Soul Shelter (Soulship Book 2)

by Nathan Thompson

  “I broke them shut, to keep them from breaking open,” I explained. “Though I have no idea if it will work for long.”

  “It shouldn’t need to,” Vessa muttered, blinking, even though she hadn’t been sleeping for very long. “I can reinforce it with Source energy when I get the room back and—oh,” she said suddenly, eyes finally open. “You’re still holding me.”

  “Yes,” I answered obviously, “because we are not there yet.”

  “Right,” Vessa admitted, looking away from me. Nova flashed a brief, and thoroughly wicked, grin, before wearing a deadpan expression.

  “Can you open the door now, Vessa?” Nova asked in an innocent tone. “Or do you need to wait a little longer?”

  “No, we need to move,” the ship-woman said quickly, and firmly. “Hold on.”

  She shifted in my arms, lifted up her own hand, and the door opened quickly.

  I flinched, remembering that Nova had detected no monsters beyond the door, just like she had with the secret door in the wall. I hoped she was not wrong a second time. But even as I began to panic, the metal barriers parted to reveal an empty room.

  “All clear,” Vessa said as her gray eyes glowed. “Perfect. Looks like you both handled a big group of eaterlings all by yourselves. But I don’t see any bodies from the second group I felt you two fight.”

  “Jasper and I, uh, burned them all,” Nova admitted. “They were super-creepy dead things led by a giant freak that had a giggling problem and an obsession with dolls.”

  “Oh, wow,” Vessa said, her eyes widening. “Then... yeah. Yeah, that’s valid. I would have burned them all too. Good job.”

  “Thanks,” Nova said slowly, as if she was uncomfortable with agreeing with her other body. But just processing that fact made my head hurt, so I tried to move us back on task.

  “Show me where to put you, Vessa,” I said firmly. “And then tell us what those things were, so we know what to do about them in the future.”

  “Right there,” she said, pointing to the middle of the room. “Just stand at that spot for a moment, and I can show you what to do next.”

  I carried the woman to the center of the room, eyeing the welded door at the other end the whole time.

  “Right,” she said, noting my concern. “That’s the first thing we should return power to, just in case. Fortunately, I have enough power to reinforce that thing without needing to bring the whole room back online. Now move a little to your left,” she instructed, “and stand on that exact spot.”

  I stood on top of a tile with a circle etched into the center of it, making sure one of my feet touched the circle itself. Vessa nodded in satisfaction, then she closed her eyes and began to glow blue, much like the lines of power running through her ship. She frowned in concentration, then the circle under my feet began to glow with blue light as well, just before it grew a thin line that ran between the other tiles until it reached the ruined door at the other end of the hall. It flickered as it tried to pass into the threshold, and Vessa’s frown deepened into a grimace.

  “Good grief, Jas,” she grunted in surprise. “You literally welded this thing shut through every seam.”

  I nodded without apologizing, because I would have done even more than that, had I been able to. And it still probably would not have been enough.

  And on that thought, I opened up my Soulscape and began venting atmosphere over Vessa.

  “Nova,” I said as I looked at the ship-woman’s Beacon. “Please come stand in front of us.”

  “Why?” the blonde woman asked, tilting her head.

  “Just as a precaution,” I insisted. “I’m performing a veiling technique with my Soulscape. Please. Just humor me,” I begged.

  “Fine,” she said with a shrug, walking in front of me. I sighed in relief, and began covering both women in spiritual air from my palms.

  Me-too? my fluffy companion sent, hopping onto my shoulder and sensing my distress.

  You too, little friend, I affirmed, because there was no such thing as being too paranoid in a ship this haunted.

  Vessa’s blue light finally overcame whatever resistance it was facing, and it crawled up both sides of the door-frame. It made slow progress and trailed blue sparks the whole time, until it finally encircled the door completely, traveling down the horizontal seam in the middle as well.

  The doors creaked audibly as they began to twist back into place, shaping into their correct form. Vessa continued pointing, and the doors began glowing with Source energy, actually thickening before my very eyes. Less than a minute later, the light faded, and the new doorway looked as solid as the one behind us.

  “There,” the ship-woman said, sagging against me in visible fatigue. “Go ahead and give it a strike, Nova.”

  “You sure?” she asked, looking at her primary body, and inexplicably disagreeing with it. “Won’t that hurt your something? Since this whole place is part of you too?”

  “Nova,” Vessa groaned. “Literally everything here, yourself included, but with the exceptions of Jasper and Nestor, are part of me. But I have an emotional buffer to help me process anything you experience, and I actually seared part of the link between myself and my ship-body that lets me feel the same pain it does. If it wasn’t for that, I’d have died of shock ages ago, back when I got wrecked at the very beginning. You should already know that.”

  “I should know a lot of things,” Nova snapped. “I’m just having trouble wrapping my head around all the—nevermind, it’s fine. I’ll attack your blasted door.”

  The blonde woman raised her war-baton, spent several long moments channeling as much possible power into it as she could, and fired a beam as thick as my head into the newly repaired door. A shield of blue energy surrounded the barrier, and Nova’s attack burned harmlessly against it, dissipating completely.

  “Good,” Vessa said with a satisfied nod. “Anything strong enough to break through that should already be repelled by my outer wards. And... sorry I snapped, Nova. I’m asking a lot from you and Jasper and you’re both doing fantastic.”

  “Thanks, Vessa,” Nova said uncomfortably, shaking her head. “I guess it’s confusing figuring out what each other knows and doesn’t know, and hard to know why the other doesn’t know it.”

  “That’s a very generous assessment,” the gray woman replied. “I appreciate it. I also still need your help with something else... but it also might help us fight less.”

  “That sounds perfect right now,” Nova admitted, walking over. “What can I do?”

  “I’m... still really tired,” Vessa admitted reluctantly. “I’m not sure I can bring this room online on my own. Well, I probably can, but I don’t think I should. It’s gonna wipe me out, after having to fix the doors first. It’s probably best if I let you help me.”

  “What would that take?” Nova said cautiously. “Or is that something I can remember, if I just think hard enough?”

  “No, and I’m sorry I made you feel like that,” Vessa sighed. “That’s exactly what I’d say in your situation, now that I think of it...”

  The irony of that statement was not lost on me, but Vessa continued speaking.

  “To bring this room back online, I’m going to have to raise a capsule from the floor and interface with it. It’s going to take a while, since it’s actually three rooms instead of one.”

  “Oh,” Nova said. “I guess I was wrong, then. I had pegged the side rooms for sleeping rooms.”

  “Those actually are,” Vessa replied. “You’re not wrong, it’s just that they also built in some functions here directly for other Soulships.”

  “Your people can visit each other’s ship-bodies?” I asked, surprised. I had understood Vessa’s main human form to be almost completely linked to her ship form.

  “That’s actually one of the only places our flesh-bodies can go, without Beacons,” Vessa confirmed with a nod. “It’s also another reason for us to travel in armadas. That way, if one ship-body is destroyed, the Soulship’s
flesh-body can be rescued by another and kept inside for life support, until we can either repair their original ship-body or outright build a new one... though the second is extremely difficult... in the end it didn’t matter, though,” she added sadly. “There was no time to save each other in the battle, and the ones that tried were just the next to die.”

  She lowered her head in memory, and the only thing I could think to do was to just hold her more tightly.

  From within my Soulscape, Elder Mara crooned in sadness.

  “Thanks, Jasper,” Vessa told me, patting my hand. “Okay, at any rate, I can raise two capsules. Nova can get in one, I can get in the other, and then we can work together on bringing the rooms back online. We’ll have to connect again to do it, and maybe that will help us iron out the rest of our differences... and help us figure out why we’re having them to begin with, since we’re just two parts of the same person.”

  “That last bit sounds great,” Nova said with a sigh of her own. “And I don’t fight with you on purpose. It just... comes out.”

  “Same here,” the dark-haired woman replied. “But we’re wasting time. Let me get the capsules ready. Jasper, you and Nestor can keep guard and make sure nothing goes wrong. Let me know if you hear the voices again.”

  “I’ll do that,” I said, “but would my disturbing this process be dangerous for you? Would I need to open the capsule myself, or just rap on it from the outside?”

  “Actually,” Vessa took a breath as she considered my question. “It’s going to be extremely difficult to get my attention. The capsule will lock when it closes, and I won’t hear anything outside of it.”

  “And I can’t do my text-speech with you unless you initiate it,” I replied, finally remembering about our special messaging power, and how it might be useful in the future, if Nova and I started encountering things we don’t understand. Probably should use it the next time we go deeper in the ship, I told myself, then thought of a solution to the current problem.

  “What if Nestor joins you in the capsule, and he tickles your face or something?” I asked, as my fluffy little friend squeaked again.

  “Oh, I love that idea!” Vessa exclaimed, holding out her hands. “Yes! Come here, you sweet fluffy thing!” Nestor leaped into her arms, and the gray woman let out a soft, happy cry as the furry little mouse nuzzled her chin. Then she shot a guilty look at Nova. “Is it okay if I get him this time, Nova?”

  Nova was actually smiling and touching her own chin.

  “Hm?” she asked, distracted. “Oh, sure. That’s fine. Maybe I can get him next time, though.”

  “Sure.” Vessa nodded. “Jasper can let him sleep with you when we all go to bed tonight.”

  Nestor squeaked again to voice compliance, to the immediate delight of both women.

  “That works perfect then,” Nova said with a smile. “And thank you, Vessa, that’s very generous.”

  “You’re welcome,” the ship-woman said as she smiled to her Beacon. “Do you have anything to add, Jasper?”

  “No, Vessa,” I said in a neutral tone, recognizing the test for what it was. “I think you both had a wonderful idea. I am happy to help.”

  “Good,” Vessa said firmly. “And it was actually your idea, Jasper, but it’s very sweet of you to share the credit. You didn’t have to do that.” (Yes I did). “Anyway, let me go ahead and raise the capsules up. Ugh. This is so much harder than just activating the entire room at once. But enough complaining.” She closed her eyes again, and two of the nearby tiles opened up. Two capsules similar to the ones in the sanctuary slowly rose from the floor.

  I strained to hear anything else other than the sounds of Vessa’s machinery, but I heard no signs of danger. No banging on the door. No eerie giggling. No ominous whispering. The beds rose without incident, and the tops of the capsules opened immediately.

  “Alright, Jasper,” the gray woman still in my arms announced. “Put me down in the one to the right. Nova, you get in the left one, unless you have some kind of preference.”

  My blonde friend shook her head, climbing into her capsule right as I lowered Vessa into the other one, careful not to bump her head on the metal tubing outside.

  “Thank you, Jas,” she said as she smiled at me. “You really take good care of me, even though I give you such a hard time for it. You be safe too, alright?”

  “That’s the plan,” I said with a nod, looking at my bonded Sourcebeast. “Right, Nestor?”

  The little mouse squeaked in agreement, waving a tiny paw at me. Vessa giggled.

  “Alright, we’re starting now. Nova, hit the green button on the right of your bed. After that, the capsules will close and I’ll be able to guide you through the rest of the process.”

  I had no idea how that would work, but I didn’t need to understand. I turned my body slightly to watch the door while keeping a hand pointed in their direction, continuing to cycle the atmosphere from my Soulscape over both their tubes. Blue light spread across the floor from both capsules until it finally connected in the middle.

  Beyond that, there were no other visuals. I drew my halfblade and waited, hoping I would have no terrifying visitors.

  Senior, I asked the dragon in my soul. Please help me keep watch for unwanted visitors.

  I will try, young rider, Elder Mara said to me. But I do not see how it could be possible. The vessel-saint has warded that door too well.

  I hope you will continue to not understand, I said.

  I had already received my fill of horrors for the day.

  I did not take my eyes from the distant door, or my hand from Vessa’s and Nova’s capsules. But other than a quiet hum, I heard nothing.

  I listened harder. But still nothing.

  One minute passed. With it came more nothing.

  Another minute passed. Another handful of nothing.

  A third minute, bringing twice as much nothing as the last two had brought.

  Child, the motherly dragon said from inside. I praise your vigilance, but every natural law says you are in no danger. Realize that, and take heart.

  My heart spat such feelings out of my body.

  Do not trick me, I growled, before I could stop myself. I will never be safe.

  My words to her surprised me, but I did not apologize for them. She had centuries, at the very least, to my mere decades of life. She should know better than to speak such things.

  Elder Mara reared away from my words, and I felt surprise from her.

  I see, she said sadly. I... I have misjudged your youth once again, young rider. I apologize.

  I had no idea how to respond to that, so I said nothing.

  I will change the subject then, she continued. Will it distract you if I keep talking?

  I hope so, I admitted, feeling suffocated by all the silence surrounding me. I feared that it would drown out my only warnings of danger, so I tried to ignore it. Please speak, Senior.

  Very well, the elder dragon continued. I have recognized why the vessel-saint fights so much with her Beacon. It is a delicate matter, one that you will need to help her with. But it is beyond your people’s oath to her own.

  What does that even mean? I asked, still watching the distant door, in case something had managed to scar it without sound.

  It goes beyond the Anchor Knight’s normal oath to protect and care for her kind. I would do it myself, but I am just a soul, and unlikely to gain back my body for decades.

  I have sworn no ancient oath, and as an orphan, I can claim no people as my own, I argued with her, my inner voice harsh as it considered the truths.

  Child... the dragon-woman said softly to me, but did not elaborate.

  Never mind, I said, shaking my head. But if there is another way I can help, please tell me. Regardless of my former lineage, I have no other goal than her well-being.

  I... the woman broke off, as if my words had wounded her somehow. Very well. I will help you, as you help her. And to help her, you need to know that her battles with her comp
onent bodies come from a battle within her own heart. She does not love herself, young rider.

  What? I snapped, turning my eyes away from the uselessly quiet door. Why? What do you even mean by that?

  I mean, Elder Mara answered patiently, that despite her hallowed status as one of the saints of the night sky, her heart is no different from that of a female human, or female dragon. Or perhaps that of any being, male or female. But now that I am this close, and this old, I can recognize the signs. She does not love herself. There is a small voice in her soul that asks if she is worthy of love, and she does not know the answer.

  That’s absurd! I snapped. She has been doing everything she could for everyone she met! She accepted my presence back when I was nothing but crippled and damned, and given me nothing but good! She did this all while being broken herself, and even back in the beginning, when she thought I had just abandoned her to save my own two-pence life, she still did what she could to ensure I could escape! Tell me, senior! Tell me who lied to her and said she was unworthy of love! Tell me who they are, and where they reside, and how hard I will need to train before I am strong enough to rend them to pieces! Tell me!

  I already did, young rider, the dragon said sadly, but with a note of pride in her voice. Her heart naturally asks such questions, like the hearts of many young ones, be they dragons or girls.

  It is a stupid question! I snapped, unsatisfied with her words. Of course she is worthy of love! I refuse to believe that she could not believe a truth so gloriously obvious! She is kind! She is brave! She is smart! She is good! She is heartrendingly beautiful, even in her current state, and I know of no fool who dare say otherwise, even down here! Even the wretched eaterlings did not dare to mock her for anything but her goodness, and they still died for it!

  You are spitting, young rider, Elder Mara’s soul said to my own. But I am proud of you for it. It is her failures, that make her doubt herself. Her failures, and the deaths she has seen, including the sacrifices made by those who died on her behalf. I have no doubt that both her crew and family died for her without an ounce of regret, but the wounds in her heart no doubt make her question if she was worthy of such devotion, and explain why she is so unwilling to share her burdens with others, lest they suffer the same fate.