Spirit Sword

by Sam Ford

  The pools were spectacular in their splendor. The smallest one was easily larger than Vyk's entire apartment. They ranged in temperature from icy cold to scalding hot, and in color from deep blue to bright pink. Cale avoided the first few baths--he'd swam in enough mountain streams to last a lifetime. But he was quite taken with the warmer baths. The jasmine blue pool was probably the most comfortable, warm to the touch and salty to the taste, but light enough that he could float on it. Cale had once read about islands far to the north with tropical waters and white beaches. He imagined this was what that must be like. The bright pink pool was also salty, with tiny little fish living in it, but so hot Cale could barely stay in. Sword might even have found that one uncomfortable.

  His favorite, however, was a very small pool with pale blue waters. When he swam in it, a trail of glow root kicked up in his wake, making the waters shimmer bright blue. Cale thoroughly enjoyed swimming in that one, even if it was a touch chilly. It was just fun to watch the bubbles glow as they popped along the surface.

  "What's that?" Cale pointed to a place in the dividing wall. A hole perhaps a foot square, covered with black paper, right at the water's edge.

  Oh. That is called a Lovers Hole. It is so men and women may share a bath together while preserving their dignity.

  "So if I move this screen aside, the girls on the other side can hear me?"

  Yes, that is the point of--Cale, what are you doing?

  "Jazreal! Hey, Jazreal!" Cale hollered through the hole. It was just large enough to fit a face through. "Jazreal!"

  "What?!" The answer yelled back over the half wall.

  "Hey, come here!"

  The black screen on the women's side jerked aside, and there was Jazreal. She looked pretty with the water glistening off her, even if he could only see her face and shoulders. "What is this?"

  "It's called a Lovers Hole. It's so we can talk back and forth. Isn't it neat?" Cale grinned.

  "Yes, very. Where's Vyk?"

  "He said he went for a haircut."

  "Good. I want to talk to you about--"

  "Did you see they have food vendors? Are there some over there? We have some on this side."

  "Yes, but I have no money. I need tell you--"

  "Here, have these. I was saving them for you." Cale passed her the remaining copper pieces, a pickled quail's egg, and some roasted almonds. He also handed her almost all the wine.

  "It's good." Jazreal ate an almond. "Listen, about--"

  "Do you have a fish bath on your side? We have one over here with little fishes that nibble at you. They tickle when you swim in it. You should try--"

  "Cale, we need to talk about Vyk!" Jazreal yelled.

  "Talk about Vyk what?" A melodic voice asked.

  Cale turned around. There was a young man standing before him--tall, broad shouldered, clean-shaven, and only thigh deep in the water. Jazreal let out an Eep! and turned absolutely scarlet, quickly ducking away from the Lovers Hole. A single hand reached around to retrieve the cup of wine, replacing it only a moment later, completely empty.

  Cale took a closer look at the young man. He certainly sounded like Vyk, but he was far too young, with no beard and a Ranger corps tattoo on his shoulder. His hair was cut short and not greasy at all. More than a few scars covered his muscled body, some from fire, some from steel, with a very nasty one over his left eye.

  "Excuse me, sir. Are you Vyk Draco's son?"

  "What?" he looked confused. "Cale, it is me. I'm Vyk."

  "Whaaat?" Cale covered his mouth. "But you're so young!"

  "How old did you think I was?"

  "I don't know. Thirty? Forty?"

  "What?! Kid, I'm twenty-one!"

  "What?!"

  The two stared at each other for a moment then burst out laughing. Cale laughed nervously, and even Sword got a chuckle out of it. Vyk must have thought it was hilarious, because he laughed so hard it made Cale even more nervous. Vyk simply slapped him on the back and sat down in the water. Cale rubbed his stinging back with a scowl.

  "Why didn't you tell me he wasn't an old man?" Cale whispered.

  You are both young to me.

  "I said I was going for a shave, didn't I?" Vyk relaxed in the pool.

  "Yeah, but I didn't expect you to come back with a new face."

  "Oh, trust me," Vyk rubbed his smooth chin. "It's the same old face, same old problems."

  "Does your eye work at all?" Cale stared up at his face.

  Cale, have a little tact.

  "A bit. I can see shapes and shadows, a bit of color. I can generally tell when someone is standing right in front of me. But the light hurts." Vyk put his eye patch back on.

  "How did it happen?"

  "None of your business, lad."

  See? Tact.

  Cale went back to swimming, watching the water glow. The pool certainly was comfortable. On his return lap he bumped into Vyk, who jumped with a start.

  "Kid, I never thought I'd say this in here, but you had better be poking me with what I hope you're poking me with."

  "It's Sword!" Cale recovered quickly.

  "That wasn't the right answer." Vyk pinched the bridge of his nose. "Goddess almighty, lad. Have you lost your ever-loving mind?"

  "Why? What's wrong?"

  "You brought a sword into a bathhouse!" Vyk whisper-shouted. "A sword which, might I remind you, is illegal in the city in the first place. And now you're traipsing it around the bath like a proud peacock! I have half a mind to tan your hide right here, if I didn't want to draw attention to us. What could possibly compel you to bring a sword to a bath?"

  "Well, in case we are attacked." Cale looked crestfallen.

  "And who, pray tell, is going to attack us here?"

  Just then the entire bathhouse shook, as if hit with a projectile. Marble statues fell to the ground and shattered. Plaster and pieces of facade splashed into the bath. One of the pipes bust, spewing a fine mist everywhere. The men yelled and the women screamed, unable to identify what had just happened. Then silence fell as everyone listened to the panting and scratching. Chunks of the marble ceiling cracked and fell away. A hole appeared, not much larger than a Lovers Hole. And like some kind of twisted version of the custom, a face appeared--an elongated face with a muzzle full of needle-like teeth. Dark and twisted, smoke poured from the hole as infernal acidic drool plopped onto the tile far below.

  Well, does that answer your question?

  Chapter XXV

  Cale?

  "Yeah, I see it. I mean, how could you miss something like that?" Cale stared up at the creature digging through the ceiling. "What even is that thing?"

  "That, lad, is a Phantom."

  A Demon.

  The air around Cale became charged and everything took on a grayish tinge. The world lost its color, while his skin broke out in goose pimples. Cale's limbs felt lighter, faster. Much faster. His chest felt hot, the air singeing his lungs. He could see and hear with clarity unknown to him before. Everything slowed down, taking on an otherworldly quality.

  "What is this?" Cale looked at his hands. Everything felt so weird, as if he were connected to the whole world all at once.

  Combat mode.

  "This feels... strange. Is this how you feel all the time?"

  Cale. Focus.

  Another strip of marble fell from the sky, shattering on the floor below. People screamed and shouted, running for the exits. Some quickly got dressed, others only retrieved their valuables. Others still ran into the streets completely naked.

  "Jazreal?" Cale called.

  "Yes?" She was peeking through the Lovers Hole again.

  "Do you have your Sword with you?"

  "Cale, this is a bath!"

  "Yeah, well," Cale drew Sword from his scabbard. "Bath time is over."

  Sword was practically bristling with rage. Cale had never seen him like this, not even when fighting the Rangers. Every surface crackled with electricity. Sword felt so light in Cale's hands, like no alloy in th
e world should. He was vibrating, humming with anticipation and power. Glowing bright copper, the illumination was obviously noticeable to everyone around him. People stared and gawked, questioning why this naked boy held a glowing saber in his hand.

  The Demons noticed too, homing in like a moth to the flame. If they were angry before, they were enraged now. Struggling and squirming, one of the Demons got its shoulders and both arms through the little opening. A second, larger one appeared at the portcullis.

  Cale leapt from the bath, running for the apodyterium and exit with Vyk following closely behind. A quick towel wrapped around his waist and tucked into the sword belt was all he had time for. A splash in the frigidarium told him one of the Demons had entered the pool.

  Cale turned as the Demon leapt, all claws and teeth flashing.

  Cale swung but missed. Or rather, Sword passed right through the Demon.

  He stared in confusion as the creature landed on the wall and turned to smile at him. It had three claws on each foot and back legs like a cat, with a barbed, whip-like tail and spines running down its back. Its snout was like a dog's, dribbling inky drool down the wall.

  "Oh, you're a young one. We like you." Its voice was a horrible, coughing thing, like the shattering of glass or the drowning of a baby. The sound was the antithesis of the warmth Sword spoke to Cale with, stripped of all the kindness and strength. A hollow and cold voice.

  It was a nightmare given flesh.

  Cale stared into those eyes, those recessed pits of smoldering embers, and he remembered. He recalled the night his family died, the night Tully was murdered, and the monster that destroyed his world. Those same eyes stared back at him now, and he understood. He understood everything Sword was trying to tell him. The world was so much bigger than he’d imagined, so much larger. Cale was so insignificant in the face of monsters. And yet, Sword was wrong in one respect--it was now remarkably, exceptionally personal. Cale saw Tully dying alone on that beach once more and his blood turned to fire. Rage filled his heart.

  No Cale. Not fight. Run. Run away, very fast.

  The creature lunged again and Cale fell to his side. He didn't feel the claws rake across his chest, nor did he see the blood. But he certainly felt the burning. The cuts seared like fire, leaving black scars trailing up his veins. Cale gripped his chest in pain.

  Run, Cale! Run!

  "Come on, kid!" Vyk hauled him to his feet. Cale admired him for not leaving him behind. He’d managed to get on trousers and boots. Cale hoped someday he could get dressed that fast, as well.

  "How do I keep missing?" grunted Cale, rushing outside the bathhouse. The pain was lingering, but his adrenaline was stronger.

  You do not. They can go incorporeal, and the whole world passes right through them. They fear the bite of a Sword above all else, because that means they are Cursed, damned for all eternity. They will seek to break me that I may cease to be. But in turn, that means they must come back to this plane to strike. That is their weakness.

  Almost all the patrons had evacuated at this point, leaving Cale and Vyk standing on the steps, staring up. Jazreal was the last one out the door, wearing her underclothes and boots.

  "Sorry. It took me forever to figure out how to put these on." Jazreal daintily raced down the steps to join the boys.

  "S'okay."

  "Yeah, it's fine."

  "Hey, what's going on over here?" The city guard had arrived, half a dozen men armed with poleaxes and golden spears.

  "Um... birthday party?" Vyk offered.

  The guards were not impressed, but the trio did not really care. Mad cackling filled the air, turning one of the guards as white as linen. Another relieved himself on the spot. They all watched, wondering what would happen next. They didn't have long to wait. One of the Demons came over the domed roof, crawling down the side headfirst, mocking gravity. A second tried to circle behind, roaring like a lion. It even had the semblance of a big, bushy mane. The last one inside walked out through the exit, taking the form of a man. It grinned, its mouth inhumanly large and full of teeth.

  "I, uh, I am going to go get my Sword." Jazreal backed away.

  "Good idea." Cale assumed a combat stance. "Vyk, go with her."

  "And leave you alone against that?!" Vyk gesticulated wildly.

  "I can handle myself, Cale. You know this." smiled Jazreal.

  "I know. But I don't want you getting hurt." Cale looked at them both. "Either of you."

  Jazreal stared at Vyk, obviously not happy being stuck with him. "We will be right back."

  "Oh, yeah. I'm not saying leave and don't return. Please do come back. I am going to need all the help I can get."

  Jazreal and Vyk muscled their way through the guards, heading back for the apartment. At least they were safe, for now. Cale knew the guards would be no help whatsoever. Turning back to the Demons, he suddenly realized how alone he truly was.

  "Oh, did your friends run off and leave you, little Knight? Do you want to cry? Maybe run home to your mommy?" The Demons approached.

  "You're all alone. Give us the Sword and we will let you go free."

  "We promisssssse."

  They were circling around him now, almost close enough to touch, but smart enough to stay out of swinging range. Cale puckered his nose at the stench. They smelled of sulphur and rotting flesh, as if every sinful thing he had ever done was laid bare in the noonday sun and left to fester. One of the guards behind him retched. Two more fled.

  "Leave," one of the Demons hissed. The guards didn't need to be told twice. Cale watched them run.

  One of the Demons offered a jagged, toothy grin. "Humans. So useless."

  "Oh, humans have some uses. The Rangers were right to send us the boy."

  "They are quite tasty, too!"

  Cale's combat stance still needed work. His high guard was sloppy and his swordplay barely passable. None of that mattered, as it all fled from his mind. This wasn't practice--it was real life and death. The three Demons circled closer. These things were going to kill him, Sword, and probably everyone else in the city simply because they felt like it. He could not outfight them. They were too strong and there were too many.

  So that meant he needed to outsmart them. It was the shell game all over again, he realized. Except this time, he was the ball. The pusher cheats, he smiled.

  He felt Sword smile at him as well. Apparently they were becoming more attune with one another, after all. A Demon's strength is also its weakness, Cale remembered. That was his way out. They thought him young and inexperienced, and maybe they were right. But that was his strength to play. They were used to fighting highly trained Knights millennia ago. So why act like them? He let his combat stance slip, just a little.

  One of the smaller ones took the bait. He lunged and Cale swung, forcing the Demon to become shadow and wind. Cale didn't wait for a second opening and barreled on past. The Demon felt cold as he passed through, sickly and sour. It was not a feeling Cale was keen to experience again.

  Well done, Cale!

  Cale was quite pleased with himself. "Now what?"

  Take a right.

  A young, naked boy ran barefoot through the capital of Uruk, wearing nothing but a towel and bandying a red sword. Dodging around merchant shipments and slipping under wagons, he ran as fast as he could, as if death itself was at his heels.

  It was.

  The three demons gave chase, racing four-legged through the streets. Wagons and carts exploded into splinters of wood, and any poor man unlucky enough to stand in the path of the stampede found himself crushed or eaten.

  One of the Demons took to running along the sides of the buildings, trying to outpace Cale. Busy dodging people and horses, Cale did not notice until a shipment of fresh fish ruptured ahead of him. The bolt of black lightning shot with imprecise but arcane power sent deadly splinters into the air. The Demon let out a jackal-like laugh and continued the chase.

  Cale ran until he literally had nowhere else to go. The town ended at
the docks and it was a sudden, abrupt end to the earth. There was a small beach to the right, illuminated by the gray sky, so Cale chose to run there. Still, it wasn't a lot of extra room.

  "Uh, Sword?"

  Keep going.

  "We're kind of running out of room here, buddy." Cale stood in the wet sand.

  Trust me.

  "There's nowhere to go, Sword!"

  Cale, trust me.

  The smaller Demons circled around, knocking Cale to the muck of the ground and trying to bite him.

  Cale took a few swings, just enough to make them back off. They kept coming too close, nipping at him, but every time he went in for a killing stroke, they would vanish, only to appear behind him. He could see them better now. No longer in blacks and grays, the world appeared in washed-out color.

  What are you doing? Curse them already!

  "I'm trying! But every time I swing, they just vanish. They're nothing but mud and fangs!"

  Into the water. Go!

  "Seriously?"

  "Oh, now surely you can't ask him to do that," one of the Demons cackled, walking slowly from the mist like a nightmare. It stood on two legs, tail swishing behind it. It may have acted like a dapper gentleman but looked like a tormented horror of the underworld. The light gray sky and heavy fog gave its pebbled skin an amber blue, tar-like sheen.

  You stay out of this, Malicent!

  "Come now, old friend, let us be reasonable." Malicent spread his hands. "Give yourself up and we will let the boy live."

  "Wait. They can hear you?" an astonished Cale looked at Sword.

  "Of course we can hear him, boy. Did Sword tell you nothing of us?"

  "He told me enough." Cale backed into the surf. It was up to his thighs. "He told me you betrayed your own kind."

  "Tsk! Such an oversimplification. You weren't there, boy. You didn't see the world for what it could have been. What we could have made it, together. What it can still be."

  "Sword said it was a paradise." The water was above Cale's waist now.