Soul Shelter (Soulship Book 2)

by Nathan Thompson

  “I can understand that,” I said indifferently as I shifted into a more comfortable position on the cavern floor. “In my defense, I did not even land the killing blow on the creature, though I regret not being strong enough to kill it myself. It was a cage drake, a monster that had already wrought great harm on my home planet, and sought to cause greater harm to my friend.”

  “Your planet must be far away from here,” Mara considered. “There are no cage drakes in any of the nearby worlds, nor are there beings that speak the tongue you currently use. Why would your master bother taking one so weak across such great distances?”

  “My master prefers secrecy, but she can travel great distances easily. But to tell you the truth, Mara, I couldn’t even begin to guess how far I have already traveled. I know almost nothing of the night sky.”

  “Nor should you, at your current power,” the dragon-turned-woman answered frankly. “Too many young ones find a way to travel to places and worlds they are not yet ready for, and perish because of it. Your master either knows exactly where she wishes to take you or is comfortable taking great risks with your safety. If she is the second, I must think less of her for it.”

  “She fears for my safety constantly,” I said as I shook my head. “In fact she has done all she can to drive me away. But she knows I have nowhere else to go, and she has no one else to aid her.”

  “Then she should hide, until she no longer needs aid,” Mara said bluntly. “If she is strong enough to travel as well as you say, then she is strong enough to wait out her problems.”

  “Unless she is mad, like the three of us.” I gestured all around me, and Nestor naively squeaked over being included. “Then she will take the problems of others and make them her own.”

  “Then I mourn for her,” the old dragon-woman replied. “But if she is a mother as well, I suppose I can understand her having the same madness as myself.”

  “I do not know if she is a mother,” I admitted with a shrug. “But I suspect she is far too young. But I did not know you are a mother, Senior. If you had children to defend, your actions would make sense.”

  “I was a mother,” Mara answered me with a sigh. “That is no longer the case now.”

  “Then your explanation is no longer clear,” I pointed out. It was rude of me, but our conversation helped distract her from the pain of her wounds, and I had nothing else I could do for her.

  “Once you lose one child,” Mara spat bitterly. “Every small cry becomes too loud, be it Sourcebeast or human. That deranged, wretched excuse of another Sourcebeast wanted to make over ten thousand small voices of every local race cry out in pain, just to help him ascend beyond the walls imposed by the night sky. As if that was the only way to become great,” she spat with heat. “I am not so old that I can tolerate such blasted nonsense. Not so close to my front door. That mongrel had better choke to death on his own blood.” She looked back at me, eyes still shining with anger. “Tell me, full-grown man. What is your excuse for being so mad? Your lifemouse is too young to know better. Why did you come here, and risk a mad old woman’s wrath just to make her comfortable in the end?”

  “Because said old woman is sick and bleeding,” I answered simply. “I have been sick and bleeding myself in the past.”

  “And?” she challenged, not backing down.

  I shrugged, exasperated that she still wanted more from me.

  “You tell me, Senior, since you are so wise,” I said with mock respect. “Do old women ache less than grown men when they lie bleeding and alone, regardless of race?”

  The anger faded from her eyes.

  “No,” the old woman replied, “I suspect they do not. If anything, their wounds probably hurt much more.” She paused for a moment. “I am sorry, Jasper Cloud. Compassion is a terrible curse to have under the night sky. I would not wish this pain on anyone.”

  “If we had wished it on everyone, and had it been granted, it would not have to hurt at all,” I grumbled, telling myself I should work to be better company for her right now. But I was too angry with my conscience right now to pay it any heed.

  “True,” the woman answered me, wincing in pain suddenly. The blankets I had wrapped her in were slowly growing more red. “I hurt much less, now, young one. I must thank you for that. But I will still take hours to die, unless you are willing to slay me yourself.”

  “That I do not have enough compassion to do,” I growled. “And Vessa, if you are watching this at all, know that I am angry with you. I told you she would ask me to do that.”

  “Have you watched a woman die before, young one?” Mara asked me, probably just to distract herself from her own pain. “And was Vessa that woman’s name?”

  “I have watched one woman die, and had one other beg me for death. The second I refused, and watched her recover as she found a way to hope again. The first woman went to her death with burning eyes, wishing to rip her murderers apart with her bare hands. I suspect she restrained herself on account of my own safety, though I will never know for certain.”

  “Then why do you bother wondering at all, if you will never know?” Mara asked pitilessly, but it was a fair question, nonetheless.

  “Because she was my mother,” I answered, looking into my memories instead of her own challenging eyes.

  The old woman fell silent again.

  “I am sorry,” she finally said. “Please humor a dying woman a little longer, and tell me: were her murderers ever brought to justice?”

  “There is no justice on my world,” I answered darkly. “My parents were teachers, and healers, and protectors, preserving knowledge deemed dangerous to men on brittle thrones. And so they were both put to death, and denounced as dogs. Before they were sentenced, they begged me to be more selfish than angry, so that I might not share their fate.” I felt my stare harden, though I gazed at nothing at all. “Before I met my master, I had feared I would be forced to honor their wishes for the rest of my life. Now, I hope to have vengeance in addition to survival.”

  “I see,” the dying dragon-woman sighed. “I hope you achieve both, young Jasper: a long life, and the death of all your enemies. Know that the second is often necessary to achieve the first.”

  “That proved not to be true, in your case,” I pointed out, since the poor woman insisted on brutal honesty.

  “Oh, it was very true,” Mara replied with a short, pained laugh. “The blood-fool was not my enemy. He wished me no harm, and probably did not even know of my existence. But for the children of these worlds, he was their greatest enemy. I have done all I could to ensure his death, so that they all could have long lives.” Her head turned again, and the challenge finally left her eyes. “By easing my suffering, you have diminished his power, and given those children a chance on top of what I have given them. Thank you for that, young Jasper. My ghost will praise you, wherever it goes.”

  This time, I bit down on my harsh reply. I already had my fill of ghosts. The kind ones, such as my parents, often too quiet, barely speaking, and never speaking at all when I was hungry. The... others were all too loud, all too hungry, all too great.

  So I nodded to the poor dying woman and said nothing, holding my tongue for once. She must have noticed the lie in my silence.

  “You have been given too many spirits already,” she noted sadly. “I wish I could offer you something different. But most of my treasure was lost along with my children. And I doubt I could even properly teach you any of my knowledge, as broken as I am now. The only thing I can do is to ensure my death gives you as much essence as possible, a difficult thing to do, since you are clearly bent on refusing to kill me.”

  “I am.” I nodded. “I remain skeptical that a being at the natal stage could kill you, even as you are now.”

  “It would probably take you an hour,” Mara grumbled. “But you could ensure my death would be rather painless. Your enemy would not grow stronger for it, and you would still gain much.”

  “If he grows on suffering, he will grow on my o
wn pain when I struggle to put an old mother to death,” I argued. “And do not call yourself childless anymore. You became a mother again the moment a thousand tiny voices cried out for life, and you answered.”

  She opened her mouth to answer, but then Nestor rose his tiny head and squeaked in alarm.

  Some-comes, he sent to my mind. Foes-near. Smell-wrong.

  “And now you have more visitors,” I said irritably as I rose to my feet. “It figures, considering how badly we both want to be left alone.”

  My temper had seized control of my tongue once more, but so be it. Today had already done more than enough to anger me.

  “It is more likely due to the fact that a powerful enemy needs to ensure my death,” Mara said dryly. “He cannot be certain of my wounds, and his servants have none of your inexplicable issues with harvesting my essence.”

  How-many? I asked my bonded companion.

  Three-close, Nestor assured me. Two-weak.

  That was almost good news. But it probably meant that the third enemy was much stronger than what Nestor or I could have dealt with.

  “Go, young man named Jasper,” the dying old woman sighed. “You tried. You have done all you could for an old woman that was going to die anyway.”

  “Will that have been enough for the children said old woman fought to protect?” I asked bitterly.

  “I do not know, brat,” Mara replied, but there was no anger in her voice. “I am tired. I have done all I could as well. I wish to go to sleep and no longer think.”

  A thought occurred to me, and suddenly I wished to slap myself.

  “I should just move you,” I said. “My master gave me the power to travel to this world instantly, and leave whenever I wish. It will cost almost nothing to transport the three of us somewhere safe.”

  Yes-yes! Nestor spoke up, no longer content to just listen. Help-help! Save-save!

  The dying old woman blinked.

  “That... would kill me instantly,” she said slowly, eyes widening with awareness. “That is a perfect solution! Do it! It will be painless, and it will save all the children of this world! Hurry! Pull my body through the sky, for the sake of the lives still worth saving!”

  What-what? Nestor sent as he squeaked, looking at us both in alarm. No-no! Save-save!

  She is dying, Nestor, I said sadly to the little mouse as I shook my head. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to change that when I came here. I shook my head, realizing some small part of me had agreed to no such thing. I just didn’t know how to tell you that.

  No-no! the fluffy rodent thought angrily, not backing down at all. You-swore! Save-save!

  He closed his black eyes and bowed his little head as if he was concentrating. I had no idea what he was doing, until almost a full minute later, when I heard my own voice in his mind.

  If we find others who we can risk showing weakness to, we will protect them as well...

  Save-save, the mouse said stubbornly. You-swore. Formed-pact.

  Hollow American Hells, I swore to myself as I stared back at him.

  He was right. I hadn’t put any exceptions inside that oath. There was no clause regarding those who were already doomed, no exceptions that saving some would only be a waste of effort.

  If I wanted to retain Nestor as a bonded companion, I would have to uphold my poorly worded vow, that stated the innocent were always worth protecting, no matter how much time they had left to live.

  Save-save! he demanded, glaring at me more fiercely than he ever had. You-swore!

  You’re right, I said as I dusted myself off. Save-save. We’ll do what we can for her.

  Yes-yes! The little mouse bobbed his head. Save-save! Thank-you!

  It was then that I realized with growing horror that Nestor had never even considered that we would fail to save the dying dragon-woman. He fully believed that we would not leave this cave with anything less than her intact and rescued life, all assurances to the contrary be damned.

  “Apologies, Senior,” I said as I stood protectively in front of her and awaited her predators, Nestor scampering over to stand by my feet. “All fear and sense present in this room has been outvoted by the wrath and hope of one little mouse. Please permit yourself to remain under my care.”

  “Foolish young thing,” the dragon-woman panted in defeat, closing her eyes again. “Fine. I am tired. Do what you wish. But if you or your little mouse die, I will haunt and berate you both.”

  “Understood,” I said as I saw three figures appear at the mouth of the cave. One was bipedal and tall, while the other two slunk along on four legs, coming up to the figure’s waist. The two four-legged figures sniffed and yipped excitedly at the trail of blood, and the man standing between them chuckled as the three of them slowly advanced into the cave.

  Had I more time, or anywhere at all to hide in this blasted bare place, I would have planned some sort of ambush, like I had done with Vessa’s obnoxiously frequent predators. But one of the wolf-creatures suddenly yipped again, and all three heads swiveled toward my direction.

  “You there!” the man boomed in a strong voice. “Stay where you are!”

  I contemplated shouting back to him that I had an urgent appointment somewhere else—a baking lesson, perhaps—and regretfully could not reply, but instead settled for preparing for the eventual fight, ensuring my normal qi techniques were active, that my battery ring was on my finger, and so forth. The best surprise was my discovery that both of my spiritual knives were ready to be summoned back outside of my Soulscape.

  Eventually, the large man and his two wolf-things approached close enough for me to get a good look at them. The man was a broad, powerful figure, bare-chested with brown pants made out of some animal hide. His skin was tan, but otherwise of the same white-pink color as Nova or my father’s people. He had neck-long, unkempt, brown hair, and he grinned pitilessly as he came closer. He was huge, I realized, close to the size of Director Jones, only more muscular. He would have towered over my old, weakened body, and I had to suppress the street-gained instinct that had taught me to be afraid of large, powerful men. Instead, I watched his bearing, trying to learn whatever weakness I could from his stance. I noted that he had a large, broad knife stuffed into his broad belt.

  He also had the same unfocused stare the alpha wolf from earlier had.

  So did the two wolves flanking him.

  The difference was that these two already bore wounds. One had a deep slash across its throat that didn’t seem to bother it at all, while the other seemed to have been partially skinned along its left flank, from its back leg to the cheek of its face. They both panted heavily, excitably even, watching me impatiently as their master regarded me with a calm, smug, grin.

  Mad-things, Nestor told me sadly, still crouched at my side. All-three.

  As my senses mingled with the little mouse, I got a better picture of the power our three new enemies wielded. The two wolves reeked of death and blood essence, clearly a mix of life and unlife, but they seemed the weaker for it. Their essence levels were no greater than my own, and Nestor projected confidence and contempt when I absently wondered whether he would be able to handle one.

  But the practitioner was another matter. He had no obvious wounds, but the strength he projected screamed that he had entered the wailing stage of essence Advancement, a gap that I could not close even with all three of my Source energies.

  “What are you doing here?” the man rumbled, in what I remembered to be German. “Have you come to take our kill from us?”

  “I am not a thief,” I replied, neither rudely nor fearfully. “I was merely curious as to what this trail of blood led to. But as far as I could tell, there is nothing here. Feel free to look yourselves.”

  I gestured apathetically behind me, looking as indifferent as I could.

  The man chuckled at me, not buying my explanation for a minute.

  “Is that so? I think I will do just that. Or maybe you already harvested the dragon’s Source, and so I should k
ill you now?”

  “If you care to risk the attempt,” I said with a shrug, still doing my best to sound apathetic. “You would be risking your own life and Source energy, though.”

  “Maybe,” he said, unfocused eyes rolling a tad to the left, as if in thought. “But if you had already absorbed the wounded beast’s Source, you would not be talking with me at all. You would be killing me and my dogs, then killing whatever else you wished. Unless you’re one of those cowards that grow squeamish when it’s time to kill something. If that were the case, then you wouldn’t have killed our enemy to begin with. Which means the prey is still behind you, and free for the taking,” he gloated, bloodshot eyes glittering now.

  “I assure you,” I said levelly, staring the madman in his reddening eyes. “I am not squeamish about killing. Not if my own memory serves me.”

  “Good,” he answered, stepping forward, his two mutilated canines still flanking him. “I wish for you to prove it then. But first humor my curiosity, stranger. Where did you come from?”

  I wanted to curse, but there was nothing I could do about it. As a child of Earth, and one from two different races at that, I should have expected my appearance to stand out on these different worlds even more than it already did. Vessa apparently expected the same thing, and saw no issue yet with my admitting that I was a wanderer from another star in the night sky.

  That, or she still expected me to flee every time instead of speak, despite my repeated failures in that regard.

  “I come from a world far beyond this one. My master owes the one behind me a favor, and has chosen to intervene in this dispute. Please allow me to carry the one in the cave to safety. My master will recompense you for your mercy.”

  That, I thought to myself, was a much better lie.