes, on her palms. It was so cold despite the perspiration, or perhaps because of it.
She wore only a thin undergarment. Though it wasn’t lewd, she felt it sticking to her and pushed herself off the bed. She accidentally shoved Whitney aside, then strode across the room. “Nesilia…”
“Oh, no. Not again,” Whitney said.
“I’m gettin fed up with that witch,” Tum Tum said, Aquira resting on his broad shoulders. Sora whipped around and realized that he’d been there the whole time. She grabbed her kimono from the plush chair and tossed it on.
“What now?” Whitney asked, taking her by the hand and leading her to sit.
As they walked, the ship lurched.
“Where are we? Are we moving?” Sora asked.
“It’s a long story, but Nesilia knows where we are,” Whitney said.
“What? She… This is my fault…”
“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.”
“Aye!” 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 n
ote 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.”
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