He stumbled over to his pallet, vomited, and passed out in his own mess. Nial’s mind had gone numb with the first punch. She barely felt the beating, she was so light-headed from hunger and misery. This time is different. Her body was going cold. But that was fine. The blood pooling under her was lovely and warm. It reminded her of the times her mother would heat pot after pot of water and they would each take a hot bath in the spare rain barrel. She couldn’t wait for the water to rise and warm the rest of her cold body. Her mind went strangely blank, and she felt herself reaching out for the memory of her mother.
Nial! She struggled to move. Was that her mother calling?
My poor sweet Nial, answer me. It was a woman’s voice, but it wasn’t her mother. It carried a desperation of its own. Nial wanted to get up and warn the nice lady. Her father would be angry if a stranger came into the house. But it was no use, she was too weak. She couldn’t move. A warm feeling flowed over her whole body.
I am like you, Nial. Weak, and my family treats me harshly. Nial felt sad for the nice woman. There is strength within us both. If we share with each other, we will be strong indeed! Nial smiled. It would be nice to be strong. Our hearts will warm each other. We will never be cold or alone again. Just open yourself to me. Nial tried to ask “How?” but her mouth wouldn’t work. She almost panicked. Would her nice new friend think she didn’t want to help her? Dearest Nial, don’t worry. I will never leave you alone. Now, open your heart and your mind to me. I am Zulaxrak. Take my name into your heart as I have taken yours. We will become one.
Nial thought of the strange name. She repeated it in her mind over and over again. She offered all the love in her heart and desperately wished for Zulaxrak to love her in return. Then came a wave of ecstasy. Nial joined with another being in a way that few ever can. They shared consciousness, knowledge, and lives as the essence of Zulaxrak was drawn into Nial’s body.
Nial gasped as a seemingly endless stream of images and memories flooded into her mind. She understood now that Zulaxrak was a demon. Zuly, she thought affectionately. A fledgling succubus. Bigger, stronger demons had often tormented her. She had fled her world into the void just as a great brute of a Scar demon was about to devour her. In Zuly’s mind, Nial saw the demon world she had come from. A dark waste. Stone, dust, and desolation. Various demons mated or were raped and spawned young in the fetid pools that dotted the stony landscape. The demons that hatched were as varied in their forms as their parents had been. From the moment they hatched, the battle to survive began and never ended. Demons consumed, used, or enslaved each other to grow in power. They did not require food or water to live. But the hunger to grow, the hunger for more strength and power, was more intense by far. The strong dominated while the weak ended up as dinner. With each new kind of demon they consumed, they would evolve, gaining some of the powers of the fallen. The greatest demons were those that managed to find a way to a mortal realm to consume souls. The souls became bound within the demon—even if the demon was defeated and banished back to the demon world. A demon grew mighty with just a single soul. Amon Kareth, the archdemon of this world, had consumed thousands.
Zuly shuddered in pleasure at the rush of power. She saw how Nial and her parents lived and how her mother died. She saw the beatings in the child’s memories and understood. Their worlds were different in many ways, but the rule of strength was the same. She had thought to offer the child all kinds of things to allow her to enter, to bind her wasted essence to Nial’s body to save herself. But Nial had pulled her in deeply, had shared her body with Zuly completely and without hesitation. Pushed to desperation, they had each found a comfort and kinship in the other. The bond they had formed was a strange one. Zuly didn’t understand it very well. She thought they had each become the other’s familiar. Zuly herself was surprised by the fading of her hunger. For the first time in her existence she felt safe and almost at peace.
Nial, you are a mage of great power. You might not have known what you were doing, but you called me here. You helped me open the way. Our talents will feed off each other and we will become mighty. No one will ever hurt us again.
Nial felt the blood being drawn back into her body. Your blood is far too precious. We mustn’t waste a single drop. Nial pulled herself to her feet and walked over to her own pallet. She drifted off to sleep with a smile on her lips.
Nial woke up long before her father and started to clean the house as she had done every day since her mother had died. She thought of the previous night, not sure if it had been a dream.
Her skin was unmarked. She looked at her reflection in the rain barrel and saw that her face wasn’t even bruised. She whispered, “Zuly?”
I am here with you, Nial. I will always be here. The voice came from inside her head.
“Zuly! I was afraid you were only a dream.”
I’m happy to say sometimes dreams come true.
Nial sighed in relief and continued chatting happily with her new friend as she went about her chores. An hour past midday, as she was sweeping the leaves from their lane, she heard her father fumbling around in the kitchen, looking for food and drink.
“Nial! Where are you? You worthless child!” She had never heard him so angry when he wasn’t drunk. Fear kept her standing outside.
Don’t fear, sweet Nial. Remember, you are no longer alone.
“Thank you, Zuly! It’s just that he’s so angry.”
You have nothing to fear. Now let’s go inside and deal with your father where no one else can see.
Nial let the twig broom fall in the dust and walked into the house. She was not alone now. She would not be afraid, not ever again. Her father was breaking empty jugs and plates, building up his temper.
“First no dinner and now no breakfast?!” Zuly and Nial looked back at him from inside their shared body, not bowing her head as he had expected.
“If you didn’t spend every coin on cheap drink, maybe I’d be able to buy food.” His bloodshot eyes went wide with surprise. “And if you woke up earlier, I wouldn’t have to tell your customers to take their money somewhere else.” The girls could see shame and anger warring in his eyes. Anger won.
“You sniveling little bitch! How dare you speak to me that way! I should sell you! Then I wouldn’t be wasting half my food on you.” The back of his hand cracked against her face. The girls stumbled back. Their mouth was bleeding, but they were smiling.
“That was the last time you will ever hit me, Father.”
Zuly came forward and showed Nial how to use the magic inside her. Invisible power reached out and grabbed Nial’s father as he was about to swing again. His eyes bulged as his arms were slowly twisted behind his back. Slowly the girls increased the pressure until he groaned in pain.
“Now, Father,” said Zuly. “I will explain how our new lives will be. You will get up at dawn every morning. You will stand on the street at the end of the lane and shout out your services like a street hawker until two hours past dusk. Any and all coin you receive, you will hand directly to me. I will continue to clean and cook, but I’m through doing it without you doing your part.” The girls dropped him in a heap on the floor. He stared at Nial. The voice and body were those of his daughter, but the words were more mature by far.
“Freak! Witch! Possessed! I’ll have the priests burn you alive!”
Zuly just laughed. “The drunkard who beats his daughter is afraid because the child is making him do his work? Who would believe you? Now, enough talking. Get outside to the rain barrel and clean yourself up. You have work to do.” He just sat on the floor staring dumbly at her.
“I wasn’t asking, Father.” Zuly’s power flowed out, gripped him around the head, and dragged him toward the door. He was whimpering as urine stained his breeches and ran down to the floor. “And, Father, if a single drop of ale or wine passes your lips, you will suffer for it. Do we understand each other?” Without waiting for an answer, Nial opened the door and threw him outside. With a smile on her face and a spri
ng in her steps, she went back to her chores.
Nial, I’m bored . . . Let’s go out and play!
“But I haven’t finished cleaning yet.”
You clean every day. It’s clean already. And you need a break.
“Father has been working hard; I just want to do my part too.”
I know you’re a good girl, Nial, but he did nothing for years. And the house really isn’t going to get any cleaner no matter how long you scrub it. We’ll only go out for an hour, all right?
“I guess an hour would be fine. It would be nice to play in the sun.”
As they left the house, Nial could hear her father’s hammer ringing clearly through the early afternoon bustle of the merchant quarter. It was a happy sound. It made her think of times when her mother had still been alive. He had taken Zuly’s warning to heart and didn’t drink a drop. He worked every day until he was exhausted. With Nial’s permission he used some of his earnings to buy extra metals and worked them into a variety of shapes to hawk on the street while he looked for more customers. Word was getting around about the quality of his work, and more and more customers came down the lane to see him. Building a real forge was becoming a goal again.
“This was a good idea, Zuly. We haven’t been out for anything but going to the market in weeks.”
I want to show you something, Nial. I’ve been exploring the city at night. While you sleep my mind is free to wander. Memories played out for Nial of a small door at the end of an alley. All kinds of strangely dressed people were going in and out of the place. This is where I want to go.
“Of course, Zuly.” Nial smiled and skipped down the street. Some of the people Zuly had shown her looked really funny. Passersby smiled at the happy little girl hopping down the street talking to herself.
Zuly guided them down several smaller and darker streets until they came out into a muddy little alley. The smell was foul. Refuse was piled in the streets.
“What is this place, Zuly? It smells bad.”
This is where your father used to come to drink. These are the slums, or the Muds. The poorest people in the city live here.
“The slums are a bad place. My mother always told me bad people live here.”
Not all of them are bad, sweet Nial. The really bad people mostly only come out at night when they don’t have to try so hard to hide what they do. But the place I sensed isn’t far.
They walked through several more filthy streets. The ground was nothing but a squelching mess of mud and worse. The sewers didn’t even extend into this part of the city. Rats scurried around, darting away from mud-caked urchins. Every second door seemed to be a brothel or a run-down drinking house. Overly thin, tired women looked out of windows and tried to catch the attention of passing men. On the street there were few people. The children she saw moved quickly and looked over their shoulders often. There were some older prostitutes, men and women both, past their best earning years and cast out of the brothels, wandering around with lost looks. They called out to the few men who walked by in threadbare clothing.
Nial was shocked. Her home in the merchant quarter, modest as it was, had not prepared her for this squalor. How could people who were so terribly poor and sad live just a few minutes’ walk from her house?
We’re almost there, said Zuly. We just need to go to the end of this street and take the next right. Nial walked faster, eager to get this little errand of Zuly’s out of the way. As they reached the end of the street and turned into the little alley on the right, they saw a man looking at them strangely. He was wearing a brown cloak with the hood up even on this nice sunny summer day. Other than the mud stains around the hem, it looked far cleaner and newer than the clothes everyone else was wearing. They couldn’t see his face clearly, but he made Nial’s skin crawl looking at her the way he was. They rushed past him and walked down to the end of the alley. It was a dead end. Only a single dingy-looking wood door marked the muddy brick walls.
“Lost are you, little bird?” They spun around. The man had followed them. He sounded like the few customers Nial’s father had who wore really nice clothes. But it made her feel dirty having this man talk to them, even more than walking barefoot through all the filth.
“How lucky for both of us that I was the one to find you.”
“I’m not lost, sir. I’m just out for a walk,” Nial said as she backed away from him.
“Of course you are. Now come here, little bird. I’ll take good care of you.” He sounded angry now. He stepped closer. They could see his face in the shadows of his hood. A normal-looking man that Nial wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been looking at her with such a scary, hungry look. He dashed forward and tried to grab Nial but came up short. He looked back, wondering what was holding him back, but he couldn’t see anything. Zuly had stopped him with her magic. She tightened it all around him, forcing his arms to his sides.
“What . . . ?” He started to shout before Zuly snapped his mouth shut. His eyes were wide now. The hunger in them had fled. Nial could see only terror.
I’m sorry, Nial. I really thought we’d get here without attracting so much attention during the day. But I guess it’s for the best. This horrible man will give us something to trade with.
“Trade with?” asked Nial. Yes, this place is a store. A very special store. We have to hurry. We can’t be seen out here like this.
Zuly reached out and pushed on the wood door with their magic. It swung inward silently. They walked into the strangest shop Nial had ever seen. There were bundles of herbs and plants all around the room like in the apothecary she had visited with her father when her mother was sick. But all kinds of other strange things were scattered around as well: pieces of animals, dried or floating in jars like pickles; jagged pieces of stone or metal; small statues; and even some jewelry hanging from hooks on the wall behind the counter. A man entered the room from the far side. He was totally hairless and wore only a pair of knee-length breeches. The rest of his body was covered with a dizzying pattern of tattoos and scars. Seemingly random objects—glass, metal, and even small tools—pierced any patch of skin he could conceivably reach.
His dark eyes were bright as he welcomed Nial to his store: “Welcome, little lady. What can old Skeg do for you this fine day?” His voice was raspy, each word strangely drawn out. He seemed to be totally ignoring the man floating behind them.
“Hello, Mister Skeg,” answered Zuly. “We’re looking for a sphere of polished obsidian. About twice the size of my fist should do.”
Skeg’s eyes widened slightly when Zuly said “we,” and he looked at them intently for a moment before answering. “I think I have something that could do the trick. Obsidian is not widely used in this city so you’re lucky.” He stepped around the counter and through a curtain. “I won’t be a moment.”
He reappeared a minute later with a black glassy orb in his hands. The reflections off it were faintly green. “Will this do?”
“It’s perfect,” said Zuly. “Do you have tools to carve it as well?”
“I might have something here somewhere.” He ran his hands over his body and pulled two sharp little glass carving tools out of the skin on the small of his back. Both the tools were faintly wet with blood. Zuly nodded.
“Now about payment. . . . I assume the gentleman behind you will be handling that part of our transaction?” Zuly nodded again.
“He will, but only his body. His soul is ours.”
Skeg’s eyes widened so much that Nial thought they would fall out of his head. “. . . and you can do that?” he asked.
“We can. But we’ll need a safe place to do it. We don’t want to get noticed.” She stared at him.
“Of course, of course. The back room is fully warded. You should be able to do whatever you need there.” He gestured for her to follow him and walked back through the curtain behind the counter.
The back room was musty and bare. The whitewash was mildewed, and a small, rickety staircase was set against the back wall.
A tattered straw rug covered the floor. Skeg knelt down and rolled it up. Beneath it, the stone floor had been carved with a wide swirl of strange letters and shapes that radiated out from a central point almost to the walls.
“Some customers need to use this from time to time. It should mask near anything a single talent can whip up, should keep any noise in as well,” said Skeg. “Is this going to be messy?”
“It might be,” answered Zuly. “If you bring me a basin, I should be able to keep most of the blood in it.”
Skeg nodded and rushed back out to the store. Nial was sure she had seen his hands shaking.
He came back in with a large wood washbasin. “Where would you like it?”
Zuly pointed to the center of the circle. He nodded and set it down, then gave a little nod and walked back out into the store. Zuly used their power and made the man they had caught float over the basin. Nial? You may not want to watch this part. I’m going to hurt this bad man.
“Is he really so bad?” Nial answered out loud. I can taste it coming off him, my sweet Nial. I can tell what kind of person he is. He has caused a lot of pain to those around him, especially girls. Worse, he likes it. And wants nothing more than to do it again and again. Nial nodded, accepting what Zuly told her. Her mother had been harsh but fair. Punishment was something she understood.
“Okay, Zuly. I’ll try not to watch.” That’s good, Nial. But even if you peek, remember what I am going to do to this monster is not nearly as bad as he deserves. Zuly relaxed part of her binding and released the man’s jaw.
“I will give you one chance to make this quick and painless.” The man stared at her, his eyes wild.
“Please! Please!” he screamed. “I won’t do it again, I swear! I’ve got money! I have rich friends! I could get you gold if you let me go!”
Zuly looked at him impassively. “You will repeat after me: I grant you power over my soul.”
“You’re mad!” the man screeched.
“You will say it, little man. And you will mean it with your whole being. I will know when you do. Till then . . .” She gestured and a small cut appeared across his cheek. Slowly the cut lengthened and branched into two. Each new cut branched again and extended down under his tunic. The man’s desperate screams changed pitch as the pain hit him. Zuly gestured impatiently, and his clothes split along the seams and floated across the room to land in a heap. The cuts continued to grow and to multiply. Blood started to drip down into the washbasin. “Say the words and I will end your pain,” said Zuly.
The Bones of the Past (Books of Dust and Bone) Page 3
