“No, stay behind me.” Rat Woman stepped between Ran and the crowd holding a short knife and a pink sphere. The latter item she addressed. “We’ve got a problem. If you can manifest, I suggest you do it now.”
She threw the ball into the air and it swelled up, shattering when it reached man-height. Insects flew, crawled and swung to the pale figure, merging as they struck it. Inside-out, a green-skinned body formed and Ran stared at the process in fascination. He pointed.
“Is that—”
“Insect Man? Yes, stay behind me. I don’t like the look of that crowd.” Rat Woman pulled Ran behind her again.
This time, he was too fascinated to argue. A pink flash consumed Insect Man and when it faded, the front rank of those entranced people had reached him.
In the weeks since he’d seen Insect Man last, the construct had become more adept at shaping a human form. A segmented iridescent carapace armored him and absorbed the blows the crowd dealt him. Unlike Rat Woman, he didn’t bother with clothes.
Ran felt around in his pockets but found no more ammo. He pulled out the Queen Tree’s seeds and their filaments tickled his fingers. They were bigger than his usual ammo of small metal spheres, but they’d once belonged to her, and some of her power lingered in them. Maybe she can help.
Loading his slingshot with a seed, he aimed and fired then repeated the process with the second seed. One struck a man and the other a gray-haired woman. Both blinked hard for a moment before succumbing to the Adversary’s will again. Ran backpedaled and crashed into his father.
“Papa? We need your light and magic.” Ran shook his father’s shoulder, but there was still no response.
Papa has lots of pockets. He’s always squirreling away interesting things. And he has more seeds. Ran dug through them and withdrew a half-dozen glowing rocks. Papa’s pockets were loaded with still-lit lumir. Somehow the black mist had missed them earlier. Shrugging, Ran fitted one to his slingshot then paused, remembering what J.C. had said.
“A mind divided cannot stand against the Adversary. Neither can a heart.”
And that’s what they were—divided against themselves. Shadows wrestled with flames inside each man and woman. Were those flames the hearts or the minds of the blank-eyed people reaching for him? Ran hefted the lumir stone then shoved it back into Papa’s pocket for safekeeping. Papa hates darkness, and so do I.
But those people didn’t choose to darken. Before Rat Woman could dart into the knot of blank-eyed people again, he grabbed the hem of her tunic. Her knife flashed, as the wall of bodies closed in on them.
“Don’t hurt them. They don’t know what they’re doing. They’re under a spell. A bad man called the Adversary made it, and he’s after Papa now. We have to get Papa away from here.”
Rat Woman jerked her tunic out of his hands. “If we do, he’ll wake up?”
Ran shrugged, but it sounded like a better idea than staying here. So, he grabbed Bear. “I want to go now. Bear, please jump us away.”
Rat Woman and Insect Man exchanged glances and hopefully plans since Bear didn't wake up and save them this time. A shadow shoved between them, knocking the two constructs to the ground. It headed straight for Papa, and he was reaching toward it.
“No, Papa!” Ran pushed his arm, but it wouldn’t budge. Papa was too strong.
“What is that thing?” Rat Woman pointed at a black wave rolling over the entranced crowd. Wizened faces played peek-a-boo with grinning skulls.
“Ghosts and ghouls and sallow fools—oh, how they cool. Oh, how they cool 'neath the land where nulls rule!”
“It’s the magic-stealing mist. It’s back, but I know how to stop it.” Ran fished around under his father’s tunic.
“How?”
“With a crystal—it helped before. Where is it?” Ran felt for the leather thong the thing hung on.
How can it not be there? Papa never takes it off. But his pawing fingers found just Papa under his tunic. Ran peered down Papa’s collar to look for its glow, but all was shadow under there.
“Where’d it go?”
“Where’d what go? What’s happening?” Auntie Sovvan held out her fading hands right before she dematerialized.
“Auntie Sovvan?” Ran patted the space she’d just occupied. She was gone, but J.C. was still here. Maybe he could help. Ran tugged his pant leg. “J.C.?”
He stood there silent as the walls holding up the ceiling, and his cross flickered in and out of view.
“J.C.? Are you all right?”
“Did you find it?”
Rat Woman pushed three men back, and they stumbled into the people behind them. Insect Man swept the legs out from under several more people, knocking them down, but the slack-jawed crowd kept coming no matter what they did.
The black wave hit Rat Woman and Insect Man at the same time and both collapsed. They shook as the spells holding them together broke, dissembling their bodies. Rats and bugs of all types fled the area.
“No! Rat Woman! Insect Man!” Ran huddled against Papa’s chest, squeezing Bear and his cheek touched a hard object. There you are! Ran reached in as the black mist boiled around him, draining him. He pulled out Papa’s pendant. It shone like a captured star, and its light shoved the wraiths and that magic-stealing mist back. But that black stuff surrounded J.C., and the grinning wraiths laid their power-stealing hands on him.
“J.C.! Please wake up. You must come into the light, or Papa’s pendant can’t protect you.”
But not even a flicker of awareness passed over J.C.s slack features. Then those bony hands covered his face and J.C. was buried under a pile of wraiths.
Bear, help us, please!
The ground sucked at Shayari’s feet. Lifting her foot and taking that next step became more and more difficult. It’s just the land. It’s been stripped of the magic it needs, so it’s taking some from you. She brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and trudged on until the earth welled up, trapping her foot. She pulled on her leg, but it was stuck.
“Let go of me.”
“No,” a woman’s face formed in the earth. It was larger than Shayari was tall and it was angry. “Go back. The mountain and all your hopes and dreams are in grave peril. Go back before it’s too late,” said Gaia, speaking through the land.
“What are you talking about? The greater danger is the black lumir crystal. It’s in the hands of those loons, the Seekers.”
“Look.”
Rocks hurled toward her and piled up into an outstretched arm pointing southwest to a dark lump.
Shayari sighed and turned her gift of far-sight on the mountain. Aralore and her flunkies were on a parallel course for it. Between the two circles of menhirs, a shield flickered, but it wasn’t as strong as before, and its golem-keeper was gone. Who set it free? Beyond it, a rainbow moiré pattern blocked her sight.
“Who activated the standing stones?”
Was it Sarn? They would react to him since he was of Litherian blood, but why would he need to invoke them? All the danger was out here. What in God’s name was happening back there?
What could have triggered those stones? Not the Adversary. He was locked out. Even with a mortal doing his bidding, there was only so much mischief he could get into, and none of that was as destructive as a black lumir crystal.
Shayari felt suddenly cold despite the sun baking the trees moaning on the ground. Am I chasing the wrong villain?
She just didn’t know and the not knowing worried her. Kneeling by a fallen tree, she laid her hands on its graying bark and sought its connection to the rest of the forest and its Queen. She grasped hold of it before it could fade and pulled. She shifted back to the Queen of All Trees’ ruined glade.
“Something’s happened at Mount Eredren.”
“I’ll check. I have eyes inside the mountain.” The Queen of All Trees stilled, but something about her wasn’t right. Her aura was dimmer, and her bark had lost most of its shine. In fact, her crown looked shredded. Many branches had no leaves at all
and were those cracks in her bark?
Shayari laid her hand over one and traced a healing rune. The Queen of All Trees shifted her roots.
“I’m all right.”
“For how long? Why didn’t you tell me it was hurting you?”
“Would knowing have changed anything?”
“No, you’re right. Tell me how you have eyes inside the mountain. That shield is programmed to keep you out.”
“I made friends with a local, but she’s not seeing anything. The problem must be below ground where the Indentured live.”
“A place you can’t go without help.”
“But you can. You have some Litherian blood in you.”
Shayari nodded, but the mountain wasn’t where she wanted to go. “What happened to the golem? He’s gone.”
“He is? When did that happen?”
“Take a good look at the menhirs. He’s abandoned his post.”
“Sarn,” they both said in unison.
“His son is calling me.” Bear lumbered into view and spread his paws. “I’d go, but without magic, I’m not much use except for moral support. I think they need more concrete help than that.”
“Don’t look at me.” Shayari backed away waving her hands. “I have a date with a Seeker and a black, magic-stealing rock if I could just get close to them.”
But Gaia, that meddlesome spirit, had other plans. The ground parted under Shayari’s feet and sucked her under before she could draw breath to scream.
“You must go back to the mountain,” Gaia said, but her voice faded as Shayari shot through the ground.
I hope you don’t mind. I caught a ride on you, Bear said mind-to-mind. I miss the little rascal.
He meant Sarn’s son, of course. She’d only had a brief glimpse of the child and his father in the Ægeldar earlier today. Before Bear broke their connection, he sent her a packet of images, so she could get to know her distant descendants a little better.
Thank you, she sent back as she turned her attention to what she’d find once she reached Mount Eredren. At least crossing the menhirs would not be a problem given her Litherian blood, but she had no idea what she would face when she arrived. What could possibly have spooked Gaia enough to take interest in this corner of the world? It must be something bad indeed.
Tempting Repentance
J.C. halted. Sins fouled the air and stained the walls. The further he went, the heavier his cross became. How could the Adversary call so many to him? Yes, sin was the easier road, but there were still righteous men and women—Sarn was one, though even he wasn’t sinless. But the good he did should have overpowered the Adversary’s lure.
Something was fueling the Adversary. What could strengthen his call so even good people couldn’t resist him? Sorry Ran, but a many-armed monster couldn’t do it. Something else happened. J.C. pushed through choking darkness, and it resisted, sapping his strength.
A light flared in the dark as a soul dared to defy the Adversary’s call. The hooded figure, slight enough to be a woman, darted into the mesmerized crowd flowing into the mouth of a half-collapsed tunnel. Piles of rubble lay on either side of a gaping hole wide enough to fit a dragon. A cross blazed above his or her head as she swung a censer, wafting incense at the throng while shouting prayers. Only a few woke from their trance, but in the press, they were forced into the cavern with the rest.
Still, the hooded figure kept trying to save them, nor was she alone. Others tried to turn the tide, some by main force, others by reciting religious texts, but the Adversary’s call trumped all their efforts, and it was maddening. How could the Adversary have become so powerful in so short a time?
J.C. scoured the blank minds of the crowd for answers, but all he found was the Adversary’s call rattling around their minds. What’s giving him such an edge?
The throng flowed to the edge of a wide cliff in ranks of thirteen and stepped into darkness. No! J.C. extended his hand to save them, but they were caught between two spells.
Instead of falling, those thirteen men and women struck a thin layer of white fire and it eviscerated them. J.C. fell to his knees. Nails punched through his hands and feet, spilling his most precious blood, and a crown of thorns bit into his brow.
What could be so terrible the Queen of All Trees left such a deadly guardian behind?
Thirteen more people approached the edge.
“Come, children of light, repentance is in sight.”
J.C. extended his hand and his power to stop them and slammed into the covenant. Without hesitation, those enthralled innocents jumped, and the shield vaporized them, sending their souls flying into—oh, my God, no. The Adversary created a soul trap.
And those souls winged into its black web. Woven from demonic spiders' silk on a hoop made from a suicide trees' wood, the perverted dreamcatcher, too, was bound to a lie.
I must break it down. But when he reached for that fell weaving, its threads passed through his fingers. No. J.C. cast about for an answer as rank upon rank of vacant-eyed people shuffled through his spirit toward their doom.
Why can’t I touch it? He kept trying until his hand touched an invisible thread anchored to someone in the crowd.
The Adversary had help making this atrocity—mortal help. J.C. pushed to a stand. I need a mortal to break it. Not just any mortal, he needed a curse breaker.
“J.C.!” Ran shouted and his voice came from a long way off followed by a gentle tug.
It couldn’t be, but it was, and in a flash of insight he understood why the Queen of All Trees was so bent on protecting the potential curse breaker and his son. They were a light in the dark.
But there—two men moved through the throng unaffected by the Adversary’s call. Their souls were in turmoil, crying out for help, and one of them had a soulcatcher.
Ran tugged on his heart again. Sorry lad, I need another minute more to stop the killing. Just hang on, I’ll be right there.
Keeping his head down, Jersten backed away still gripping the strange stone in his pocket. I must get out of here and find Sarn. He’ll know what this thing is and why it’s protecting me. That dark voice buzzed in the back of his mind, but it was a soft murmur easily ignored. I’m not throwing my life away at the whim of some mage.
Not when he knew a mage—granted Sarn wasn’t all that powerful, but perhaps he could explain all this or craft some method of protecting others from it. Others, the word repeated in Jersten’s mind raising an unspeakable fear—were his loved ones caught in this vile nightmare? Were they throwing themselves at the thin sparkling line separating them from a deadly fall?
Jersten scanned the faces of the people pushing past him seeking his wife and slammed into Dirk.
“Why aren’t you a mindless slave like them?” Dirk seized Jersten by his upper arms and shook him.
He brought both hands up to push the brute away, but the instant he let go of the rock in his pocket, the summons crashed down, crushing his will.
“I must go to him. He’s calling me.”
“First you must tell me how you thwarted his will.” Dirk shook the weasel and kept shaking until he realized he wouldn’t get an answer. Jersten’s legs pistoned in a futile air march until Dirk hurled him at the nearest wall. Jersten knocked two blank-eyed marchers down and the three ended up in a tangle of limbs.
Before they could detangle themselves, Dirk knelt on Jersten’s chest and searched his pockets. He withdrew a white and black stone. On contact, the Adversary’s foul voice vanished from his mind.
Another voice took its place and with it came a divine white glow that divided into a cross.
“Cast the stone into the fire. It will break the shield, so you can save your friends and release the crowd. No one else needs to die here. Cast the rock into the pit.”
Dirk regarded the rock in his hands. He’d sold it for a pittance of its true worth, though at the time, he hadn’t known that. The impure rock fit in the palm of his hand. “It’s so small a thing, yet we suffered so much fea
r and doubt over it.”
“Cast it into the pit.”
Dirk nodded, but instead of doing as the voice bid, he turned into the crowd and let it propel him toward the edge. There was no end to the bodies cramming into this cavern all for a shot at a deadly swan dive into the Adversary’s fiery embrace. And that foul beast floated over the chasm unharmed by the white fire jetting up from the shield. The ashes of the dead were a black plume rising in the wind whipping the Adversary’s black robes. And their pale, silently screaming ghosts swirled toward a dark web the Adversary wove.
When Dirk reached the edge, he hefted the rock and threw. It sailed out into the middle of the pit then dropped, striking the shield, and it darkened on contact. All light dove into that crystal as it spun.
“What have you done?” the Adversary bellowed.
Darkness shot out of the pit and slammed Dirk to the ground. He grappled with the leathery thing squeezing his chest but couldn’t get any purchase on it. He screamed, and darkness poured down his throat. Deeper it went, ripping the light out of him as the tentacle dragged him toward the pit.
What’s happening?
“You’re dying. Did you think you could release the Ægeldar and live?” The tentacle shook Dirk.
He pounded on it. “You can’t have my soul, Beast.”
“I don’t want your soul, just your body.”
“What for?”
But the beast didn’t answer. It tossed Dirk’s body into the pit, and he fell past more tentacles shooting up toward the Adversary and his soul trap.
“With magic, why identify? Be normalcy personified. Come, sinner, thy time is nigh,” said the black shape wavering between a hooded wraith and a birdlike creature with cloven hooves. It couldn’t maintain its shape.
The sight gave Sarn pause. So, did J.C.’s absence. Why did you abandon me? Is it because I hesitated?
“Ran?”
“Come, sinner, to your dark Father fly. At my side, thy time is nigh,” said the black shape spreading its bell-sleeved arms like a long-lost lover, but its words were just a catchy rhyme now. They no longer had any power over Sarn.
Curse Breaker: Books 1-4 Page 103
