by Brindi Quinn
Unbeknownst to me, the gray man has used his words to pull me into a fold of sorts; a pocket within space.
I have been lured.
“Because I’m feeling nice, I’ll tell you one more thing,” says Ark.
I complete my spin, but the gray man is not where he formerly stood. Only his inebriating voice remains.
“Gold is drawn to mythic power. In places where many mythics reside, a faerie looking to feel human might fit right in. If you want to walk as man walks, find a mythic city and hole yourself up in a pocket of Gold. There, you’ll feel whole . . . almost.”
“Nonsense. There is naught that can make me whole but he who slumbers yonder.”
There is no reason for me to admit something so compromising to an enemy, but admit it I do. And regret it instantly I do. If Ark even bothered to hear it, I do not know. The shroud of gray drops and I stand alone, in the center of the sistel-lined street, dizzy and subdued.
“Gwim!” Pedj’s voice is first to find me. Having taken the stone in his mouth, he has claimed the role of my second confidant. He begins a sprint to my side.
“Is she oka?!” Mael is uncommonly anxious.
“Yae, I sense her now!” the Maestro says, giving a grandstanding point. “She’s right there!”
“Shadow!” Mael copies his point at my defining feature.
When I attempt to zoom to where the others gather, my flight is lagging. How I wish Awyer were awake to sweep me into his arms like the last time I was intoxicated! But that is not the case, and it will not happen in the near future; thus, I wait for the rest to come to me.
“Are you all right, Grim?” Approaching, Techton appears less than healthy. The amassing of Void accompanying Ark’s presence placed a toll on him. His thirst goes unquenched.
“I am as well as I can be. Focus your attention and repeat what I say!” Through my confidant, I make haste to divulge that which I have learned from the gray man. With slurred words, I speak of his strange compassion for me. His signs of emotion. I tell of his claims involving naefaeriedom and his propositioning of Mael. But there are things I refrain from sharing because the more I share, the tenser the air becomes.
Mael pales upon hearing of his want for her.
Pedj turns shifty. His teeth begin a grind.
Techton, too, is off put by my news.
Only Feligo houses a shallow expression of vendetta. He slams his fist into his palm and shouts, “If he told you not to go there, then that is exactly where we should go! What is the name of this forbidden land?!”
“B-but if he told us to not go there, maybe he’s expectin’ us to go there and whatnot,” says Pedj. “Like maybe he’s tellin’ us not to go there so that we’ll go there, and supposin’ when we get there, it’ll be a big CRANKIN’ TRAP?! TWIG IT?!” The ex-zombie is peculiarly fired up.
And he is right.
Ark told me to forget about curing the world, parallel with his order not to go to Yel’ram, implying that the answers lie within Yel’ram. Then again, mayhap he said so solely to bait us. Another luring with sweet words.
But why all of that business about not bringing the necromancers there?
Between my pactor and me, I feel a spark, faint yet undeniable.
Also, there is a place I have never gone to. THAT is where you need to go. I do not know if THEY know about it or not, but you have to bring them there, all right?
The pieces fit into place like a cracked vase rebuilt. Aye, THIS is what Awyer spoke of. It is settled. I must guide Pedj and Mael, as it is the only lead. It is not my wish to save the world, but in saving the world, Awyer will be saved. The same cannot be said of taking Ark’s offer.
And so we shall go to Yel’ram.
But I cannot name our destination in front of Techton. As far as the witch goes, the situation is not stable. It is obvious in the way he carries himself even now. Holding his wrist in his opposite hand, he looks to be pressing his arm across his body in an act of restraint.
“Is this an act, Techton?” I ask in confidence, knowing that Mael cannot hear. “Or is it true desire you fight?”
Pedj, who has long known that the witch must eventually be dealt with, responds nothing. Though upon further inspection, he is lost in his own thoughts anyway. Most likely, he is worried about Ark’s deal.
Techton answers me in a snarl, “What do you think, Grim?” His ferocity comes from nowhere.
We have experienced it before. We know what comes next.
“Techt!” Mael lets out a squeal and foolishly lurches toward the tinderbox, and is stopped dramatically by Feligo’s outstretched arm. His flair heightens under the influence of danger.
“My confidant? Are you doing what you said you would?” I cannot tell, for the glare over his face is more than convincing; it is harrowing. What is more, his dulled eyes darken into a darkness so deep that his pupils are lost. “Witch,” I speak at him sternly. “Give me a sign so that I will know whether or not to go easily on you!”
I am answered, but not in the way I hope. Without warning, a web of tar-like void shoots from Techton’s palm. My motions are already soggy, disconnected, and imprecise from my meeting with Ark, and I am not swift enough to dodge the witch’s attack. It hits with accuracy. The wind is knocked from me, though I am windless. Wrapped in sticky gunk, I succumb to the ground.
“HOOP!”
At last, Pedj reacts – yet even before he can tell the others what Techton has just committed, Mael takes it upon herself to cry,
“Stop! I’s gonna feed you, Techt, so stop!”
Not that it looks as though Techton requires her permission.
A second web of Void is directed at Feligo, who yet stands before Mael. Because the perceptive fox is with agions intact, he anticipates the strike with a slash of his sword. The Void reflects, barreling off into the city and sticking against an unfortunate park bench.
But for all of his effort, the love-struck necromancer is impulsive. She dodges from around her guardian, lays herself directly in the line of fire, and opens her arms. “Take me.”
It does not help that her lip pouts and her chest bounces.
I struggle against my sticky restraints, but fail to make leeway. Yes, we spoke of staging an incident, but the feel in the air is stomach-turning! My turned stomach knows the truth before my mind: Ark’s voided presence was enough to send the newborn witch over the edge. We are in real danger.
While Pedj is as useless as ever, stalled with mouth agape, Feligo is proactive. Firing off a warning at Techton, he follows up by cutting his sword through the air and sending a series of golden waves at the threat. Each is evaded by the witch as he uses Void to perform rapid darts through space that are all too similar to movements I have witnessed from the crones of Ensecré.
We do not stand a chance.
In a matter of heartbeats, Techton is upon his prey. Pressed against the side of Sistel 6, Mael does not struggle as her arms are pinned over her head by a rope of void.
“Pedj! If you do not act, he will pull from her until there is nothing left! The time to depart from him is now!” I scream at the holder of the crystal as he quakes in fear. Not so fearful is the silverfox. Agilely, he leaps to Mael’s aid, and is knocked into submission by another web of Void.
Techton is more powerful than he was previously! His incants come without effort, and he sustains three separate spells at once, holding Feligo, Mael and me separately captive!
I once killed one of my wards.
DREAD.
My secret allows for that which was not possible before!
“ZOMBIE! DO SOMETHING!” Wriggling from my voided chains, willing my inebriated head to clear, I let out a plea to the only one yet free.
“D-don’t,” Pedj musters meekly. It does little, though. The Azurian has already begun to taste his meal. Mouth moving with hers, he forces Void-stained Gold from her tongue. He moves with dual drives: Both the desires of man and witch fuel him. He wants her as a meal; he wants her as a wom
an, and he does not care that we protest.
“PEDJ! YOU CANNOT REFRAIN ANY LONGER! WHATEVER YOU FEAR, BE IT PROPHECY OR SECRET OR GOLD, YOU MUST ACT! YOU ARE NOW FULL NECROMANCER AND YOU ARE OF THE SAME BLOOD AS MAEL! YOUR POWER SHOULD RIGHTLY RIVAL HERS!”
The Void entrapping me does not approve of my cries. It slithers upwards, around my neck and to my mouth, where it attempts to enter me.
It is the end. Just when we have been shown the way, we are ended by one of our own.
Light. Golden light falls over a city already marked by Gold. Before I know what is happening, the Void surrounding me sizzles in the light. I am blinded. All is blinded, for the Gold reflects off of the sistels, turning the world bright as the sun.
Chapter IX: Prophecy
Without sight, I struggle up from the ground and wait for the light to clear.
It does.
And when it does, things are not as they were.
Techton is paces away, blown to the ground from the blast. A disarrayed Feligo feels about for his sword. And my feet do not skim the ground. They are firmly planted. I am solid. I am real.
Indeed, Feligo’s sight sets on me and with it, his brow line shows incomprehension.
With weak legs, I attempt to stand.
The light dims further, revealing the rest of the street. A pair of cousins stand, hand in hand, and circled by a halo of Gold. Mael looks to be as unaware as the rest of us, but Pedj? The zombie’s eyes show fear deeper than even the fear of Ark. Immediately, he performs a snap retrieval of his hand from Mael’s and staggers away from her, looking regretful.
“Pedjram? What–?” But even as she speaks, a change undergoes in Mael. Her eyes flash with Gold and a knowing registers through her mien.
“It’s all your fault, you!” Pedj shouts at fallen Techton. “If you weren’t off your CRANKIN’ NUT!”
“Zombie!” I say. “Your Gold is bright! Brighter than even that of the sphinxes!”
Rather than flattered, Pedj is crestfallen. “Ain’t mine. It’s ours.”
Feligo holds the sistel’s edge for support. “What are you talking about? And why can I see the fae? You produced enough Gold to materialize her?”
“Won’t last long,” says Pedj. “It’s gonna fade. Sorry, Grim. ‘Least we have this when it does.” He waves the crystal through the air on the way to his pocket. “Not that any of that matters now.”
With registry yet upon her face, Mael steps forward. Because of Techton’s force, locks from her ponytail have come loose around her face. The bottom of her skirt is tattered from days of ruin.
She looks to her cousin. “Know what I gotta do.” Though her face is stony, a tear runs down her cheek. “Givin’ you a head start.”
Pedj frowns, and does not take time to deliberate. “Oka,” he says, though he is not glad. “A big thanks your way.”
A head start? As in, Pedj is to part ways with Mael? “What do you mean?” I stumble towards them. “What must she do?”
“Come on, Grim.” Pedj wastes naught, dashing to me and gripping my hand, which is indeed as solid as it was in the Golden Lands. “We’re gettin’ on outta here.” He tips his head to Feligo. “You can come, too, so’s you know.”
The Maestro shows offense. “I was counting on it,” he says, perturbed. “You really mean to leave your sister with the dark thing?”
“Cousin,” Pedj corrects. “And yeah. Got to now. Tried my best not to use Gold. Turns out there wasn’t much what could be done. What’s is, is bad timing. Our trouble just got lots worse.” He draws me with him away from Mael, who yet stands rigid.
But I cannot leave so easily. “What about Awyer?!” I cry.
“Hoo! Right!” The Bloődite looks to his cousin with reservation before continuing, “Now that it’s done, senses to say a little more won’t hurt.” He thrusts me towards Feligo, and begins working over the fallen bonemen.
With princely stature, Feligo catches my unsteady shoulders and holds me in place. “Have you any idea what is going on?” I inquire of him.
“Not at all!” he crows. “And I, for one, will not stand for being kept in the dark!”
But we have not much of a say in the matter. When I approach her, Mael does not move. She stares straight ahead, as though something within her has reset. Techton sprawls upon the cobbled metal ground, motionless. For once, Pedj is the only one who moves with action.
After raising the bones, in a job done as well as his cousin, Pedj gathers up the parchments collected in the archives, tosses them into a sack containing sundries and provisions, and without so much as looking back, moves in a rapid trot down one of the alleys.
Giving Mael one last unacknowledged gesture, I make attempts to walk after Pedj, but my feet are as a fawn’s. My knees are weak and wobbly, and so I fall quickly behind the marching skeletons.
To my rescue comes a handsome-smelling fox. He catches me beneath the knees, to my surprise, and hoists me into his arms in a damsel’s carry. My first thought is to rebuke him, as I am not familiar with him. Alas, I am at his mercy, and our time will be much better made if we are not made to wait on my awkward limbs.
“Y-you have my gratitude,” I say, feeling small.
With me in his arms, Feligo leaps to catch up with Pedj. “What is the meaning of this?” he demands.
“Yes, Pedj,” I say. “What is happening?”
But an answer, Pedj does not give. “Which way’s outta here?” he asks the native Azurian.
Irritated, Feligo tells him to turn right at the next intersection.
Pedj does not offer an explanation. He does not falter. He merely continues on until we and our company of skeletons is at the edge of the city. I have never seen him act this way. I have never seen him wear such determination.
And even by the time I have faded to nonexistence once again, Pedj has not let up his mission. While I skim back and forth between him and Feligo, showing my frustrations in the movement of my shadow, Pedj refuses to place the everglowing crystal into his mouth. He refuses to see me. He refuses to hear me.
. . .
For the first time in my existence I know what it is truly like to be nonexistent. Unheard. Unseen. Unreal. Without my confidant, what am I? I am nothing. A wisp. A vapor. No, even those things exist in the physical plane.
I am a shadow. Unable to exist in the absence of another.
Feligo and I are not given the luxury of knowing to where or from what we flee. We are left to follow blindly, trusting on much less than faith that the riled ex-zombie leads us as he should.
And only when the domes of the city are distant to the eye, and the sky above is darkened gray, does our leader halt. At which point he nods to my shadow and says,
“I think it’s time you knew my secret.”
. . .
“Before we get down to it, where zactly did Ark say you shouldn’t bring us? Spill it, Grim!”
This, Pedj asks of my shadow before popping the darkened crystal into his mouth.
“Yel’ram,” I answer him, sour over his long silence. “Or as he called it, Cascade Yel’ram. More importantly, explain at once what you–”
Pedj removes the crystal, so that my words fall on no one, and addresses Feligo, “Don’t know how much of this is gonna make sense to you, but try to keep it straight, oka?” He bids the bones carrying Awyer to rest before continuing, “Us Bloődites – no us necromancers – we got this thing. It’s like . . . Hmm.”
This thing? His vagueness is not easy to tolerate.
Pedj starts again. “Like anybody, us necromancers got clans, and what’s is, is each clan’s got a book. And each book’s got a sayin’ what was written last time the necromancers was in charge of Amethyst. That was the time we was most powerful, so our great-great-great-great-great-however many great-granddars left a legacy for each dead-raisin’ family. The sayin’s kinda sorta like a . . .”
“A creed?” offers Feligo, who is not any more tolerant of vagueness.
“Naw, more like a
purpose. Each one’s secret to each family, and only the men in the clan’re allowed to read from the book. Kinda funny considerin’ women always make the stronger necromancers. Almost like we’re usin’ it as a defense against their power, you ask me. That’s why Mael didn’t know any of it, and I never put much stock in it till this whole Goldpocalypse.” The zombie pauses. “You still with me, Grim? Sorry, it’s right easier to jabber when I ain’t got that rock in my mouth.”
Though I am annoyed at being unheard, I give my waning shadow a bob to show compliance.
“When I first met you, I was on the run from the croops. They was always so adamant about gettin’ me in on necromancy, even though I was half raised and half raiser.”
This is news to Feligo. The silverfox crinkles his brow, probably trying to guess Pedj’s complicated conception.
“There was a reason the croops wouldn’t let me rest, and it all had to do with what was written in that book. One day, when I was a kipper, Granddar and Grandmar brought me and Mael to the meadow Láeer.”
“I remember you spoke of it once,” I tell his unhearing ears.
“I ‘member it real good ‘cause Granddar caught his foot in a burrow. He got tripped up and I never heard anyone swear so loud. Anyhoop, that was the first time Granddar told me the truth of what was written in the book. Never thought I’d get to know, being only half a necromancer and all, but in our family, there was a shortage of boys, and I was as good as it got, I guess. Plus, what was written in the book required not just a boy, but also a felion. Felion’s like a term for a sister, but it doesn’t got to be a real sister. Could be an aunt or a cousin . . . ‘s long as you grow up together.”
“Mael,” I say aloud, to no end.
“The reason I never thought much of what was written is ‘cause it didn’t make a crankin’ lick of sense! Was all talkin’ ‘bout the power of the sun and the felion’s quarry. Was baloney! But Granddar believed it, and he warned me that I had to stay in school and try to turn my Bloőd to sunpower – whatever the heck that was – or my birth woulda been for nothin’. You see, there’s other cases of necromancers what are half-dead, but they’re few and far between, and not smiled upon so hot. If it weren’t for what was written in the book, I never woulda had to enroll in trainin’ with those croops at all.” Pedj grinds his teeth with regret. “And, makin’ things worse, in the summer I had to go with Mael to the Rusticlands to bond with her. They had all these lame activities set up for us, stuff where I had to protect her and whatnot – which was always pointless, as she was always stronger than me! Wasn’t the way I wanted to spend my free time. Not that we didn’t get along, but Mael was never quite right in the nut. Guess now we know why that was, her being leeched on by an agent all those years.”
