Tearing The Shroud

by JM Bray

  They stared at the wooden rectangle standing like a miniature obelisk. It moved slightly, then again. It slowly started to rotate, moving faster — like a top released from a string, it spun to a humming blur. A silver light started to emanate from it, the same silver as the markings now unreadable on its blurred sides.

  Knife held the recorder to his mouth and rattled off a description — his panic-stricken voice nearly a buzz as well.

  The light grew, soon outshining the clock and lighting their faces. As it did, peace settled on the room; Vincent knew it well from recent events. Knife’s voice slowed and Julie’s grip relaxed.

  ‘Amazing...’ Flea whispered. They could see around the room, now dimly lit with the shimmer from the spinning wood. Abruptly the die stopped, still standing upright, and with it, the glow faded, not quickly, but as a mist evaporating while they watched.

  Vincent shook his head. ‘Now that’s worth a wow.’

  ‘I know, huh?’ Knife said. ‘Talk about — ’

  ‘Guys,’ Julie said. She pointed behind Vincent and they turned to where the blinds should have covered the window. In its place was an opening in the world. Standing in the opening was an elderly woman in robes.

  Coleman could see something in the opening. A glowing silvery light blossomed. He glanced quickly left and right at Jolie and Sari and knew they’d witnessed it, too. As the light grew, it outlined the Matriarch, and he could make out objects in the opening. There was a bed rack with people in it and two others on the floor. It bathed the scene in silver light and, had they not looked so ordinary, he would have thought he looked onto Beings of the Divine. The Matriarch raised her left hand slightly and the Acolytes gently brought their Song to a halt. The image before her held and something else became clear.

  They were all looking back. Those people could see them.

  Vincent saw a white walled room behind the woman, ablaze with candles. People sat, watching the elderly woman, two women, and a man. The man leaned his head to the right, getting a better view and started to stand, but the woman to his left laid a hand on his arm. The elderly woman smiled at Vincent, and nodded in greeting.

  The rest of the gang must have seen it too because Knife continued to describe the scene into the recorder. Vincent stood and faced the opening into the other reality. He felt no apprehension or fear as he looked at the matronly woman.

  ‘Hello.’ He nodded to her. After a brief moment, he saw the woman’s eyes look from one side to the other, though he had no idea why.

  The man’s mouth moved, but there was no sound. A moment passed and the Matriarch spoke, ‘Hello. My name is Gladys.’

  Coleman and Jolie looked at one another and then at Sari, the same thought reflected in their eyes, Gladys?

  The young man’s silvery head looked above the Matriarch and panned across slowly.

  They saw the woman speak, but there was no sound. A moment passed as Vincent looked above her head, reading the words that appeared. Knife mumbled into the recorder.

  Vincent turned to them. ‘Did you see that?’

  ‘What?’ Flea asked.

  Julie shook her head. ‘Just her lips moving and you looking up.’

  ‘The writing,’ Vincent replied. ‘When she spoke I couldn’t hear anything but then writing floated in the air above her head. Her name is Gladys.’ He turned back to the woman. ‘I...I’m...Vincent.’ The enormity of what was happening threatened to overwhelm him.

  She looked up as if reading something then said, ‘Hello Vincent. I believe that only you and I can see the words our speaking forms. I have a scribe making record of our words.’

  Vincent turned to his friends, his eyes wide. ‘Only Gladys and I can see the writing,’ he said. He looked back through the opening. ‘We’re recording it, too. I saw the word you sent earlier, since it said “tonight”, we tried to be ready.’ He gestured toward the room.

  Vincent saw her lips move as she read what he said to the people behind her.

  ‘When we communed last, it was I who wrote. But the word you received this eve was not sent by my hand.’ Vincent relayed her words to his group.

  ‘Then who?’ he asked.

  ‘I had a vision of you and your friends gathered in a classroom. When it was revealed to you, I saw it there as well.’

  She paused for him to read what she had spoken.

  ‘The Divine wanted us here together. Without that Sacred Power, this would not be.’ She gestured at the window between their worlds.

  Vincent motioned. ‘Julie thought this might be something like that.’

  Gladys nodded. ‘A woman can see things about the man she loves, even when he cannot.’

  Vincent heard a small gasp of surprise from Julie as he read it aloud, and smiled. ‘When you contacted me before, you told me to be ready for a choice. What choice?’

  ‘Vincent, there’s a person of great evil in our Realm. I believe they have found a way into yours. If they cross over, it will Tear an opening, and evil creatures beyond your imagining will pass into your world. This person, this evil must be stopped.’

  Fear crept up his spine like a cold wind. Some evil guy with a bunch of monsters. Why was Gladys contacting him? ‘Can’t you stop him there?’

  ‘It is my heart’s desire that we could. While his passing may go unnoticed here, in your lands it will be abundantly apparent.’

  ‘Why can’t we just kill the creatures if they arrive?’ he asked.

  ‘Without accepting our help, you won’t know they are there until it’s too late. They live in burrows and breed like vermin. These creatures have voracious appetites and prefer flesh. Many are twice your size with claws like scythes and the strength to rip a man to pieces.’

  She had to be wrong, he couldn’t do anything about things like that! Vincent threw up his hands. ‘Even with your help, how could I stop them?’

  ‘If you stop the Tearer...the evil one...you won’t have to.’

  He shook his head. ‘Are you sure you have the right person? I’m not much of a hero.’

  ‘It was not I who presented this opportunity. Your lifetime has been the preparation. Whatever skills or attributes you possess are Divinely directed and will carry you through whatever will come — but the choice is still yours to make.’

  ‘So I have a choice?’

  ‘Yes. Always.’

  His mind raced, trying to find a way around the responsibility he faced. He could just walk away, Gladys even said that. But that didn’t sit right, the thought made him feel dirty. It would be more than cowardice, it’d be a betrayal of a duty he’d been entrusted with. This was beyond him and his wants, beyond even his life. He looked into her kind eyes and the answer settled clearly and gently in his mind. ‘The Divine you mentioned brought me here.’ He paused. ‘How do I prepare for this? What am I choosing?’

  After reading, she pursed her lips and nodded, then turned and motioned to someone. The man behind her stood and stepped smoothly beside her. He was Vincent’s height and build, with a narrow waist, broad muscular shoulders, and ropey muscles that wound down his forearms. He wore leather pants and a light shirt with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. The end of a scar was visible on his chest at the opening of the shirt. It looked to be recent. A long knife, nearly a sword, hung at his hip; this man was a Warrior, used to a life of action. The man nodded at him, and he nodded back.

  ‘This is Coleman. He has chosen to Travel to your lands and join with you in this effort,’ Gladys said.

  ‘I have some skills at combat,’ Vincent told her. ‘But not like Coleman apparently does. His help would be welcome. What do I have to do to be ready for Coleman’s arrival?’

  She rubbed her chin, and paused. ‘In seven days’ time, at the same hour, he will come to be joined with you; when this occurs you must freely receive him as his Companion.’

  Something in the phrasing was odd, maybe it was just her manner of speech.

  ‘Be joined with me? How, exactly, will he get here?’ />
  She hesitated again then spoke to Coleman. He nodded, replied, and gestured at Vincent. ‘Coleman wishes me to speak plainly. Perhaps a direct answer is best.’ Coleman’s look met his and held it. Then he nodded once. ‘Coleman’s inner Essence will Travel to you while his body remains here.’

  ‘He’ll Spirit Travel then?’

  ‘Yes, he casts his spirit forth. Though I’m rather amazed you’re familiar with it.’

  ‘A lot of cultures and religions here tell about things like that,’ Vincent said.

  ‘It’s good that you understand.’ She nodded. ‘I have carefully studied texts that speak of the Joining and the powers it brings. I located both Coleman and you through visions brought to me by the Divine. In order to defeat the evil facing your lands, your combined efforts will be required; neither of you alone can stand against it.’

  The puzzle piece clicked into place in Vincent’s mind.

  Vincent said, ‘So. The choice I face is if I’ll let Coleman’s spirit possess part of me.’

  Julie jumped up, her rapt attention broken as Gladys paused and nodded her head.

  ‘What?’ Flea asked, his voice a squeak.

  Julie touched Vincent’s arm. He turned to her as she asked, ‘That’s the choice? To let this man’s spirit take you over? How can something like that even be?’ Her brow furrowed.

  ‘Julie, she only said part of that. Let me find out,’ he said gently, turning back to Gladys. ‘This Joining, will he control me? Is it permanent?’

  Gladys smiled and nodded at Julie. ‘I’m glad to see her love for you is strong. You’ll need it.’ She paused. ‘No. Only by completely subjugating the other’s will can one of you have total control. If that were to happen, you’ll be weak, or as weak as one man. Additionally, the will that is crushed...cannot recover. Madness is the result.’ She allowed him to read and take in what she said. ‘The Joining is done freely and with cooperation. Coleman will live within you, as an integral part of your being. He will know your thoughts and intensions, and you his. Only by working together will you have the power to perform at your fullest.’ Another pause. ‘Once you’ve completed the path before you, Coleman’s Essence will Travel back and reside in his body once more.’

  He asked, ‘And if we don’t... if we are...unsuccessful?’ His skin crawled just asking it.

  ‘I...’ She took a breath. ‘I don’t know. The texts are not clear on this point.’

  Vincent read the words to himself before saying them aloud, and considered changing the message. He looked at the words hanging in the air, and his heart compelled the truth. If he asked for their support, it meant giving them full knowledge of what lay ahead. Half-truths would dishonor their relationships. He breathed deeply and read.

  Julie gripped his hand tightly and laid her head against his upper arm. She didn’t speak; none of them did.

  Coleman watched the Companion take in the information. He was certain the Matriarch had found the correct person; he trusted the Divine in that matter. However, as Coleman stood there, watching this man in another land, with a woman who loved him by his side, he wondered how he would have reacted. He looked fit for the purpose, but even with his silvery glow, Coleman could see that Vincent was not accustomed to death, probably not even to extreme violence. Would he have the fortitude to accept these words if he was in Vincent’s place?

  As he saw Vincent nod in acceptance, he felt a hand slip into his. Jolie, like Vincent’s beloved, had come to his side. He looked and she smiled up at him as Sari stepped to her shoulder. Jolie’s expression spoke clearly, I’m here with you, come what may. Turning back to the opening, he saw the silvery woman tilt her head at Jolie in greeting, an acknowledgment of a shared purpose. The man with the mustache rose where he was, and the one in the bunk dropped from it to stand with his friend as well. These are good people.

  Vincent’s lips moved once more and he nodded in Coleman’s direction. The Matriarch read the words. ‘I...do not know that either, Vincent,’ she answered without reading them aloud.

  ‘What did he ask, Matriarch?’

  She took several breaths then turned to him. A tear ran down her cheek. ‘He wanted to know if there is a way for you to return safely, even if he perished.’

  In hearing those words, any hesitancy Coleman might have had, fled like darkness before the rising sun. His breath caught in his throat, and he spoke in a thick voice, ‘Would you speak to him for me?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Tell him: “Let’s not find out, shall we?”’

  She repeated his words, and they saw him laugh soundlessly. His lips moved again.

  The Matriarch chuckled. ‘He says, “Sounds like a plan to me.”’

  ‘I agree,’ Julie said.

  ‘Yeah, try to keep the whole Vincent-dying-thing to a minimum, will ya?’ Flea said.

  Vincent closed his eyes, fighting back the tears of gratitude that welled at hearing the support of his friends. ‘So, how does this thing work?’ he asked Gladys.

  She smiled at him, and her lips moved.

  He read the words and started to laugh. ‘Now, this woman I like!’

  ‘What?’ Julie asked. ‘What’d she say?’

  ‘She said, “I’ve never done it before. Make yourselves ready, and in seven days we’ll all find out.”’

  Chapter 17

  Buying Flowers

  Twenty-Four Years in the Past

  Callendel

  Justus sighed. It was the twelfth year and just two weeks remained before the event. He had one detail left outstanding and all would be ready. Fresh pellundium blossoms. How could all of this hinge on the pellundium blossom?

  The tropical plant would not grow locally. It had to be imported from a chain of islands nearly a cycle out to sea. At the best of times, it was an expensive product to obtain. These were definitely not the best of times. No, indeed.

  The flower grew on the southern slope of a mountain on the chain’s largest island. Each year, growers cultivated small fields and harvested during a two-sevenday window of time. They packed the temperamental plants in boxes, sealed those by magical means, and shipped them with all possible speed to select ports. This year, of all the years it could happen, the mountain exploded. Nearly the entire year’s harvest perished in a single day. They carefully recovered the surviving plants with the molten rock creeping its way to the sea just strides away. The meager collection was packaged and sent out.

  Two ships carried them westward, and two traveled to the southeast. One of the westbound vessels sailed to the port in Callendel. He had marked its arrival date, and his well-compensated representative was first in line at the port master’s office. The day of the ship’s arrival came and went. Another day passed, then another. A sevenday later, several small boats limped into the harbor, overloaded with refugees. A storm two days off the coast had struck the ship bearing his flowers. The ship and its cargo had been lost.

  When his agent returned with the tale, Justus was in his garden walking off his impatience. He took the news calmly, thanking the man for his service. ‘Might you be available for one or two more assignments?’ he asked.

  The sturdy young man nodded. ‘Yes, Sire, for the wages you pay, I’d gladly be available.’

  ‘Excellent, wait here a moment, if you will.’ Justus walked past the man and swung the walking cane like a club, hitting him in the back of the head. The man dropped like a sack of laundry, and Justus spent the next several minutes calmly beating him. Afterward, he extended his hand to Laurence, who filled it with a linen kerchief. Justus wiped the spattered blood from his face.

  ‘Laurence, retrieve a vial of my healing elixir and administer it.’ He poked at the bloody heap before him. One arm bent in several new and unique ways. ‘Use enough to take care of these broken bones and the interesting dent in his skull, but be sure to leave scars to remind him of my displeasure.’ He turned toward the house. ‘See that he is well compensated for our momentary exercise together, and retain him
for the next cycle. We will be traveling north to retrieve what is rightfully ours — he might come in handy.’

  Costanoan

  Costanoan sat on a large natural bay with steep hills rising around it. Streets snaked their way up, lined with tightly packed buildings that appeared to keep each other from tumbling down the hillside. The wharf was a conglomeration of warehouses, businesses, seedy bars, and restaurants with a diverse assortment of people. Finely dressed entrepreneurs walked past women selling themselves for pleasure who paced near alleys where destitute drunks slept.

  Justus strode to the desk of the Port Authority and smiled at the clerk. ‘Hello, good Sire, might I have a moment of your time?’

  The man glanced up. ‘Whadd’ya want?’

  ‘I seek information.’ Justus offered his hand. ‘I’m Justus.’

  The clerk shook his hand and palmed the gold piece in it. He peeked down casually and raised his eyebrows. ‘Sire Justus, how may I be of service?’ He inclined his head.

  ‘I’m interested in a recent importation. A client of mine anticipated the crop of pellundium flowers scheduled for Callendel. Unfortunately, the ship was lost and the cargo with it. Her daughter is to be married within the cycle; nothing else will suffice.’

  ‘I see.’ He nodded. ‘A difficult thing, that. A few small boxes arrived, but they sold before the ship made port. As you might imagine.’

  ‘Yes, of course, what with the tragedy in the islands.’ Justus applied a suitable look of sadness. ‘With the efficiency I see in your office, I’m sure you have record of who acquired them, though.’

  ‘Absolutely, Sire,’ he said. ‘If you’ll simply fill out this requisition form and pay the five silver fee, we can have that information...’ He grinned hungrily. ‘In ten days.’

  Justus restrained himself. Having the Beaten Man hold this puffed up lickspittle while he peeled the skin from his face would be counterproductive. Instead, he applied his acting skills, looking plaintively at the clerk.