Dragon Speaker
Page 32
But a demonic Princess Sebaris had appeared out of nowhere at exactly the right moment to save Keriya and defeat him with strange, toxic magic.
Roxanne didn’t have the words to articulate that.
Silence stretched between the three of them. In the stillness, every sound was amplified and distorted into the movement of a lurking shadowbeast. It was worse than the battle. Roxanne preferred enemies she could see over enemies hiding in the darkness.
Another piercing scream cut through the air. Roxanne didn’t know Sebaris’s voice well, but she could tell from the timbre that it was the Galantrian.
“We have to help,” she said. She wasn’t fond of the princess, but Sebaris had clearly landed herself in a heap of trouble. They couldn’t leave her alone in the demon-infested woods.
Keriya nodded. She rose and looked at Roxanne, who pointed in the exact direction whence the scream had come.
“Stick together,” said Max. “And be careful.”
They ran to the princess’s aid, hurtling across a rocky canyon, past a waterfall, up a muddy hill, through a skein of vines . . .
And into a clearing where stood three monsters.
Keriya, Roxanne, and Max stopped short. They were facing a glade where pools of water sparkled in a carpet of dark moss. Dead, stunted trees spotted the edges of the clearing, their branches contorted as if in pain, their bark worn smooth by the ages. Wisps of ghostly white vegetation hung from them, separating the glade from the forest like a shroud.
Effrax was already there, hidden behind one of the trees. He stared across the clearing at two shadowbeasts, massive animals that vaguely resembled humans in the structure of their faces and arms. They were facing off against Princess Sebaris.
So, Keriya hadn’t been hallucinating. It was her.
Sebaris drew a glittering dagger from her belt and hurled it at the smaller of the two shadowbeasts. The knife struck the creature square in the chest, and the thing disintegrated as it died. Keriya was impressed with the princess’s aim—and the ferocity of her throw.
The remaining shadowbeast howled and charged Sebaris. She stood her ground, flexing her hands as if she intended to rip the animal apart with her bare fingers. The shadowbeast stumbled and fell before it reached her, felled by a well-timed arrow from Effrax. It collapsed and turned to dust.
Effrax stepped into the clearing as Sebaris turned to him. He fitted another arrow to his string, pulled the fletching back to his ear, and loosed. Keriya let out a choked cry of shock as the arrow fly straight and true—clean through Sebaris’s left eye.
For one awful moment the princess stood calmly, glaring at Effrax as if an iron-tipped projectile hadn’t just burrowed itself in her head. Keriya’s blood turned to ice. The Galantrian’s eyes had turned black.
A dark substance, much thicker than blood, oozed from Sebaris’s wounded eye. She lifted a hand and yanked the arrow free, pulling the shiny black orb with it—but another eye glared at them in the socket that should have been empty, a normal ocean-blue eye.
Even as horror tightened its hold around her heart, Keriya found herself wondering what amazing powers were at work here. This was magic beyond imagining, beyond explanation.
With a sickly squelch, more darkness bubbled from Sebaris’s right eye socket. A boiling blob pulled away from her face and hung in the air. Behind the gruesome apparition, her body collapsed.
The ooze coalesced into a floating, ghoulish creature. Its head curved neatly at the nose, but the back of its skull was ill-defined, dissolving into a pulsating spray. Its serpentine body percolated in a way that reminded Keriya of maggots writhing. It glowered at Effrax with one black eye—its left socket was empty, dripping dark ichor.
“Flee while you can, bogspectre,” said Effrax. “If you try to possess any more of us, you’ll lose your other eye, and all your powers with it.”
“The water-witch was begging for trouble, wandering my woods alone.” The bogspectre’s voice, like gravel scraping on rusty metal, was filled with venom. “She was following you—plotting some evil against you, no doubt.”
“Leave this place,” said Effrax, drawing a third arrow from his quiver.
“Not this place. I’ll never leave this place. I took her body to protect what the demons hunted, and their master will be furious when they do not bring it to him. I will be safe from his wrath, but you, pathetic mortals . . .” It let out a sound like flesh being ripped from bones, which might have been a laugh. “When he comes for you, nothing will save your souls!”
Grotesque though it was, Keriya was enraptured by the monster. It was dangerous but intelligent. It knew of Necrovar, and it seemed to hate him.
“Oh? What were you guarding that the shadowbeasts wanted so badly?” Effrax inquired nonchalantly as he fitted the arrow to his bowstring.
The bogspectre ignored him. “I can feel his power,” it babbled. “The Shadow Lord has taken everything from me. By his hand, I have been forced to live alone for ages, misunderstood, feared, hated—a shadow myself, of what I once was.”
Though well-masked by the chilling rasp of its voice, Keriya heard a note of sadness in the bogspectre’s words. She couldn’t help the pang of pity that echoed through her as she stared at the hideous beast.
“Funny.” Effrax’s feet shifted into a defensive stance. “I’d have put good money on you being one of Necrovar’s thralls.”
“Never,” it spat. “He will never have my treasure! I will fight him! I am forced to fight him. I cannot do otherwise . . . I have no choice.”
Those sorry words, that rueful tone—they tugged at Keriya, calling to something deep within her. Her hand fluttered to rest over her chest, for her heart was inexplicably aching.
“He sends his minions to claim what is mine, but he shall not take it,” the bogspectre spat. “It has been mine for a ten-age! You wish to take it from me too, don’t you? You will die before you steal my treasure, and when your bodies are rotting, I will feast on your innards!”
It glided toward Effrax with a baleful hiss. Quick as a flash, he whipped up his bow and pulled the arrow taut.
“No!” Keriya lunged at Effrax, knocking his aim askew as he released the bolt. The weapon whizzed through the air and sank harmlessly into the ground.
Everyone froze, including the bogspectre. One by one, they all turned to stare at Keriya. Effrax opened his mouth in outrage, but it was the monster who spoke first.
“Foolish flesh-rat. It would have been better for all of you if he had killed me. Or tried to. Why save me?”
Keriya was asking herself the same question. She pawed through layers of her psyche, searching for answers she didn’t yet know how to find.
“I’m not sure,” she admitted in barely more than a whisper.
Her answer calmed the bogspectre. Its eye swam with regret, only visible if one knew to look for it. Keriya noted that the orb wasn’t pure black, as were the eyes of the shadowbeasts. There was another color buried underneath a film of darkness.
“I once knew others like you, long ago,” it breathed, scrutinizing her. “What is your name?”
“Keriya Soulstar.”
“Soulstar?” Its face buckled, as if its sludgy skin was trying to form a frown.
“That’s me,” she said weakly, attempting a wobbly smile.
“You are a rheenar,” it said, “but you reek of darkness. Are you allied with Necrovar?”
“No. I’m fighting Necrovar, just like you. I was sent by Shivnath, god and guardian of the Smarlands, to kill him.” The automatic response tumbled from her before she could stop it. It rang false against her ears, but the bogspectre was intrigued.
“I . . . want to give you something,” it said after a pause. It glided toward Sebaris’s body. Keriya thought it might mean to harm the unconscious princess, but it passed her and stopped by one of the pools of water.
The monster drifted toward Keriya. A mad gleam came into its eye and she tensed, but it merely proffered the dripping blade to her. Figuring it would be rude not to do so, she accepted the sword. Muck oozed onto her from the bogspectre’s body and she repressed the urge to gag.
“I believe this is what the demons are after,” it said. “The sword has a secret. Something to do with dragons. I don’t remember the power of it—or perhaps I never knew—but I know that if there is one who should have it, it is you.”
Keriya swallowed. Her throat had gone dry and her brain had stalled. “Why?” she asked at last.
“Because you have to fight Necrovar. And this will help.”
“Thank you,” said Keriya, too softly for any but the bogspectre to hear.
“Do not let it fall into the wrong hands, Keriya Soulstar. It was a gift given to me long ago, and I give it to you—not out of any love I have for your race, but in the hope that you may eventually save all races from the Shadow. And,” it added as an afterthought, “to thank you for saving my life.”
Then, without so much as a whisper, the bogspectre swirled and vanished.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
“The heart understands the things we do not.”
~ Keandre Anstellae, Eleventh Age
Night fell as the group made camp on the outskirts of the bogspectre’s clearing. They huddled in silence around Effrax’s fire. Keriya fidgeted, knowing that sooner or later they’d have to discuss what had happened. When she could no longer stand the mounting tension, she took the initiative to speak.
“I know I owe everyone an explanation—”
“Do you have any idea what the bogspectre is capable of?” Effrax interrupted. “Obviously not, otherwise you’d never have saved it. It’s pure evil. It inhabits your body and suppresses your soul. It controls your every movement. It feeds off you, draining your magic until your source is completely used up.”
“You die?” said Keriya.
Effrax let out an uncharacteristically bitter laugh. “You don’t die. Your magic dies. You’re worse than dead—you are nothing.”
She flushed. Of course having no magic would seem like a fate worse than death to a wielder.
“After that, your body starts to decay. You watch yourself rot, feel yourself fester, but you can’t do a bloody thing. Then you die.” Effrax fixed her with a calculating glare. “The only reason you saved the bogspectre was to spite me, because you don’t want to find Thorion. You don’t want to keep your end of the bargain.”
“That isn’t true!”
“Please, indulge us: why did you do it?”
“I . . .” Felt sorry for the bogspectre? She didn’t think that answer would go over well. “I figured it wasn’t evil, since it was against Necrovar. So I saved it. What’s the big deal? Nothing bad came of it, we’re fine.”
“Not all of us.” Effrax nodded toward Sebaris. She hadn’t woken from her comatose state since the bogspectre had vacated her body.
“She needs a healer,” said Max. “We should head for Irongarde. It’s closer than the palace.”
“Can you find your way?” asked Effrax.
“We’ll head west until we reach the main footpath. Signs mark the way from there. It should be simple.”
Effrax shrugged. He waved a hand over the fire without another word, extinguishing it. The night surged in to surround them.
“I guess I’ll take first watch,” said Max.
Under the cover of darkness, Roxanne scooted closer to Keriya across the mossy ground. “For what it’s worth,” she mumbled, “I think you did the right thing.”
Keriya blinked. “Really?”
“Yeah. You stood up for what you believed. I admire that. You know, I didn’t want to kill the shadowbeasts. They weren’t our real enemies—Doru was forcing them to fight.”
“More casualties of the war,” said Keriya, thinking of the tiny body in the Galantrian Village and the way shadowbeasts exploded when they died.
Roxanne nodded. “I didn’t try to save them, but . . . I wish I’d done better by them.”
“You let one of them go,” said Keriya. Unsure how her words would be received, she added, “I think you did the best you could. It was more than anyone else would have done.”
Roxanne considered this and smiled. She gave Keriya a bracing pat on the shoulder before standing to take her leave.
“Oh, and . . .” Roxanne hesitated. “I’m sorry.”
Keriya’s eyebrows shot up. “For what?”
“If I ever called you a cripple, or if I called you Nameless, or if I treated you poorly because of—well, because of my own ignorance.”
“It’s not your fault.” Keriya wasn’t sure what had prompted this, and she was unprepared to handle it. She dropped her gaze and picked at a fraying thread on her sleeve. “Everyone used those words.”
“The Aerians used those words as slurs,” said Roxanne, “so I’m not going to use them anymore. Besides, it’s not who you are. Their words don’t define you.” She gave Keriya a nod of finality and left to shelter under the fronds of a fern.
Keriya stared after her in bemusement. The whole world, it seemed, had turned upside down.
Sighing, she settled by the warm embers of the fire. She yearned for sleep, but the bogspectre dominated her thoughts. She was plagued by the growing feeling that she hadn’t done the right thing, regardless of what Roxanne believed.
How she wished Fletcher were with her. She would have given anything to talk to him. This was his area of expertise. He was the good one, the person who always did the ethical thing no matter how painful, the moral compass.
She needed a compass now more than ever. These days, she was feeling increasingly lost.
Her hand drifted away from her side to rest on the sword. She’d wrapped it in her cloak, partly because it was filthy, partly to shield it from Effrax’s disapproval. He wanted her to get rid of it, but she’d overridden his protests. On the off chance the shadowbeasts were hunting for it, she needed to guard it.
However, it was a very off chance indeed. There was nothing special about the weapon as far as Keriya could tell, except that it might win first prize for the dirtiest piece of junk in Allentria. What could Necrovar possibly want with it?
Max’s turn at watch ended and Effrax took over. Keriya remained motionless while they traded places. Eventually, the sound of snoring reached her ears. Lifting her head, she saw Effrax slumped against a boulder, out cold.
Keriya couldn’t bear to be still anymore. She stood, taking care not to disturb Roxanne, who was closest to her. On a whim, she grabbed the sword before creeping out of the camp.
She unwrapped her cloak as she walked, revealing the weapon. The sheath hung from a belt with an archaic buckle. She fitted the belt around her hips and, just for fun, grasped the sword’s handle to pull it from the scabbard. It was so encrusted with grime that it took her several attempts before she freed the blade. It came loose, crumbling the dried build-up of muck around the hilt and showering the front of her dress with filth.
“Gross,” she muttered, though she hefted the sword and gave it a few practice swings. It was too heavy for her, and far too big. The blade alone was more than half her height.
“What’s your secret, sword?” she asked, stabbing at an invisible enemy. “Why is Necrovar looking for you? If that’s even true.”
“Truth it is, dragon-child.”
Keriya spun with a c
ry. There, hovering behind her, was the bogspectre. It tilted its head, pinning her with its one eye.
“Are you afraid?”
“No,” she whispered. She wondered if it was there to reclaim its treasure, or if it had some darker purpose. If it meant to kill her, she deserved it—she’d stayed close to the camp to keep a watchful eye on her friends, but even if she raised the alarm now, they were too far away to save her.
“Don’t lie to me, flesh-rat,” it sneered. “You’d be a fool not to be afraid. I’m sure you’ve grown up hearing the stories they tell about me. I’m sure you know what I’m capable of.”
“Actually,” she managed in a tiny voice, “I grew up in Aeria, and I didn’t hear anything. But I’ve met you now, so . . . you know. I get the idea.”
“Yet you saved me.”
“I did.” But I’m not sure I should have.
The bogspectre seemed to sense her unspoken words. “Saving a life is never a mistake,” it told her.
Keriya wasn’t sure about that anymore. What if one day she decided she wanted to save Necrovar’s life?
“When we are saved,” it continued, though she was wrapped in her misgivings and only half paying attention, “it will not be by a warrior or a wielder, or by someone who has done what thousands of people before her have done. We will be saved by someone who can look into the eyes of her enemy and see herself.”
“I don’t want to see myself in someone evil,” she retorted. “No offense.”
“Perhaps it isn’t so much seeing yourself in someone evil,” it mused. “Perhaps it is seeing someone evil and realizing he isn’t evil at all.”
Though it had a point, Keriya was certain no self-respecting hero would have spared the soul-sucking bogspectre.
But she understood now that she was not a hero, and she was never going to be one.
The bogspectre advanced and she retreated, stumbling over a root and landing on the damp ground. It oozed through the air until it was only the sword’s length away from her body.