Damien landed beside the unmoving figure and ran a glowing hand the length of his body. No internal damage and no visible wounds. Damien flipped him over. Sure enough it was Dahlmis. If he wasn’t hurt, why wasn’t he awake?
Maybe psychic damage.
“Great. I don’t know how to fix that.” Damien couldn’t heal physical wounds either, but at least he could bind them. “Is there anything you can do?”
I can take you into his mind and try to bring him around.
“Can’t you take care of it yourself? One of us should stay alert. I doubt that slide was the extent of the heretics’ trap.”
I could, but think how he’ll react if a demon enters his mind. Dahlmis has no idea who I am.
“Yeah, I forgot. Okay, Plan B.” Damien sat beside Dahlmis and conjured a hemisphere of soul force around them. “There, that should give us sufficient warning if we’re attacked. What next?”
Close your eyes and relax. I’ll handle the rest.
Chapter Seventy-Three
Damien opened his eyes and found himself in the familiar darkness of Lizzy’s psychic world. She waited for him garbed for battle. Dark armor covered her chest and upper legs and she’d conjured the flaming whip and slender sword. He’d never seen her like this, usually she wore silks at most and often nothing at all. Her armored figure shocked him more than bare skin.
“Are we expecting a fight?”
“Maybe. Hopefully Dahlmis’s mind will recognize us as friends, but if he mistakes our arrival as an attack we may need to defend ourselves.”
Damien’s face twisted. “Will that damage his mind?”
“Better his than yours,” Lizzy said. “When our minds are linked, what happens here can harm your physical form. I’m in little enough danger, but your psyche isn’t accustomed to mental combat. I’ll do my best to protect you, but if the choice is between you and him then it’s no choice at all.”
Damien nodded. Much as he’d like to help the Builder, he wasn’t willing to sacrifice himself or Lizzy to do it. “What’s next?”
She held out her hand and Damien took it. A moment later a glowing, golden door appeared in front of them.
“This is the gate to Dahlmis’s mind. Once we pass through, my power will greatly diminish. Follow my lead and take nothing for granted. The mind can play tricks and even unintentional ones can be dangerous.”
Damien swallowed the lump in his throat. “Got it. Let’s do this.”
They flew to the door and Lizzy reached out and touched it with the tip of her sword. Light flashed and when his vision cleared they were in another world.
Where Lizzy’s psychic realm was dark and empty, Dahlmis’s was filled with dark, narrow tunnels. The only light came from the fire surrounding Lizzy’s whip. Damien started to conjure a glow sphere, but she squeezed his hand in warning.
He flicked a glance Lizzy’s way and raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t use sorcery unless you absolutely must. Conjuring soul force here might be interpreted as an attack.”
“What about your weapons and the flame?”
“These are psychic constructs, similar, but different.” Damien stared uncomprehendingly and Lizzy shook her head. “Just trust me. Using sorcery would be bad.”
“Okay. You’re the guide, where to?”
“We need to find Dahlmis’s consciousness and fix whatever the heretics have done.”
Lizzy closed her eyes and a moment later the tunnel walls shifted and blurred. There was no wind or physical sensation at all, yet he had no doubt they were moving. Eventually the tunnel gave way to an open cavern with a clear crystal pillar glowing in the center.
“What is that?” Damien asked.
Lizzy’s eyes opened. “It’s Dahlmis’s id core. As I feared it’s empty. We’ll need to check, but I suspect the ego and superego core will be empty as well.”
“Could you say that so a simple sorcerer can understand?”
Her bright red lips curved into a smile. “The mind has three parts, each of which dwells in a core. Without those parts in place, the body becomes an empty shell, incapable of anything beyond automatic functions. The heretics have stripped away everything that makes Dahlmis Dahlmis.”
“How, why, and can we fix it?”
“The answer to the first two is I don’t know. As to the third, if we can find the three parts and put them back into their cores, Dahlmis should be fine.”
“Great.” Now that Damien had a definite task he was eager to move on. “How do we find them?”
“The heretics must have them in psychic prisons. Before we get too far ahead of ourselves, let’s make sure the other parts are missing and the central cortex isn’t damaged.”
The walls shifted again and they rushed past two more empty crystal pillars before finally stopping in a round, crystal-studded chamber. At the center of the room a floating sphere hung dull and unmoving.
Lizzy looked all around and finally nodded. “The central cortex appears undamaged.”
“What does this room do?” Damien asked.
“If his mind was working correctly, arcs of energy would be flowing from the crystals in the walls down into the central sphere. The cortex merges and manages the conflicting desires from the three cores. That process literally makes Dahlmis who he is. He—”
Purple energy crackled to life around the central core. Builder runes formed in the air.
“It’s a trap!” Lizzy screamed as purple bands formed around her. “Find the heretics. Hurry!”
“What about—”
She thrust a hand out at him and Damien flew back through tunnels and past crystal columns. He slammed into his body and reeled as if he’d taken a true blow.
His protective dome remained unchanged and Dahlmis still lay corpselike on the stone. But for the first time ever, Lizzy’s hilt felt cold and lifeless. Damien stood and tried to lift her.
The sword felt like it weighed a ton. No power flowed between them. He glared down at Dahlmis’s head. She was stuck in there, but still connected to her physical form. He couldn’t move her away from Dahlmis and he couldn’t save her if he stayed here.
Cursing Builders, dragons, and too-curious professors, Damien rested Lizzy beside Dahlmis. For a moment he considered cracking the Builder’s skull in the hopes that she might flow out and back into the sword, but no, she said to find the heretics and Lizzy knew far more about this psychic business than Damien. He’d follow her instructions and heaven help anyone or anything that got in his way.
Chapter Seventy-Four
Al Elan sat on the stone floor and shivered before sending more energy into his limbs in an attempt to warm them. He’d never been in such a cold, dark place. At least his enhanced vision allowed him to see through the darkness. In his dream body he’d had no sense of the chill filling the empty city. He shifted against the rough wall, trying to find a comfortable position. After the hot sands of the south, the cavern seemed to drain the vitality out of him.
Of course, it might have just been the waiting. Patience had never been one of Al Elan’s virtues. Sitting in the dark with nothing to do and only a sleeping dragon for company bored him to tears. At least no one was hunting or trying to kill him. That was a welcome change of pace.
As it always did, his gaze shifted to the dragon’s gigantic, slumbering form. Damien called the creature Dreamer. Perhaps its power worked the same as Al Elan’s. That would explain why it spent so much time asleep. Was he truly meant to serve such a creature?
He didn’t know, but the idea of finding a new purpose pleased him. Up until a few days ago, his sole concern had been surviving and hoping to reach the kingdom before the Fire King’s army. Once he’d accomplished that, he didn’t know what he was supposed to do.
“Will you tell me what I’m supposed to do when you wake?” Al Elan asked the silent dragon.
He expected and received no answer. Ah well.
A faint, golden light appeared in the distance. Al Elan scrambled to his feet
a moment before Damien landed in the entrance. His sword was missing from its sheath.
“Is all well?” Al Elan asked.
“No. I ran into a trap. Lizzy and Dahlmis, the friend I went to help, are both trapped in some kind of psychic prison. I need to find the heretics and defeat them. Jen said you could leave your body and search like a ghost. Will you help me?”
“Of course. It’s not like I have anything else to do. The heretics, they are the beings that appeared at the chamber entrance before you took off, yes?”
“That’s right. They’re of a race called Builders and are skilled psychics. They’re also master shapers who have a bad habit of using their powers on living creatures. If you find them be careful.”
Al Elan settled back on the floor, using a sack of dried meat as a pillow. It was kind of Damien to warn him, but Al Elan couldn’t be harmed in his spirit form.
“I will do my best to find those you seek. Please watch over my body.”
“Will do. Good luck.”
Al Elan closed his eyes and in seconds his spirit slipped free of his body. Damien stood beside his unmoving body for a moment then moved to the wall. He placed a hand on it and drew out a foot-long cylinder of stone. As Al Elan watched, the stone flowed like mud, becoming needle sharp and smaller in diameter.
Damien dropped the stone at his feet and began the process over again, his jaw clenched and a furious scowl twisting his lips. Al Elan shook his head, glad he wasn’t the one who had drawn Damien’s wrath. Now to find the ones who had.
He flew out of the dragon’s chamber and spun a slow circle. Nothing appeared to guide him. Looked like he’d just have to search everywhere. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d gone hunting for something unseen. If the heretics were here, Al Elan would find them eventually. There was nowhere they could hide from his ghostly form.
Working in a circular pattern, Al Elan checked building after empty building. He hadn’t expected to find anything close to the dragon’s lair but refused to make assumptions. Best to eliminate every possible hiding place.
It was difficult to judge time in his spirit form and he lost track of how many buildings he’d checked dozens ago, but at last he spotted something out of the ordinary, a strange purplish glow rising out of a three-story structure halfway across the city. He hadn’t noticed until he was almost on top of the building. In this darkness, it should have stuck out like a cloud in the clear blue sky.
He shook off the strangeness of it and flew closer. The outside seemed ordinary enough. He ghosted through the first-floor wall. A trio of ugly, black-scaled creatures stood inside the door. They didn’t react when he flew past them and through the ceiling.
The second floor was empty and after a quick look around Al Elan poked his head into the third floor. Seated in a glowing circle was a slimy-skinned humanoid with an eyeless face. It was one of the heretics and it clutched a purple crystal in its four-fingered hands.
One down, now he needed to find the other two.
Al Elan tried to withdraw, but some force held him tight. When he looked back the heretic focused his eyeless gaze on Al Elan.
He flinched. Somehow this creature could see his ghostly form. Worse, it prevented him from leaving.
Al Elan yanked and moved a few feet away. He repeated the process and managed to move beside the wall. Just a little more and he’d be clear of the building.
A glowing sword appeared above the heretic’s head. It rotated until the tip pointed right between Al Elan’s eyes.
He tried to yank again, but the binding tightened.
The sword quivered and shot toward him.
“No!” Al Elan yanked with all his might, finally breaking free a moment before the sword sliced through where his head had been a moment before.
Gasping even though he didn’t breathe in this form, Al Elan put some distance between himself and the building. If the heretics could see him, he’d have to be more cautious. Ever since he first discovered he could leave his body and become a ghost, Al Elan had believed himself invincible in that state. Finding out he wasn’t shook him to the core.
What would have happened if that sword had struck home? He shuddered thinking about it. He’d have to be much more careful approaching the other heretics.
Al Elan glided away from the site of his near psychic decapitation, making a point of memorizing its location relative to the dragon. It would be simple enough to describe its position to Damien, the corners were all marked by curled-up dragon statues.
Sometime later, on the opposite side of the city, he spotted another of the strange purple glows. This one originated in a wide, single-story building that resembled the merchant warehouse Al Elan and his friends occasionally snuck into to steal food.
He wasn’t about to enter this one and risk his neck. He noted its position and flew on. The third one had to be around here somewhere. He was about to move on when Dreamer’s familiar power grabbed him and dragged him back to his body. When he was directly above it the shadowy image of a dragon appeared.
“You are Dreamer?” Al Elan asked.
“Yes, and you are my chosen. I have much to show you before we begin the ritual of investment.”
“I must speak to Damien first. I have information he needs.”
The dragon’s mouth peeled back revealing ten-inch fangs. For a moment Al Elan feared for his life, but the dragon relaxed again. “I owe the mortal a great deal. Speak to him but be quick. Time grows short.”
Al Elan settled into his body and sat up. “I found two of the heretics.”
Damien shot him a look of such intensity he flinched.
“Where?”
Chapter Seventy-Five
Lidia landed in a patch of cedar on the outskirts of the southern army and brushed a stray hair out of her eyes. The spicy perfume from the trees soothed her, for a few seconds anyway. She’d been flying back and forth nonstop for most of the day and her core was nearly drained. A few hours to rest and recover would be wonderful, but she didn’t know where she’d find the time. At least she hadn’t received a message for half an hour, that was something.
She sensed an approaching soul force a moment before Jennifer appeared beside her. The young warlord smiled, bright-eyed and eager. Better yet she had a ham sandwich in one hand and a water-skin in the other. Lidia grimaced and wished for a little warlord stamina of her own or maybe just a little youthful energy.
Jennifer bowed and held out the food. “Archmage. Is everything okay? You look tired. Damien says sometimes you forget to eat so when I saw you landing I scrounged up some lunch.”
“Thank you.” Lidia bit into the sandwich and savored the salty, smoky flavor. She washed down the bite with a long swallow of water. “Everything’s fine, remarkably so in fact. Both armies appear intent on behaving, bless them.”
“The fact that they’re surrounded by our warlords and sorcerers probably helps,” Jennifer said. “We haven’t had to chase down a single stray. Talon’s getting bored.”
“Good, the more bored he is the better things are going. Though I suspect what helps the most is that they have a more pressing goal than fighting us.” Lidia blew out a sigh. “I just wish Andrew had stayed in the capital. I don’t think he’s in any real danger, but it’s just one more thing to worry about when I have too many things already.”
“I’m sure Uncle Andy just wanted to see things for himself. He won’t do anything crazy.”
Lidia snorted. “When this is over ask me about his youthful antics. If you knew half the stuff he pulled before taking the throne, you’d be less inclined to trust him.”
“You’re on. I bet Damien would like to hear those stories as well.”
“I’d hate to give your brother any—” Lidia’s gaze darted up. A black figure slowly descended into the little clearing. She hadn’t bothered with the dragon helm, instead letting her long, dark hair swirl in the wind.
The Voice of the Fire King sketched a bow. “I don’t wish to interrupt your meal
, but I hoped we might speak.”
The leader of the invading army shot Jennifer a pointed look. The young warlord didn’t flinch from the power in that gaze. Instead she turned to Lidia and asked, “Archmage?”
“It’s okay, Jennifer. We’ll talk more later.”
Another bow and she was gone.
Lidia turned her attention to the newcomer. “What can I help you with? I trust your escorts haven’t caused any trouble.”
“Not at all. Your soldiers are well trained and professional. Having observed them for the past day, my respect for your nation has risen a great deal. I will be certain to advise my king that conquering this land would be an expensive undertaking.”
The compliment put Lidia immediately on guard. “I’m sure King Andrew will be pleased to hear your generous assessment.”
“Speaking of assessments, have you seen the Ice Queen’s army?”
So it was a hunt for intelligence. No great surprise there. “I have. An imposing array of monsters to be certain.”
“I see.” The Voice tapped her chin. “How many monsters are we talking about?”
Lidia chuckled.
“Does my question amuse you?” the Voice asked in a suddenly hard tone.
“Forgive me. The question itself doesn’t amuse me, but the fact that three hours ago the commander of the Ice Queen’s army asked me almost the exact same thing about your forces does.”
“And your response?”
The veiled threat in those three words made Lidia shiver. “As vague as the answer I gave you. The kingdom wishes to stay neutral in this conflict. We offer neither help nor hindrance to either side. All we want is for you to have your battle as quickly as possible and then for the survivors to leave.”
The Voice offered a thin smile. “Prudent of you, if not terribly helpful. No harm in asking I suppose.”
Dreaming in the Dark: Chains of the Fallen Volume 1 (Soul Force Saga Book 4) Page 26
