The Third Soul Omnibus One

by Jonathan Moeller

  “You…can do that?” said Rachaelis. “I couldn’t manage it.”

  Thalia shrugged. “You have more raw power than anyone else in our generation. But you’ve never been all that good with the subtle work.”

  Rachaelis shook her head. “No.”

  “And I have more of an aptitude for mind spells than you,” said Thalia. “This will work.”

  “What if Maerwulf has wards against spells?” said Corthain. “It might break the thoughtmeld. The same thing happened at Anna Marinius’s tower.”

  “That kind of trap takes a lot of power,” said Thalia. “No matter how powerful Maerwulf is, I don’t see him taking the effort to ward his entire sanctum against every single variety of spell. Odds are, astraljumps won’t work inside the sanctum. But the thoughtmeld should. So long as you don’t walk into another trap.”

  Luthair grunted. “Why not just contact old Talvin? Let him know we’ve found Maerwulf, and let him send a dozen Magisters and a thousand Swords to hammer the murdering old bastard into paste.”

  “Because,” said Corthain. “We don’t know what kind of defenses Maerwulf has. It might be Paulus all over again. I won’t have men die because I was too lazy to scout ahead.” His green eyes shifted back to Rachaelis. “But that means you’ll be walking alone and unprepared into…anything, really. Whatever nasty tricks Maerwulf has up his sleeve.”

  “Not alone,” said Rachaelis. “With the thoughtmeld, you’ll be inside my head. You’ll see everything that I see.”

  “That might not be enough,” said Corthain. “We’ve expended all this effort to keep you alive, and then you walk into Maerwulf’s grasp?”

  “It’s more than my life that’s at risk here,” said Rachaelis. “If Maerwulf turns me into an Urmaaghsk, a lot of people will die. And even if he makes a mistake and kills me instead, he’ll keep on going, killing people and murdering innocents to fuel his spells. This is our best chance to stop him.”

  He did not like it. But it was the best plan, and she knew it. He knew it, too. She saw it in his expression. Like it or not, it was the best plan, and he was going to do it.

  Little wonder, she thought, he had been such an effective commander.

  “All right,” said Corthain. “I don’t like it, but I can’t think of anything better.”

  Rachaelis nodded.

  There was one more reason she wanted to enter Maerwulf’s sanctum.

  If Maerwulf was in communion with the same high demon that had possessed Paulus…then Maerwulf might know what had happened to Rachaelis’s father. He might know what had reduced Aramane Morulan to his strange state of half-life.

  And though Rachaelis barely dared to think it, he might know how to reverse it.

  And if Maerwulf did know, she would rip the secret from him.

  ###

  It was almost dusk.

  “Are you ready?” said Thalia.

  Rachaelis took a deep breath and nodded. She wore the worn leather and wool of a mercenary, with a short sword and a dagger in her belt. Though no one in his right mind would mistake her for a Jurgur man, let alone a Jurgur woman.

  Fortunately, she had other options.

  Anna Marininus’s amulet rested against her chest. Even through the leather and wool, she felt the chill from the black stone.

  “Good,” said Thalia. “Take his hands. That will make this easier.”

  Luthair snickered. Maria gave him a stern look.

  Rachaelis put her hands into Corthain’s. They were larger than hers, and stronger, hard with calluses from sword work.

  “Good,” said Thalia. “It’s difficult to maintain a thoughtmeld between an Adept and someone without magical talent. I’ll need to concentrate on maintaining the link. Don’t disturb me unless it’s really important.”

  “All right,” said Corthain.

  “I will watch over you,” said Maria.

  Thalia snorted. “Guarded by an Inquisitor. Father would have a fit.”

  “It’s almost dusk,” said Corthain. “Rachaelis won’t have much time to open the gate.”

  Thalia took a deep breath. “Then let’s get on with it.”

  She put one hand on Rachaelis’s forehead and the other on Corthain’s. Then she closed her eyes, muttering under her breath. Rachaelis felt Thalia gather power. Then the power surged.

  Something changed inside Rachaelis's head, and she became…aware of Corthain.

  She knew his emotional state just by thinking about it. There was…a constant low level of tension. Or readiness. Yes, that was it. Even now, he still scanned the room, always watchful for threats. There was considerable worry for her and Thalia, and misgivings over whether or not the plan would work. He also felt an entirely different kind of tension when he looked Rachaelis her, something that…

  Rachaelis blinked.

  He found her attractive, and he liked looking at her. Vaguely she wondered what he was feeling from her through the thoughtmeld, and she let go of his hands in sudden embarrassment. The bald fact was that she found him attractive, that she had liked kissing him, and there was no way he could miss that through the thoughtmeld.

  His mouth twitched into a half-smile.

  Luthair chortled. “My lady Morulan, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone turn quite that shade of red before.”

  “Yes,” said Thalia, voice tight with strain. Eyes still closed, she walked over to the table and sat down. “A deep thoughtmeld can be…disconcerting.”

  Can you hear me, thought Rachaelis.

  Yes, Corthain’s voice echoed inside her thoughts. I suppose if f I had known that you were going to be inside my head, I might have tidied up a bit.

  Usually thoughtmelds aren’t deep enough to perceive emotional states, said Rachaelis. But if I’m going to understand Jurguri, the thoughtmeld needs to be a bit more intimate.

  Again she felt embarrassment, and again Corthain’s mouth twitched in that half-smile.

  Intimate, said Corthain. Yes, that’s definitely the word for it.

  This is…this is, Rachaelis could not even think straight.This is…rather more intimate than I was expecting.

  You are beautiful, said Corthain. And brave and strong, as well. He smiled. There’s no hiding what I think through this thoughtmeld, so I may as well tell you.

  Rachaelis found herself smiling back.

  But this isn’t the time, said Corthain, and she felt his will harden. Later. After we have that murdering scoundrel Maerwulf’s head on a pike. Then we can talk more.

  You’re right, said Rachaelis. But if I die tonight I am glad I met you.

  “If you two keep staring at each other,” said Luthair, “you might as well just kiss and get it over with.” Maria gave him another disapproving look.

  “Luthair,” said Corthain, “make yourself useful. Say something in Jurguri.”

  Luthair shrugged, and started to talk in Jurguri. The language was harsh and guttural. At first it only sounded like gibberish to Rachaelis’s ears. Then she felt something through the thoughtmeld, and understanding flooded her mind. She didn’t know Jurguri, but Corthain did, and the meaning of the words came through the thoughtmeld.

  “Jurguri is an uncouth language,” Luthair was saying. “Though it is excellent for cursing. Nineteen different slang terms for fornication alone.”

  Say something in Jurguri, said Corthain.

  Rachaelis frowned, and felt Corthain’s mind through the thoughtmeld.

  “I suppose you would enjoy that,” she said, in Jurguri. It was the oddest experience. Her lips and tongue didn’t know how to form the words, but Corthain did, and the knowledge traveled to her through the thoughtmeld.

  Luthair blinked in surprise.

  “Interesting, my lord,” said Luthair. “She even has your accent.”

  “Good,” said Thalia, eyes darting back and forth behind closed lids. “Corthain. Close your eyes. Concentrate. Should be able to see through her eyes.”

  Corthain nodded and complied. His presence i
nside her head intensified. It was almost as if he stood behind her, looking over her shoulder. Then he staggered and grabbed at the wall for support.

  What, said Rachaelis.

  That takes some getting used to, said Corthain.

  “Sit down,” said Thalia. “You’ll get dizzy, otherwise.”

  Corthain nodded, sat down, and closed his eyes.

  “Go,” he said. “I’ll let the others know what you see and hear.”

  “Good luck, my lady,” said Luthair.

  “May the Divine go with you,” said Maria.

  Good luck.

  All at once Rachaelis felt so bold. Was it her own boldness, she wondered? Or was it coming from Corthain via the thoughtmeld? Or the fact that she was about to risk her life?

  It didn’t matter.

  She stooped and gave Corthain a quick kiss on the lips, and his eyes popped open in surprise.

  “For luck,” she said, and astraljumped.

  ###

  She reappeared in the street outside Paulus’s ruined tower.

  Some of Corthain’s memories filtered into her mind. Solthain Kalarien, demanding that Paulus come down and surrender himself. The ghouls pouring from the tower. Blood and death and astralfire. And a storm of azure astralfire descending upon the tower as the Magisters unleashed their combined wrath. Lying on the street, waiting to die…

  Stray memories, said Corthain. I didn’t mean for you to see that.

  It’s all right, said Rachaelis.

  She took a deep breath and cast a spell, shaping an illusionary image around herself. During the Testing she had disguised herself as Magister Mauriana. Now she disguised herself as Anna Marinius, giving her illusionary image the same haughty expression, the same pale blonde hair, the same too-tight gown. With any luck, Maerwulf hadn’t yet realized that Anna Marinius was dead.

  And if he had, then Rachaelis was in trouble.

  Another deep breath, and she walked across the grounds and up the cracked stairs. The amulet grew colder against her chest as she drew nearer, colder and colder, and began to shimmer with a hellish light.

  Rachaelis lifted the amulet up.

  A gateway of blood-colored light appeared in the archway, with hints of shadows and shapes visible beyond.

  The way to Maerwulf’s sanctum.

  Rachaelis whispered a quick prayer and stepped into the bloody light.

  Chapter 2 - Blood Sanctum

  It felt like an astraljump.

  There was a moment of wrenching dislocation. Blood-colored light filled her vision. And then the light vanished, and Rachaelis found herself…

  Elsewhere.

  She stood on a path winding its through a dark and desolate plain. Obsidian boulders jutted from the plain, jagged and shiny, and black grasses waved in a cold, carrion-scented wind. The sky writhed with black clouds, moving faster than the wind. From time to time a flash of crimson lightning jumped from cloud to cloud. Far in the distance she saw a cluster of stony hills.

  The only sounds were the mournful wail of the wind rustling through the black grasses.

  Rachaelis? Rachaelis!

  I’m here, said Rachaelis. The thoughtmeld still worked here, evidently. I’m in Maerwulf’s sanctum. It’s…

  Maerwulf had created this place? But it wasn’t a real place, was it? It was only a construction, a thing created in the astral realm with blood spells.

  It's bigger than I expected. There's a path, said Rachaelis. I’m going to follow it.

  Careful, said Corthain.

  I’m using a stolen amulet to access the warded sanctum of a centuries-old Jurgur blood shaman in communion with a high demon, said Rachaelis. We’re long past careful here.

  She felt his amusement through the thoughtmeld. True. Still, be careful.

  The path crossed back and forth between the obsidian boulders. Rachaelis saw that some of the boulders had been carved into sculptures. All of them were disturbing, and a few were out-and-out grotesque. One sculpture showed a pyramid of human heads, eyes bulging, tongues lolling, in such detail that for a moment Rachaelis thought they were real heads that had been painted black. Another statue showed a naked woman impaled upon a stake, the jagged tip jutting from her yawning mouth. Others showed women ravaged by Jurgur warriors, or by wild beasts. Some of them showed acts Rachaelis had never heard of before.

  Apparently, Corthain had not been exaggerating when he had described Maerwulf’s brutality.

  If anything, he had understated it.

  Movement caught her eye, and Rachaelis stopped.

  Dead men and women stood on the path ahead, mostly Jurgurs. Their glassy eyes burned with hellish light, as if lit from within by dying coals. Ghouls, then. One of the women was still alive. She looked no more than seventeen or eighteen, the ritual scars fresh upon her cheeks. Her eyes also burned with the same hellish light, only brighter.

  An Urthaag. If a lesser demon possessed the woman, it probably couldn’t see past Rachaelis’s illusion. But if it was a greater demon…

  The Urthaag paced towards Rachaelis. “Who are you,” she whispered, her voice carrying the eerie double echo of possession, “that enters the Master’s domain?”

  Rachaelis lifted the amulet upon its chain. “I am the Lady Anna Marinius, disciple of the Master.”

  The Urthaag said nothing.

  Threaten her, said Corthain. She expects Lady Anna to be haughty.

  “Stand aside from my path, foolish child!” said Rachaelis. “I am a favored disciple of the Master! Stand aside, or the ragged spirit wearing your flesh will have to find itself a new house.”

  The Urthaag’s lip peeled back from her teeth, and for a moment Rachaelis though she had pushed the possessed woman too far. White astralfire could deal with both the Urthaag and the ghouls, but Rachaelis suspected Maerwulf could sense any spell of the High Art cast within his sanctum.

  That would be bad.

  “We had heard that you were slain,” said the Urthaag. “The Master summoned you, and you did not come. He was…wroth.”

  “I had rather a difficult time making my way here,” said Rachaelis. That, at least, was no lie. “The Adepts attacked my tower, and I barely escaped with my life. And only now was it safe enough to come here. The Master was wroth, you say? Think how furious he would have been if I had brought the damned Conclave down upon his head. Now, clear my path, slave, or I shall show you what the Master has taught me!”

  The Urthaag stared at her for a moment, then stepped to the side. “You are late. The gathering has already begun, and the Master’s disciples and his followers are receiving his instructions. We suggest that you hurry.”

  Rachaelis swept past the Urthaag without another look. The ghouls stank, and her shoulders itched, but she did her best not to look back. That would have been a sign of weakness, and she doubted the Urthaag would respond well to it.

  As soon as you’re out of sight, turn invisible, said Corthain.

  Rachaelis at last glanced over her shoulder. The Urthaag and her pet ghouls were watching the path once more.Why?

  Maerwulf obviously left instructions about Anna Marinius,said Corthain. If he sees you, he’ll probably try to question you. At the very least he’ll be curious about what happened. No matter how good your illusion is, I don’t think you’ll be able to pass as a blood sorceress for very long.

  But I can’t turn invisible, said Rachaelis. I’ll have to drop my spell and recast it. I don’t know what Maerwulf’s capabilities are here, but if I cast a spell within his sanctum, I’m almost certain that he will sense it.

  There was a pause. Thalia says you can adjust your current illusion spell, said Corthain. To someone less conspicuous than Lady Anna. She says that’s subtle enough that Maerwulf shouldn’t notice.

  Good idea, said Rachaelis, looking around. There was no sign of the Urthaag, or anyone else. She concentrated, looking at herself, and her body shimmered. Lady Anna vanished, and in her place appeared a Jurgur slave, lean and red-haired, with scarred ch
eeks and a gaunt, hallow face. Or so Rachaelis assumed. She wished she had a mirror so she could check.

  Who are you now?

  A Jurgur slave, said Rachaelis, looking at her arms and legs. Her illusion wore a ragged orange tunic, leaving her forearms and shins bare. They looked thin and sinewy. No one in particular. A composite from the Jurgur slaves I remember seeing.

  Good, said Corthain. Maerwulf shouldn’t take a closer look at you.

  She kept walking, past more obsidian boulders and more of Maerwulf’s depraved statues. The ring of stony hills grew closer, and within their center, Rachaelis saw flickering firelight and dancing shadows. A bonfire, perhaps? There was also the murmur of dozens of people speaking in low voices.

  This meeting of Maerwulf’s must be there, said Rachaelis.

  Don’t try to sneak in, said Corthain. Just walk in. Look like you belong there. It sounds like hundreds of people are there. Most of them are probably Jurgur slaves. One more won’t draw any extra notice.

  Rachaelis nodded and kept walking.

  Within the ring of hills lay a massive hollow, looking almost like an amphitheater. A huge bonfire raged in the center of the hollow. Hundreds of Jurgurs stood around the fire, speaking in low voices to each other. On the opposite side of the fire, on a raised swell, massive boulders had been piled to create an altar.

  An altar absolutely caked in dried blood.

  She walked to the edge of the crowd and stopped. A few of the Jurgurs looked at her, but then looked away again. Maerwulf had many followers among the Jurgur slaves, and one more did not draw any notice. She took the opportunity to look over the gathered Jurgurs. Most were slaves, and thrall caste. But there were quite a lot of warriors in leather and mail, scythe-bladed swords on their hips. And Urthaags, and ghouls.

  And a few more Araspani noblemen and women. But no Adepts, at least.

  Perhaps two dozen of the crowd bore amulets similar to Lady Anna’s. Maerwulf’s disciples, then. Could they all cast blood spells? Rachaelis hoped not. Facing one blood shaman, even an apprentice, had not been a pleasant experience. Facing a score of them together…